Ruthless Spring - Page 118

There’re more cars than usual in the driveway. Giovanni, Enzo, Maximo, and Lucia move to the one in front, Enzo taking the driver’s seat. “This way,” Vito says to me softly.

He leads me in the direction of the car behind Giovanni’s and I think he’s going to get into the driver’s seat, but instead he opens the back door, gesturing for me to get in. I climb in and my gaze moves to an unfamiliar man in the driver’s seat. I think he’s one of the men I saw in Giovanni’s office this morning, but I’m unsure. His hair is dark and I can’t get a read on any of his other facial features because he doesn’t bother to turn around.

Vito slides into the free space next to me.

Silence falls over the car.

Things have been tenser with Vito since the night he made it clear who he is, but a part of me wishes he could go back to the old him in this moment. It’d be a reprieve from all the drama going on.

I know Givoanni’s plan has my protection as a priority.

He doesn’t want me staying at the compound in case the Ramos are a step ahead of us again and try to abduct me or kill me while everyone else is out of the compound. And apparently, he doesn’t trust his men very much, because instead of using one of the Costa safe houses, we’ll be using one of Lorenz’s just in case anyone has flipped and given up our safe houses.

“It’ll be okay,” Vito says to me lowly as the car pulls out of the compound. He places his hand on my knee, which I hadn’t even realized I’d been bouncing up and down.

“Thanks,” I mutter.

The car pulls out of the compound and I keep my gaze on Giovanni’s car as we make our way into the city. We’re supposed to be following them until we get to White Street, which is about thirty minutes out from the compound. I hadn’t recognized the address Giovanni said Luis Ramos was hiding at. All I know is that it’s just inside of the city limits.

Our drive goes smooth for about fifteen minutes and I’m just starting to relax when red and blue lights flash behind us.

“Fuck,” Vito mutters, turning to look behind us. I do the same, my lips parting as I take in the two cop cars behind us. The cars zips around us, getting between us and Giovanni’s car, apparently their car being the target.

“Shit,” Vito says before muttering something in Italian.

Giovanni’s car keeps going and the cops continue to follow. “They’re going to have to stop,” Vito says after a moment. “Somebody flipped on us.”

“Probably Cressida,” I tell him before realizing what I’m doing. His gaze snaps to mine and a crease forms between his brows. “Giovanni choked her out in broad daylight and threatened to kill her,” I remind him.

He shakes his head, muttering a curse as he sighs. “You’re probably right,” he says as we watch Giovanni’s car finally pull over to the side. The cop cars stop behind him, blocking us from continuing forward.

“Back up and turn down Rice Lane,” Vito tells the driver, pointing as he gives him directions.

The driver obeys as Vito pulls his phone out. He puts it on speaker, the line ringing loudly.

“Yes?” I’m surprised when it’s Maximo who answers the phone. But when I her Giovanni yelling in the background, I realize why.

“What the fuck is going on?” Vito barks out. “Turn here and keep on to the safe house,” he bites out at the driver.

“I know as much as you, Bianchi,” Maximo says, sounding bored. “But if my brother doesn’t calm his temper soon, I’m sure they’ll be slapping cuffs on him.”

“Shit,” Vito mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We’re going to keep on to our location. Jesus, I hate that I even have to say this but you need to calm, Giovanni down.”

Maximo laughs, “Words I never thought I’d hear, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Maximo-,” Whatever Vito is about to say dies on his lips. His head tilts to the side as he leans forward, looking in the rearview mirror. “Fuck,” he swears, turning around and looking out the back window.

“Vito?” Maximo says and I think this is the first time I’ve heard him call the other man by his first name.

“We’re being followed,” Vito says.

I turn around and my gaze lands on three black cars with tinted windows following us. My heart thumps against my chest.

“How many?” Maximo asks.

“Three,” Vito says. “Mash the gas, Riccardo,” he orders and the car speeds up. So do the ones following us.

“Fuck,” Maximo says before his voice goes a little distant, as if he’s taken the phone away from his face. He says something in Italian and I hear Giovanni respond to him.

“Where are you?” Maximo asks.

“We’re on Webster-” Vito’s head snaps to the side and his eyes widen. I only see another car coming right at us from the side before Vito’s arm is wrapping around my neck and pulling me into his side as his hand cradles my head.

My body goes slamming forward as I hear Maximo’s voice shouting in the background. I’m aware of pain and a loud bang but nothing else as glass rains down around us.

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