The streets of Rome were a blur of dim morning light slipping in.
Anastasia was ahead, the black SUV swerving dangerously around the cobblestone corners. She didn't know these streets... she was driving on pure, unadulterated adrenaline.
Matteo floored the gas. He was a frantic mess of curses and memories.
She has the Interdetto.
He knew she didn't understand Italian, whoever translated for her must have given her an idea, and he was going to fish them out after he took care of Anastasia.
He drove alongside her as they hit the long stretch of road.
"Anastasia! Stop the car!" he yelled through the open window, the wind whipping his wet hair into his eyes.
She looked over at him. Her face was red, filled with tears, her eyes wide and bloodshot. She didn't slow down. She jerked the wheel toward him, the heavy SUV slamming into the side of his car.
"You killed her!" she screamed, her voice lost in the roar of the engines.
