Dark Prince (Devious Heirs #1)

Chapter Twenty Six | Cordelia

I rip the door open and jump into the hall, prepared to fight who the fuck ever I find, but no one is here. They suck at guarding their prisoner. Then again I was tied to a chair, maybe they didn’t think I’d break free, why though? Because I’m a woman, bad news for them. Never underestimate a determined woman, we’ll wreak havoc on everything just because you said we couldn’t.

Taking a look around at the hallway I see, nothing. There's fucking nothing but the concrete floor and some bad chipped paint in the walls. It looks like they used to be green. Not a pretty green either, that nasty green that makes you want to vomit. Whoever invented or came up with that color should be shot.

There's a few doors that I could try, maybe there's something stabby in there I could use. Tapping my fingers together like an evil villain, I proceed through the hallway until I reach door number one. Tell me folks, did I make the right choice? I twist the knob and it creaks a little and ta-da. Fucking empty. Rude.

Onto door number two. I have a good feeling about this one as I rub my hands together in anticipation. I don't even bother with the knob this time, I kick the door and watch the wood splinter at the frame. A laugh bubbles out of me when I see a large array of weapons. Idiots. Leaving their things so very unprotected. It'd be a shame if someone took them. Bursting through the room, I spot several knives and a few guns that I could easily equip and use to fight my way out of here.

Grabbing a few different holsters, I strap them on over my shoulders, around my waist and thigh, even on my ankles and wrists. I stuff guns and knives in each one and pick up the final two blades with a deep breath. I don't need Axel to save me, I don't need anyone. I am going to save myself and it'll rain blood today.

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Past

M Y BLOOD BOILS AS I watch my mother sitting on the couch cuddling him. Clayton pretends nothing is wrong with what happens at night after she's gone to sleep. She thinks our life is perfect, she found the perfect man. Little does she know what he's truly like. There's an itch in my soul that is waiting for relief, one that can't be touched. My fists clenched around the hilt of the knife as I stand in the kitchen, waiting for him to come in here. I will kill him. I will put a knife through his body so he can see what it feels like to be rendered helpless.

I will never be helpless again.

The rage that consumes me is too much after what he did. He forced me to do so many horrible things, he forced me to take him, every single night. He told me I was made just for him, I was the only girl he ever truly loved.

Lies.

He never loved me, he just used my body. He touched me without permission because he wanted it. No one will ever touch me again, unless I let it happen. I am the one in control.

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Present

I SHAKE THE MEMORY of the first time I held a knife with the intention of killing someone and steady myself, completely calm and ready to kill anyone here. Even if they're here by orders and they haven't touched me, they allowed it to happen. Everyone will die, by my hand.

With careful steps, I poke my head back through the doorway, a little worried I alerted someone when I kicked the door in, but again, there's no one. Is it just myself and the two guys? That'd be a pity, I really want to kill more than two, I need the release. The rush of being in control after everything I've endured.

Raped.

Kidnapped.

Forced into submission.

All of these things have happened to me, and I don't like how out of control it's made me feel. There's no center to this chaos. No rhyme or reason. Everything has a reason, it has to or the world falls into turmoil and I can't have that.

I hear footsteps down the hall so I tuck myself against the doorframe and wait, my heart racing from the possibilities, they're limitless right now. I don't know who's going to appear and that's so fucking exciting. Are they going to fight back, or will this be a slaughter. I don't know and I truly can't wait to find out.

When the footsteps stop, I hear a whisper, “What happened to the door?” A man says, or a soon to be dead man.

“Not sure,“ another soon to be dead man replies back.

“Ready yourself.” The other one shuffles his feet and I do my best not to dance on my toes when I hear them walking towards me.

Blood rushes to my ears as I spot the hands of one of them holding a gun out in front of them coming through the doorway. I know there's two, so I'll need to act quickly. I grab his wrist and fling him against the wall, stabbing a knife into his neck quickly, ripping it through the side to the front. The red splatter decorates the wall as the other guy jumps for me, but I'm faster. I sidestep him and sink the knife into his throat, right in the Adam's apple, slicing through him like butter. His eyes are wide as he drops the gun and reaches up for his neck.

“It'll be over soon.” I say booping his nose as he stumbles forward. “Night night.” I give a little wave and step over his body. Two down, who knows how many more to go.

As I wander down the hall, I spot two more guards, with their back to me, chatting it up like they're not meant to be working or something. With a knife in each hand, I jump up behind them and stab through their necks, severing their jugular veins in a split second, making sure I went far enough in and over to hit their vocal cords, too. Big dumbos, this is why you always keep your back to the wall. A little skip and I'm off to find the next guy as a song pops into my head. I hum the tune and find myself giddy as I approach the end of the hall, finding one final door.

I expect to see my grandfather and that younger voice guy from earlier in this final room. The one who took my blood will die first and it won't be quick, but I need to subdue him before he gets the upper hand. If he's even a fighter. What if he's just a poor nurse, looped in on the Romano lifestyle. I tap my chin, could he be innocent?

Nah, the asshole will still die, by my hand, today, or is it night time now? I bust the door down with a kick, jump scaring the old man in a suit and the young guy in track pants. Who the fuck still wears track pants, are those making a come back?

“Cordelia?” The old man says, stuffing his hands into his pockets like I’m not a threat. I’m literally wearing weapons all over my body.

Leaning against the frame of the door I twirl the knife in my hand. “Paul.” The disdain I have for this man is unreal. “Your father must've hated you, or maybe it was your mother, I don't know, nor do I care. However, the question in my head remains the same. Why is your name Paul?” I ask.

“I was named after my mother's father.” Paul replies, looking bored as the wrinkles on his face remain nearly unmoving. It's sort of creepy, in a scary movie kind of way.

“Paul isn't very, I don't know, Romano? It's more of an old English name. Nothing scary, it doesn't strike the fear into men's hearts. Garrett, Axel, Cordelia, those are powerful names. Yours makes you sound like an everyday Joe. Not some all-powerful wanna-be gangster who failed to do anything with his life.”

“What do you know about being a gangster?” He laughs.

“Nothing, but I've probably killed more men than you, hell I've killed four today. About to be six.” I push off the frame and step into the room. The younger guy in track pants steps between my grandfather and I. “Listen, Vanilla Ice, I'll put you down faster than the one hit wonders career took off.” I point my blade at him, watching as he cracks his neck to the side.

“I'd like to see you try G.I. Jane.” He quips back, pulling a gun from his waistband.

“Have you ever watched a movie, my guy? Knives always win in close combat.” I dip down and roll underneath track pants slicing my blade through his inner thigh just as the gun goes off, making my ears ring. “Dumbass. We're in close quarters, you'll blow out our eardrums.” I pull out a second knife from my belt and stab it into the back of his leg, hearing him drop as I stand up to face Pitiful Paul, who looks dumbfounded. “What's the matter Grandpa, cat got your tongue?”

He straightens his face and stands tall as I hear track pants move. The idiot has a built in alarm system with those pants. I turn and launch a knife at him watching it sink into his eye as his head falls back, “Bullseye. Fifty points.” I do a little celebratory dance in my excitement and when I look over at Paul, he's not amused.

“Where do you have the right to kill my men?” He asks sternly.

“Where do you have the right to kidnap me, blindfold me, steal my blood, and well anything else you may have done?”

“I was just trying to retrieve my granddaughter from the clutches of the Mazitti's.” He rubs a hand over his wrinkled face and lets out a sigh.

I stomp my foot and pout, “I'm tired of this Grandpa!” Then a laugh bubbles out of me, such an iconic scene, but it seems lost on him. “I haven't needed you in years! Where were you when I was a kid, being molested?”

“Cordelia.” He says my name with such malice that it makes me excited.

“Paul.” I match his tone and face him, “We should really get this over with, if I know Axel, he'll be here any minute since he hasn't showed up yet and I really don't want to be saved by him. It'll only fuel his ego.”

The crazy old man runs a hand through his hair, laughing hysterically, which only pisses me off. “You think you can kill me?” The way he says that, tells me that he really thinks I can't do this, that there's no way he could fathom I'll be the one to kill him. “I've had one pathetic woman trying to kill me for years,”

“I'm not her.” I state, holding a gun up to his face. “I'm done being told what I can and can't do, old man.” I pull the trigger and watch as his head jerks backwards, the momentum of the bullet making his body fall backwards.

When he thuds to the ground, I feel like this was completely underwhelming. I didn’t even get to gouge someone's eyes out. Dropping my arms down to my sides I look down at the two dead bodies and sigh. “Party poopers.” I mumble, wishing I hadn’t killed them so quickly.

I hear more footsteps, rushing towards me so I whip my head around, feeling exhilarated. I get to go on a killing spree and then I’m going to burn this fucking place to the ground.

Pulling a knife out of the sheath on my thigh, I prepare for a fight, when one man walks through the door. I punch out, missing as he ducks and lands a blow to my side. “Dickbag.” I cough out, dropping low to stab him in the thigh. When I pop up, I elbow him in the nose and throat fuck him with my fingers, hitting that Adam’s apple. He stumbles back, coughing as I kick him in the chest and watch him fall backward. Jumping on top of him, I drill my knife down through his hands and throat, making sure I get all the way through. He spits out blood, trying to get his hands back, but he can’t. “You all should have just left me alone.” I tsk, yanking the knife out as I hear another door opening.

I run for that opening door and find myself standing in front of a large window. I scream out as I see a man charging at me. I punch out with one hand and then slice through his neck with the other, the blood splattering on the window. I push the window open and lift my latest victim, tossing him out only to see him. Axel.

“What took you so long?” I ask, shouting down to Axel as I climb up on the edge of the window.

“Don’t you fucking jump!” He shouts, running towards me but the body I tossed out lands in front of him with a sickening thud. A smile curves my lips as I prepare to jump, because fuck him and his uptight self.