Page 90 of Ferocious Nightmare

Darth didn’t answer him, but shoved me forward towards Nero.

“So, I finally discover the truth.” He straightened, his hand by his side, loosely holding the gun. “So disappointing. You were only a whore, after all.” I realized the hand holding the gun was shaking. He clenched and unclenched the gun. “I thought we were going to have some fun together.”

“Nero.” Dante tried to speak, but Nero slammed his fist against a tray of alcohol, sending bottles flying.

“I’m in charge here!” Glass shattered, the smell of alcohol scented the air like perfume. He pointed to me, heaving. “How could you choose him, over me?”

I shook my head. “What?

“He could never take care of you like I could.”

“Not true.” I whipped out viciously. “He’s ten times the man compared to you.”

“Who do you think you are anyway? Don’t you understand who I am?” He pounded his chest with the fist holding his gun. “The people I own? What I can do?” His lips lifted in a sneer. “I could buy and sell you.”

“You tried, but it didn’t work, did it?” I stared him down haughtily.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re right. It didn’t.” He suddenly turned serious, his eyes hard as stone. “But it doesn’t matter anymore.” He raised his hand and pointed the gun at me.

It went off.

“No!” Marie shrieked, jumping in front of me. The bullet hit her in the chest and she fell back against me. I didn’t catch her in time. She fell to the floor, blood blossoming on her chest.

Horror. Agony. Sadness. Then…rage.

Screaming, I swiveled towards Nero, attacking him. The dumbass was surprised when I jumped on him.

We struggled for dominance, and Dante growled my name, then everyone was fighting.

Chairs were thrown across the kitchen. Glasses shattered. Grunting and growling as men fought each other.

I clung to Nero's face, forcing him to drop the gun in his hand. He grabbed my waist, trying to peel me off of him.

I slammed my forehead into his nose…immediately regretting it.

Roaring pain split my head into two.

Nero roared, blood gushing down his face and into his mouth. His fingers dug into my side, pulling.

I clung to him harder. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I dug my heels in.

Then I hugged him tighter, shoving my chest into his face. Trying to suffocate him.

He yelled into my boobies, thrashing his face to the side.

Then he punched my side.

Once, twice, three times.

God, it hurt.

I could smell Marie's blood, knowing that she was dying on her own kitchen floor.

Rage strengthened me. I knew if I let him go, he would kill me too.

Then he’d go after Coulter.

Giving up on punching my side, he slammed me into the kitchen island. Then he swiveled, ramming the cupboards.

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