Page 138 of Capuleto

"Oh, I can and I will, you can be sure of that. And this time, nothing and no one will stop me."

I reached the bathroom and, without opening the window, looked out.

My boss was climbing down a drainpipe. It was better to catch them from below.

I headed out and urged Romeo to follow, dragging the redhead along.

56

Scent of betrayal

Yuri

My sister collapsed onto the dumpster.

The bags cushioned the impact. She seemed to have lost consciousness, and if Irene was right, I had lost her.

Could she have fallen in love with that damn Romeo? I wasn't sure. If she had, I was screwed and wouldn’t hesitate to fix it.

I descended quickly, taking only seven seconds to climb down to the first floor and reach the dumpster with a jump.

I shook her to wake her up. She didn't move an inch and was burning up. I debated whether to take her with me or leave her there. In this state, she was a burden, but if she was indeed pregnant, I might still find some use for her.

Going back to my car wasn't a good idea, as that meant re-entering the hospital. Capulet wouldn’t stay idle, so the smartest move was to flee in the opposite direction from the main entrance.

I quickened my pace through the alley. Luckily, my sister was lightweight. Her wearing a hospital gown might raise suspicions, so finding a fast vehicle was crucial.

Fortune smiled on me. There was a taxi stand five meters away, just around the corner. I headed toward it.

The taxi driver was busy chatting with another person outside the vehicle, so he didn't pay attention to Nikita's attire.

I swiftly opened the back door and shoved my sister into the seat.

The driver quickly took his place behind the wheel.

A shot rang out too close for comfort. I jumped in beside Nikita, slammed the door shut, and demanded the driver start the car, claiming it was a robbery and that I had seen the assailants’ faces.

The driver looked frightened. He believed my story and pressed the accelerator as bullets whizzed by.

I turned my head and saw Romeo's furious expression receding into the distance.

"Should I take you to the police station?" the scared driver asked. "Is your wife okay?" His eyes searched for the female figure in the rearview mirror.

"She fainted from the shock. Don’t take us to the station. I’ll pay you double the fare if you floor it."

"I could get a ticket."

"That’s much better than a bullet, don’t you think?" The man tensed up. "Take us to the port."

I couldn’t go back home, and checking into a hotel would ensure they found me. The best option was to go to the place where I had Cheng hidden.

"To the port?" the driver asked, puzzled. I gave him a menacing look.

"Your job is to drive, not ask questions. Save your breath because you're not a journalist, and I haven’t granted you an interview. Keep your eyes on the road and make sure we're not followed." My sharp tone put him on alert.

"Yes, sir," was his final response.

He didn't speak again until we arrived at the port to tell me the fare, to which I added the agreed-upon amount and a generous tip with a warning that it was best to forget this ride ever happened.