Page 105 of King Of Order

I tried to push him away. He had me pinned.

‘Bitch,’ he crowed. ‘You’ve got nothing on me. I eat women like you for breakfast.’

Blood dripped as I stood trembling in rage, still pressed against the glass, his face so close that the wet steam from his mouth fell on me.

‘Ah, Chiara,’ he growled, dripping with condescension. ‘So beautiful. How many hits would it take to destroy that face?’

My pulse quickened. I attempted to back away, but his fists only tightened. ‘Your brother and I had a deal. And we expect you to honor it.’

My stomach twisted at the mention of my freakin’fratello.

I swallowed hard, fighting to keep my voice steady. ‘I’m not my sibling, Nicco. I’ve released the money per the schedule. I can’t make any more appear as if by magic. So stop hounding me. The repayments will follow the agreed plan. Whether you like it or not.’

The words sounded braver than I felt, each scraping out of my throat.

His expression darkened, his smile fading as he stepped forward again, reaching for me.

His grip was like iron, his fingers digging into my arm, making me wince. I could feel the heat of his anger radiating off him.

‘I am a Barbieri, bitch. I can do anything the fuck I want. You don’t want to cross us, Chiara. Trust me, it won’t end well for you.’

‘Release the funds, Chiara!’ he roared through the gallery thick with fury.

My legs were heavy like they were about to give out beneath me.

My breath caught in my throat. Nicco’s grip loosened, and I took the chance to pull my arm free, stumbling back. He straightened his suit and half turned from me, playing with his cuffs as if nothing had happened.

He glanced at me, then raised his hand to slap me.

I was done.

I reached for my skirt, yanked it up, and pulled on the sheathe hidden against my stocking.

Pulling out a blade, very aware of its mortal potential, I ducked his hand, slashing at his upper and lower extremities.

My strikes, driven with enraged power, were so hard, the edge so honed, that it sliced with a squelching sound through cheek and jaw.

Blood spurted as he roared in agony, clapping his hand on his torn face.

The weapon clattered to the floor.

He swiveled to me to reach for me, and I pounced.

Grabbing his arm, I twisted it until the heel of his hand pointed toward the ceiling. Then I pivoted, placing my right shoulder under his elbow.

Could I go all the way?I asked myself as Nicco dug his fingers into my throat.

Fuckin’ hell yeah.

I yanked his hand down.

‘Cazzo,’ he screamed.

His hand was not broken, but I’d given it a major wrench.

Finish this,I thought, pushing my fear aside. Spinning around to face him, I punched him twice in the nose.

Crimson gushed.

---