Twins for the Mafia Heir (The Warwicks #3)

43. Achilles

Chapter 43

Achilles

E mma has been gone for too long.

Once again, Wesley Hall is going to be the witness to another massacre. But instead of being one of the men sowing death in every room and hall, I’m not armed, and I’m trapped in a cell below the house.

Whoever fires the most shots will reach me first, and when they do, I’ll be a fish in a barrel. And Emma will be-

I’m over the initial shock of seeing her and already regretting that I reacted with frustration instead of joy. She’s not a reckless person. If she was caught, it wasn’t because she was being careless. She certainly didn’t walk through the front doors of the place like I did. I should’ve asked her if she was hurt, when she got back to England, or what brought her back. She tried to find me at the safe house, but why?

I grip the bars of my cell, but what the hell am I going to do, yank them out of the ground?! I have nothing on me to pick the lock, no weapon to shoot it open with, and I’m too big to just melt through the door like Emma did. I want to scream my frustration, but I shouldn’t be making enough noise to grab the attention of someone upstairs. As much as it kills me, there’s nothing I can do until someone comes down here to kill me or set me free-

Silent as a shadow, Emma’s small figure slips through the heavy wooden door at the end of the hall. I can hardly believe I’m seeing her, whole and alive, even when she makes it to the front of my cell and starts undoing the wires at the end of the bracelet in her hands. There are two handguns stuffed into her jeans that she must have also pilfered from my room. Before I can even think of words of praise or relief or apology, she has the lock on my door clicking open, and I don’t have to use words anymore.

My door swings open, and I crush Emma’s body against mine and my mouth into hers.

She tastes just as sweet as I remember, but not as soft. She’s tense against me, her breath held.

I pull back, worried I’ve hurt her, but she only stares up at me with shock and confusion.

And why wouldn’t she, when I’ve been nothing but angry and cruel?

“I’m so sorry, Emma,” I tell her, cradling her face in my hands as tenderly as I can, even though I want nothing more than to hold her as tight as I’m able. “I’ve been an absolute bastard to you. You were within every right to keep your identity from me, and I didn’t listen when you tried to explain. I was shocked you came back, not because I didn’t want you to- I’ve been wanting you back since the day I sent you away- but because I couldn’t imagine what you wanted with me after I’d been so vile.”

Emma’s grey eyes stare into mine, too wide and glassy. She blinks, and tears fall down her cheeks, gutting me. “You… you wanted me back?” she whispers.

“Every day,” I tell her firmly. “Every fucking day. I just couldn’t face my own idiocy. I’m sorry. I can never tell you how much.”

Her trembling lips curl in a smile. “I’ll let you make it up to me,” she says, and I take that as an invitation to kiss her again. Before I can, though, she pulls back a little. Her smile is more uncertain. “I came back because I- I had to tell you. I’m… I’m pregnant, Achilles.”

For the second time today, my heart jerks to a stop in my chest. It hurts, but it’s not a bad pain. “You- you are?”

Emma nods. Her face is still in my hands, and my thumbs brush over her cheeks to catch more falling tears- only to catch mine too. “With twins.”

Twins . My heart feels like it’s doing cartwheels in my chest. God, despite all the mess we made between us, we made two children as well.

I wish I wasn’t standing in a dingy underground prison so I could properly respond .

“I’m so sorry I let you go,” I tell Emma instead. “We could be in Edinburgh getting officially married, thinking of baby names-”

“None of us want to be there,” she says, her smile impossibly soft. “We want to be in Ashwood House. So let’s get it back.”

I nod, and give her one last lingering kiss and holding her against my chest until our heartbeats entwine. The first gun goes off upstairs, and my grip tightens protectively over her. “Stay right next to me,” I tell her, removing one of the handguns from her waistband and tangling my other hand with hers.

Emma pulls the second gun and nods. “Paul is here too. He’ll watch our back.”

I look to the door at the end of the hall, where the man I shot in the arm on the American Warwick estate is standing watch. He glances back at us and catches my eye, a threat passing between us even in the dim light. He came here in support of Emma’s desires, but that doesn’t mean he’s entirely forgiven me .

I can respect that.

The gunshots are coming faster above our heads now. Men are shouting and footsteps are pounding up and down stairs. I need to get to Fantasia, need to put an end to all of this for good, but I also need to be more careful than I have up until this point for Emma’s sake. And our child’s.

The cellar outside the door is empty, and we hurry up the stairs to the first floor without trouble. There, we run into the first bodies. My cousin, Skylar, is slumped against the wall with dead mercs littering the hall ahead of him. He’s still conscious, but his hand is pressed against a bleeding wound in his stomach. He waves me off when I try to help him.

“Get that crazy bitch,” he hisses, “I can take another hit or two.”

On the stairs to the second floor we get caught between a group of mercs trying to barricade themselves inside a room, and two more coming up the stairs. Paul covers our backs, and Emma uses my body as a shield while holding her own aim steady. The banister next to my head explodes, sending a splinter of wood flying past my cheek.

I shoot two men, and Emma gets another before my uncles come down the hall from the other direction. Now the barricaded men are caught between us, and my uncles roar and charge in as I lay down covering fire. Carlisle picks up one of the hall tables at the top of the barricade and tosses it like a bar stool at a merc, toppling him and possibly shattering his spine. The last two mercs go down like dropped sacks, and Emma, Paul, and I press on down the hall.

We kick in every door as we pass it on our way to Fantasia’s room and clear each room to make sure we aren’t bracketed in by an ambush. My route through this house from a year ago is overlapping with the present. Emma’s hand fisted in the back of my suit jacket keeps me anchored in the here and now.

It takes me the first kick to realize we’ve reached my sister’s door. The lock snaps, but the door only opens a few inches. She’s shoved furniture up against it.

I hear her scream frantically from inside. “NO- GET AWAY FROM ME! DON’T HURT ME!”

Does she know it’s me, or does she think I’m one of the mercs? Have they threatened her before, or is she fighting with ghosts?! I don’t have time to think through it. I kick again, forcing the door open several more inches, and hear Fantasia shriek again, the sound dissolving into sobs. I hear the scrape of wood on wood, and for a second I think she’s trying to push another table in front of the door.

Then I realize she’s opened her window.

Her second story window.

“FANTASIA, NO!” I roar, throwing myself against her door with all my strength. The wood splinters on its hinges and crashes down over the barricade, and I leap with it. Fantasia has one leg up on the edge of the window, her hands gripping the threshold- but not tightly enough.

The last time I moved this fast, I was about to kill the men who’d dared to break into my daughter’s room.

I crash into Fantasia, hitting her at an angle to avoid both of us tumbling out the window. I spin, lifting her right off her feet, and slam my back against the wall with her body pinned against my chest. She screams and flails in my arms, but I don’t let go.

Adrenaline floods my veins, my whole body trembling, but I don’t loosen my grip.

Emma goes straight for the window, slamming it shut on the cold air. Fantasia stops fighting physically, but now her breath heaves and catches on angry sobs. Her fingers clutch at my arms, still holding her tight around the waist, but she’s not trying to pull me off of her.

She’s… clinging to me.

“It’s okay, little princess,” I gasp. “I’ve got you. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

We didn’t even need to capture Fantasia to chase off half the mercs in the house. Once they realized this wouldn’t be an easy paycheck, they left with their pockets stuffed with silverware. The ones that were left alive after our surprise attack surrendered as soon as they were told their boss was in our hands.

The Ashwoods fared well considering our small numbers. Harper’s and Carlisle’s body armor took several hits. Skylar was rushed to the hospital, and we won’t know if he’ll survive until after emergency surgery. The rest of us received scrapes and grazes, but are otherwise unharmed.

Fantasia will spend the night in the dungeon she put me into. Every one of her sobs tears holes in my chest, but I don’t let myself look back when I leave her down there.

Back in the house, I put my arms around Emma and refuse to let go as I lead her up the stairs.