Page 14 of Fractured Devotion

She stood up, her presence suddenly more commanding as she moved closer to me.

“The Angel of Mercy is driven by a personal vendetta,” she declared. Her fierce and unwavering eyes locked onto mine. “He owned her, and in her mind, he stole something irreplaceable. Now, she’s committed to settling the score.”

“Hold up, Sofia. What are you getting at?” Lorenzo’s voice broke through the tension, a mix of confusion and urgency.

She leaned in, her words a hushed secret meant for my ears alone. “She believes Lipovsky’s the reason the man she loved is dead. That’s enough fuel for a lifelong crusade.” Pulling back, her expression hardened with resolve, Sofia addressed the whole room. “She won’t rest until she’s destroyed the man who broke her heart.”

With a dramatic flourish, she opened the door to leave, but Miguel’s voice anchored her. “Princesa, we need to talk.”

I should’ve been reeling from the intensity of it all, but Sofia’s parting shot—a defiant gesture thrown over her shoulder—was classic. It cut the heaviness, pulling an unwilling chuckle from me.

“Alex,” she said, eyes bright with a challenge. “Find the Angel, and you’ll unlock everything we’re after. Just be ready for what you find… because if I am right,” she paused. “She won’t be the woman you remember.”

eight

CARMELA

Something was going on—something that involved the man who’d followed me into the bathroom. Well, the bathroom he’d gone into. I’d pushed open the door and held it long enough to ease into the men’s room instead. As I predicted, he hurried into the lady’s room in search of me. But why? I was pretty certain that it wasn’t me he was after but Andrei. The moment I’d walked onto the casino floor, I’d felt eyes on me. A quick glance over my shoulder and I’d spotted him lurking in the shadows. I couldn’t get a clear view of his face, but based on his build, he was a big guy.

Now, hours later, I couldn’t get him out of my head. Shaking off the need to uncover his mystery, I focused on my current purpose. I’d overheard Lipovsky and Andrei discussing a key player, Oleg Drosky, set to meet them at the casino in the morning. As it turned out, his purpose was fronting the fighter scheduled to go against Ryker Nash. If my suspicions were correct, Lipovsky intended for Ryker to eliminate his prized fighter as a show of dominance. It was just one more way for Lipovsky to exert control over someone. Only… I was about to ruin his plans.

“You’re a sexy little thing, aren’t you?” Drosky’s voice washed over me as I stepped into his room. “You like playing with fire, don’t you? I’d love to see that bastard Sloski’s face when he finds out I fucked his woman.”

The words laced with Andrei’s name curled up at the edges of my mouth, a knowing smirk painting my lips. Drosky’s ignorance was almost pitiful—he had no idea that his last moments were ticking away, that his fate was sealed tighter than the snap of my dress.

“I don’t answer to Andrei,” I said, my voice steady and cool. “So, who I fuck isn’t his business.”

With a flick of my wrist, the snap gave way, and the fabric slipped from my body like a whispered secret, pooling silently at my feet. A pair of black stockings were held in place by a black lace garter belt. Beneath the belt, a black lace thong covered my core. His lecherous gaze traveled up my front, landing on the matching lace bra.

I stood confidently, a statue of flesh and shadow, my back pressed against the wall. It was crucial that he remained oblivious to the cold steel I had hidden, the blade that clung to my thigh like a dangerous secret.

In a display of feigned affection, I reached out my hand, fingers tracing the curve of Drosky’s ample midsection, my touch light against the fabric of his shirt. His eyes, wide with anticipation, followed my every move, yet revealed nothing of the thoughts racing behind them as I tugged the metal-free and popped the button to his trousers. Easing the zipper down, I pushed my hand inside his pants, rubbing the semi-hardened flesh still hidden beneath the boxers he wore.

“Fuck.” His response was primal, a guttural sound that filled the room as he thrust his hips toward me, a wordless command etched in his movements. “Take it out,” Drosky growled, the demand raw as he jerked his chin toward his waist. “I want to see those pretty little lips wrapped around my cock.” His gaze held a predatory gleam, his tongue flicking across his lips with a mix of anticipation and desire. Insistent fingers found their way to my hair, tangling in the strands with an unspoken assertion of control that he mistakenly thought he possessed.

Shoving the material down his legs, I dropped to my knees as I eased his cock out of the ill-fitting boxers. A moment of regret washed over me as I began moving my palm along his flesh. Drosky’s grunts of approval filled the room as I jerked his sorry excuse for manhood into a hardened state.

“Lick it,” he ordered, tugging on the strands of my hair. “Put it in your mouth, little girl.”

Sneering at his demands, I leaned forward and ran my tongue along the underside of his dick.

“Fuck.” His hips thrust forward again, his body demanding more. “Stop teasing me, bitch. Put it in your mouth and suck me off.”

Adjusting my position on the ground, I leaned forward and swirled my tongue around his crown. His fat dick pulsed with anticipation as I eased my free hand around my backside. Just as I took his disgusting cock in my mouth, I slipped the blade out of its hiding place. Drosky’s head lulled back as his eyes slammed shut. His grip tightened on my hair as he began thrusting his dick into my mouth. Letting go of my hold on his shaft, I pressed my palm against his portly gut. He groaned as his rhythm increased. I was nothing more than a wet hole for him to abuse.

“I can see why Andrei likes you.” He grunted. “Fuck I’m going to choke you with my cum.”

Yeah. That wasn’t happening. It was bad enough that his tiny prick was inside my mouth, but his shooting his load into my throat… that was not going to happen. Just as I felt his body tense, I pushed my blade between his legs and sat back on my heels. His eyes bulged in his head as the stark realization of what I’d done washed over him.

“What the fuck?” He muttered as I pulled the blade free, and he dropped to his knees. “You bitch…” he tried to lunge for me, but the blood caused him to slip onto his stomach. Groaning, he covered his nearly severed cock with his hands, “You fucking cut my dick off.”

Pushing him to his back, I straddled his body. My thighs pinned his arms to his sides, keeping him immobile. “Men like you deserve far worse than this.” I pressed the tip of my blade against his throat.

“Who are you?” He stuttered out, his body slowly giving out to the blood loss.

Leaning close to his ear, I whispered, “Some call me the Angel of Mercy—but I give no mercy to pigs like you. I’m the harbinger of death. The judge, the jury, and the executioner. Your death is for every woman you’ve bought and abused.”

His eyes widened just before I pushed the metal into his neck. Drosky gurgled as he took his last breath beneath me. Slipping the knife from his throat, I slid off his now still frame. Hurrying to gather my dress, I wiped the blood from my legs and tossed the towel to the ground beside his vacant stare. I should’ve been worried about being tracked, but I was near the end of my mission—once Lipovsky was eliminated, I didn’t care if I was found. I knew going after Aleski Lipovsky could end in death—his and mine. I’d made peace with that long ago… knowing I’d at least be reunited with the man he stole from me.

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