Zero's jaw clenched when he felt another bullet strike the metal wall he was leaning against. The f*****g Italian, he was apparently more valuable to the mark than Zero had thought. He had assumed that she would abandon him the instant he became dead weight, but lo and behold, she had half-carried him into the warehouse for safer shelter.
It made him all the more annoyed about not having a clear lethal shot at the man. Shielded by his bodyguards, it had been all Zero could do to land one bullet in the torso. He had to hope that it would at least nick a lung, but more importantly, incapacitate him with the sheer pain.
It hadn't worked. The mark had gone and been her unpredictable self yet again, risking life and limb to get the bleeding, wheezing DiAngelo to safer shelter.
Because that
