Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70370 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70370 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“Sit down.”
“Fuck you.”
I shot him in the knee, the excruciating pain evident on his face. He fell into the chair, shocked and in agony. “I said sit.”
Gripping at his knee, he glared at me. “Your girlfriend is dead,” he taunted. “My bomb killed her.”
“I told you not to touch her.”
“I don’t take orders from you,” he hissed, trying to be stealthy as he slid his hand down the side of the chair.
His entire body arched as my bullet found its mark in his shoulder. Marcus leaned over, pulling the gun Alex had been going for from the chair, tossing it away. Alex bared his teeth, refusing to make a sound of pain. If it were anyone else, I would have respected that.
But I had no respect for him.
I shook my head. “You failed, you little piece of shit. I got her first.”
He narrowed his eyes, his voice laced with agony. “How?”
I smirked. “Because I’m better than you are. You shouldn’t have touched her, Alex. You shouldn’t have frightened her. For that, I’m going to end you.”
I felt only satisfaction when the bullet pierced his head and he crumpled down to the side, his eyes blank and staring. The look of shock on his face was almost comical.
I pointed my gun overhead, and Marcus nodded. We were silent on the stairs. Damien slipped into the room beside Ivan’s, and I heard the muffled thump as his sidekick died.
That left Ivan.
Like a unit of death, we entered Ivan’s room, the door swinging open, announcing our arrival.
He was waiting in the corner, his gun trained on us. There was a flicker of surprise on his face. Something had alerted him to our presence and he had been expecting me, but not Marcus and Damien backing me as well. Our eyes locked in soundless fury. He knew he’d lost. He knew he was going to die. Even if he managed to shoot, he was outnumbered, and one of our bullets would pierce his skin and kill him.
“You lied, Ivan.”
He shrugged. “She must have done something. We did not detonate it.”
“You never planned on keeping her alive. Or me,” I added.
He waved his hand. “It does not matter. It is done. You are too late.”
“No, I’m not.”
“She is dead,” he announced, his eyes narrowed, waiting for my reaction.
“She is asleep under guard. I have held her and cared for her already. She was my number one priority.” I paused. “Killing you was my second.”
He glanced over my shoulder, and I shook my head. “All dead, Ivan. All of them.”
His brow furrowed as he processed the information. He tried bribery. “I could make you rich.”
“I have enough money.”
“Give you power you cannot comprehend. Make you the most feared man in the world. Luxuries beyond your imagination.”
I barked out a laugh. “Yeah, I see how well you’re doing. I have everything I need, including my soul. You, however, don’t stand a chance. You’ll be burning in hell before we’re even back in the van.”
Then, just to piss him off, I grinned. “Yuri and his family were moved. They’re safe. Given full pardon, so they’ll live free lives while you’re in eternal hell. You failed, Ivan. And all your money, all your wealth, will go to people who need help. The people you hurt. Know that as you burn.”
A tic started in his jaw, his already-frosty gaze becoming colder. His revenge had been stolen. He was being denied the satisfaction he felt due to him. He hated that more than anything.
“Drop your gun.”
He bent as if to do so, then made the big mistake of attempting to take a shot. Damien’s bullet snapped the gun from his hand as I stumbled backward from the impact as the bullet hit my flesh, the burn intense. His mark was way off and it only grazed me, but it ignited my hatred all over again. Ivan staggered backward, yelling out in pain. Damien held his stance. “If I hadn’t promised you that he was yours, I would put a bullet between his eyes right fucking now,” he growled at me.
Marcus examined me, and I shook him off. “It’s a scratch.”
He tore off the bottom of his shirt, wrapping it around the wound. “Sofia is going to have something to say about that.”
“She’s going to have a lot to say about all of this,” I muttered. Ivan watched me, holding his hand, the blood seeping out fast. I refused to show him any of my pain. I kept my face stoic. He, on the other hand, shifted and moaned from his spot on the floor where he’d dropped to.
“What do you want?” Marcus asked.
“Pick him up off the floor. Don’t bother being gentle,” I instructed.
They did, and he whimpered like a little girl as they deposited him in the chair. He clutched his hand.