Page 27 of Daddies' Little Assassin

The toe of my boot caught on a loose floorboard, and I stumbled. Hard. My knee hit the ground with a crack, and I went down in a heap, slamming into a server carrying a tray of drinks. Glass shattered, and neon-coloured cocktails splashed everywhere, drenching my clothes.

My Daddies must have felt my anxiety spike because their answering worry jumped back at me through our bond.

The server cursed at me, and a few club goers turned to stare. My heart raced, and I felt my damn palms grow sweaty.

I hadn't been clumsy like this, since right before I met my Daddies, and I'd honestly thought that meeting them... bonding with them... had sorted out myunluckystreak.

Why on earth was it back now, and biting me in the ass?

The answer hit me like a slap to the face. My Daddies.

Ever since my initial blunder, I'd been around at least one of them. Somehow, they were the cure for my clumsiness.

I cursed under my breath. This was not a helpful revelation to make right before going in for another kill... without my Daddies here.

Chester's goons noticed the commotion and stood up, their eyes narrowing as they scanned the crowd for threats.

Dammit! I needed to move. I ducked, trying to stay out of sight, because, with my current luck, there was no way they wouldn't suspect me of ulterior motives.

But as mentioned... my luck was pretty fluffing crap, so one of the guards spotted me. He started toward me, and panic twisted my gut. My current state of clumsiness wasn't just inconvenient—it was downright dangerous.

Before the goon could reach me, though, a massive figure emerged from the crowd—Henry. His expression was inscrutable, and he sent the guy flying across the room with one punch.

Chaos erupted.

Karel and Lang were right behind Henry. Karel half shifted and his tentacles shot out, wrapping around another guard and slamming him into the wall. Lang moved like a shadow, slipping behind Chester and pressing a blade to his throat before the man could even scream.

Henry reached me in two strides, scooping me up and holding me tight against his chest. "Are you okay?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous. Our bond hummed with his panic and I tried to project my feelings to him, to show him I was unharmed.

"I'm fine," I whispered, burying my face in his neck. "When I'm with you three, I'm perfect. But it seems my clumsy amps itself up when I'm too far from you."

Henry's arms tightened around me. "You'll never be more than a few feet from us again."

Chester squirmed under Lang's blade, his face pulled into a sneer. "What the fuck do you want?"

Lang leaned closer, his smile sharp and cold. "From you? Nothing but your blood spilt all over this floor."

Karel's tentacles curled lazily around Chester's legs, pinning him in place. "Shall we finish this, Little Fluff?" he asked, his blue eyes twinkling.

I nodded, the weight of failure lifting as I realized I didn't have to do this alone.

I took the blade from inside my jacket and hopped from Henry's arms, landing on my feet with no issue, now that they were close.

Stalking toward Chester, I enjoyed watching his bravado fade, quickly to be replaced with fear.

Lang snorted just as the smell of urine wafted at me.

The asshole had wet himself. Good. Let them find his body in its current state, so everyone can know how Chester died.

"Killing me gets you nowhere. Taking me down will only allow more evil bastards to pop up in my place," Chester taunted me.

My only response was to grin before putting the blade against his throat and pressing down.

A drop of blood beaded and hovered on the edge of the knife, as if in limbo, waiting for me to make my next move.

"They can come, Chester old pal. One and all. It doesn't matter how many, because together, my mates and I? We'll take them all down. Starting with you."

The slice of the knife into his throat was satisfying, but not as satisfying as knowing I spoke the truth.

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