Page 43 of Grumpy Billionaire Bad Boy

"You fucking bastard," Seven yells. "I'll fucking kill you." He hits Archer again in the face, and harder in the gut.

Archer doesn't let up. He smashes his fist into Seven's jaw like he's been waiting far too long for this to happen, like this isn't just about what happened here today, but something else, something bigger.

"Stop it," Ivy screams into the chaos. "Both of you, fuckingstop."

But neither of them do. They keep hitting each other, over and over, blood staining their faces, fists, and everything in a two-foot radius.

Archer swipes his leg so fast I almost miss it, knocking Seven's legs out from under him, and climbs on top of him, hitting him repeatedly in the face, a sort of anger in him being unleashed that I didn't know he was capable of.

You've only known him a week, I remind myself and realize I'm living with a stranger.You know nothing about him, London, you stupid, stupid girl.

And even though I know I should be more afraid, there's something in me that's ignorant to the fear, having lived with my father all my life. I'm no stranger to violence.

"You." Archer hits him. "Fucking. Bastard." Every word is another blow.

"Cut it out, Archer, you're going to fucking kill him." Ivy reaches for his shoulder, but he shrugs her off, rage blinding him.

"Archer," I say, my voice quiet. I clear my throat. "Archer."

His attention flickers to me, only for the briefest moment, but it's enough for Seven to buck his hips in just the right way to knock Archer off him and pin him under his body. Archer wriggles, but it's no use. Seven seized the moment and is now in control of the situation.

Seven wraps his hands around Archer's throat, squeezing tighter and tighter, my heart constricting with his grip. "I'll fuckingkillyou."

Archer gasps and pries at Seven's fingers but it's futile.

"Stop," Ivy yells into the chaos again. "Seven, stop!"

"Step back," Grace tells Ivy and me, her hands out to signal to us.

I clutch my chest, unsure of what's going to happen, what she's going to do.

She looks around, latching onto the chair she was once sitting in, and picks it up. For a second, she struggles, but then this strange calm washes over her. Grace draws back, chair in her grip, and drives it sideways and forward, crashing it over Seven's back. Wood splinters, chair legs go flying, and Seven goes still and then falls to the ground as Archer gasps.

I'm on my knees in a flash, my hands finding Archer's cheeks. "Are you okay?"

He blinks up at me and coughs, blood sputtering out. "I'm good," he croaks. Archer lies there for a long moment and looks from Grace, who holds the remains of the chair in her hands, to Seven who's unconscious next to him. "Good job."

Archer takes Ivy's arm and she helps hoist him to his feet. He runs his palm over his face, flinching and flexing his jaw.

"You okay?" she asks him, her face pinched with concern.

"I'm fine." Archer sucks in a breath. "This place, though, is a fucking disaster." He kicks Seven, nudging him onto his back. "Is he dead?"

Grace stoops and studies Seven seriously. "No, he's still breathing."

Archer reaches for Seven's hands, moving them and hooking his arms up under Seven's armpits. "Grab his feet," he tells Ivy. "Help me move him."

Ivy complies without question, taking Seven's ankle into her hands and wiggling forward to get a more solid handle on him. "Why is he so heavy?" she mumbles.

The two of them scoot their way closer to the door but Ivy loses her hold twice.

"Never mind," Archer huffs. "I'll just…" He hoists Seven's large but semi-lifeless body onto his shoulder with a grunt. "Get the door for me."

Ivy rushes over, opens the door, and disappears through it with her two brothers.

"What the fuck," I mutter into the eerily quiet space.

"Where's the dustpan?" Grace says out of nowhere.

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