Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 95013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you.” Darius suddenly raised his voice, his temper flaring, and he was louder than the speaker system tied to the microphone my mother had just used. Now his eyes were narrowed and locked on my face with the fires of vengeance. “What did I say would happen if you broke your word?”
I’d been happier than I’d ever been just moments ago—and now I breathed my final breaths. I wanted to rip this man apart, muscle from bone, ligaments from joints, but I would probably never get close enough.
“I said I would kill every person you’ve ever known and loved. Which means . . .” He turned around in a full circle, gesturing to the five hundred guests who had come to my wedding. “All of you are dead. Every single fucking one of you.” He made eye contact with me. “Thanks to this pompous fucking asshole who can’t shoot a gun straight.” He clapped his hands once. “So, how should we start?” Then he took a step toward my mother and Aurelia.
I jumped over the table so fast. Tore off my jacket and cast it aside in a rush. “Darius, I swear to fucking God—”
“Your mother.” He pointed at my mother, who continued to guard Aurelia like she was her own daughter. “Or your wife.” He grabbed Aurelia by the arm and started to tug her forward, making her stand beside my mother.
“Darius.”
The table behind him had a group of men and women, and two of the guys lunged for it, trying to tackle Darius from behind.
Gunfire erupted, and every guest at the table was sprayed with bullets. The room screamed, and everyone ducked under their chairs for cover.
“No one is going anywhere,” Darius said calmly. “So, what’s it going to be?” He pointed at my mother. “Your mother.” Then he pointed at Aurelia. “Or your wife. Who should go first, Constantine?” He turned back to me, arms crossed over his chest. “And yes, I’ll stomp on their arms and legs and spine, and we’ll all listen to them scream as every single one of their bones snaps in half before I shove them into an oil drum, just like your asshole brother.”
My mother couldn’t control her pained gasp, learning the truth in the most graphic way possible. She had to grab on to Aurelia’s hand for balance, like she might fall over.
There was a malicious glint in his eyes like he was enjoying this, like he’d been plotting this since I’d shot him in the head, like he’d purposely lain low and waited until this moment because it would be far more worthwhile. “And I’ll cut out your baby and throw it into the sea—”
“I swear to fucking God—”
“Your wife or your mother. Choose.”
My muscles were flexed with rage-soaked blood, and it would take at least twenty bullets to slow me down. I thought I was angry when my brother died, but this was borderline derangement.
My mother and Aurelia shrank back against the table, and Darius and I continued our standoff.
Then Darius moved toward them. “Then it looks like I’ll choose for you.”
I launched into a sprint, knowing the spray of bullets would kill me, but if I could kill him first, then my mother and Aurelia had a chance to get out of there alive.
A nearby gunman moved in my way, pointing his rifle right into my chest and forcing me back. Then he put the gun to my temple and kicked the backs of my knees until I was forced to the floor, on my knees, the barrel loaded with a magazine pressed right into me.
I felt sweat pour down my face, felt my veins pop until they nearly burst from my flesh. Restrained and helpless, I watched Darius grab my mother by the arm and force her toward the center of the floor.
Medusa continued to growl and then started to bark, mad as hell but still obeying the command I’d issued.
“Darius, name your price. I’ll give you whatever you want. Break my spine and make me your new nightstand—”
He continued to grip my mother by the arm, and he sneered at me. “Not enough money in the world, Constantine—”
It happened so fast, I almost missed it.
My mother pulled out a steak knife that she must have grabbed from the table she’d been backed into and stabbed it right into his neck. Stabbed it so deep that the hilt of the knife almost got lost in his flesh. And then she stabbed him again . . . and again.
Darius stumbled for a moment, unable to process the shock of what had happened.
The gunman turned his rifle toward them, but there was no way to shoot my mother without also shooting Darius because they were so tangled together.
And my mom was still going for it, stabbing him over and over. Her eyes were maniacal, and she looked like a bloodthirsty wolf that finally caught its prey in a blizzard and ripped it to shreds. “You touch my son and think you’ll get away with it, you son of a bitch!”