Chapter 41 #2
To any of them. I grind my teeth, every breath shallow and rushed, tears threatening to break free.
“Go fuck yourself, Zane,” I snap, teetering on the edge of sanity.
If Rune catches on, he’ll kill them like he killed their brother. The severity of the situation hits me so hard, I nearly double over, but I grind my jaw, and straighten my spine.
My fingers furl into the fabric of my dress, eyes stinging, hating the fear circling inside me like vultures, and turn my focus to Clyde. “Let’s go.”
“Sit down,” Viper says, tone bored. “Now.”
“Guess the deal is off,” Zane says, a little too gleefully. “Rune will be disappointed.”
“The deal still stands,” Viper says. He snaps his fingers, drawing my attention to him. “Sit down.”
“I’m not a fucking dog,” I seethe. Jesus. In love with me or not, Vince really is a dick. And Viper plays him a little too well.
Zane stands from the table, tossing his napkin down on his empty plate. “Looks like she doesn’t accept,” he says to Viper before turning to Breaker. “I’m sure that goes for both of you.”
“Sit down,” Viper says again.
“Ms. Jul—” Breaker starts, but I storm away, my body trembling with too many emotions, and his words cut off. I make it all of three steps before Zane’s two bodyguards step in my way. I shove at the asshole with the grabby hands. “Move, Damon.”
Damon smirks, stepping to the side to stop me from walking around him.
“I must have forgotten to mention,” Zane says, sauntering over until he’s next to the guards, his features hard as he glares at me. “I’ve been told to bring you home for a little family meeting.”
I grind my teeth to keep from screaming. From crying. From ripping that fucking smirk off his face. Is he purposely sabotaging this? Guessing how I would react? He must have figured that, like with him, no one would bother to tell me I was expected to marry.
That I would be furious.
I am furious, but not for the reasons he thinks.
I’m too terrified to think straight. Too scared they are about to get caught if I don’t act as expected.
“Your Papa wants to talk,” Zane says. His wink makes me flinch. “Your daddy isn’t going to be pleased you’re being difficult.”
“Fuck you,” I spit out, rage boiling in my gut. Zane did this on purpose, knowing Rune will be furious with me.
Damon’s fingers curl around my upper arm. “Let’s go,” he says, yanking me roughly toward the door. My heel slips and I stumble, nearly falling over, but he grips my arm tighter, jerking me upright.
“Hands. Off.”
The sinister edge of the words makes Damon freeze.
Behind me, I feel him move before the sound of the chair skidding backward touches my ears. Electricity fizzes up my spine from the intensity of his rage, making the hair on my arms rise. Breaker’s quiet, “Don’t,” barely registers as I turn to face the table.
When our eyes meet, I see the shift in him. Viper almost seems to change form, something dark and deadly rising under his skin, shifting his boyish face into a mask of cruelty.
“Seems you forgot,” Viper says, leaning forward, placing his palms on either side of his white plate.
Every movement is calculated, all the way down to his breathing.
Precise. Controlled. But coiled up tightly, ready to spring loose and poison everything within his reach. “No one touches what is mine.”
Every single syllable pulses like a heartbeat in my ears. My stomach dips as Viper reaches for the silverware on the table. Metal glints as he picks it up. I already know what he’s going to do before he does it. Instead of saying, No, don’t, my mouth goes dry and the words get caught in my throat.
With a quick flick of his wrist, the knife flies, somehow almost too fast to see, but also in slow motion. Or maybe it’s the aftermath that seems to slow down time.
I don’t hear the whip of it moving through the air, don’t hear as it embeds itself in soft tissue. What I hear comes too late. It’s the soft gasp of shock followed by the slight gurgle as the guard exhales a shaky breath.
Warmth hits my face. The guard’s hand falls from my arm. I take a step back, turning to face Damon.
His hand flies to his neck, his features frozen, brows slightly knitted, almost as if confused.
Blood gushes in a dramatic spray outward, staining his suit, splashing his face.
Gushing out and hitting Zane’s bright white shirt.
It sprays the table, dotting the white china and silver platters.
Landing grotesquely on the stacks of bagels and mixing with the red jellies.
The guard drops to his knees, struggling for air, his fucking life, and what feels like seconds, minutes, an eternity later, he falls forward face first onto the stone floor.
“Jesus fuck, come on,” Zane screams, but it sounds like he’s in another dimension.
Viper grips my arm and gently pulls me toward him, locking eyes with Zane. “The deal is done,” he says. “Touch what’s mine again, and I’ll fucking ruin you.”
Zane steps back, his face contorting with anger.
Viper points to the body on the floor. “Get your man to remove this sack of shit. And I expect payment before the cutlery is shipped.”
Zane snaps, pointing to the body on the floor, and the man who missed the knife’s blade and Viper’s fury by inches grabs the dead man by his shoulders and drags him away, a trail of blood streaking across the floor.
“Cora,” Clyde shouts. He snaps his fingers in my face. I pull my eyes up from the wet streak marring the perfect stones to his brown eyes. “We have to go. Rune wants to see you.”