#Chapter 63 - Escaping the Estate

Layla “Let us go,” I said, my voice cold, steady, “Or I pull the trigger.” The rustle of cloth informed me that Marco’s bodyguards had reached for their weapons, but I didn’t budge. I was done being their fucking pawn. “Don’t even think about it. I’m not afraid to shoot.” Marco raised a hand, signaling them to stop. His dark eyes bore into mine, his jaw tight. And still, he found the words to taunt me. “You don’t have the guts.” “Try me,” I purred, and I shifted the gun up a little higher. “You’re a doctor. You know that if I shoot you here, you will die a slow, painful death.” “Layla.” The low male voice behind me froze the words in my mouth, my hand on the gun. I shifted slowly to view the speaker, keeping my gun against Marco’s taut abdomen. The man behind me, clad in the stiff suit of Marco’s bodyguards, was familiar. Too familiar. Because he’d stood outside my house every day for months. Guarding it. Guarding it in the name of Aldo Marcello. That was how Marco