Page 116 of Heartless Sinner

To his surprise, I headbutt him, feeling the satisfying crunch of cartilage. "Don't you fucking talk about my wife like that."

"She's mine." Blood sprays from his lips with each word. “You stole her from me.”

"Scarlett was never yours." The words come out as a deadly promise.

I think of all the things Scarlett told me about this motherfucker and use it as I lunge myself forward and slam into him. We're like two titans crashing into each other.

The impact sends shockwaves through my bones as the wooden floorboards creak beneath our feet, a haunting melody to our deadly battle.

The force of our collision sends us both crashing to the floor in a flurry of fists and guns. My shoulder slams into the hardwood first, the impact jarring through my bones and I lose one of my guns.

Anton lands half on top of me, his blood-soaked shirt leaving wet smears against my skin.

He's strong despite his wounds. I buck up hard, throwing him off balance, and we roll across the floor, trading blow for blow. My elbow finds his bullet wound and he howls like a wounded animal.

His gun skids away in our struggle, spinning across the blood-slicked floor. Mine's still in my grip, but he's got my wrist pinned.

Slamming my forehead into his nose loosens his grip and allows me to wrench my gun hand free.

I press the barrel against his chest and pull the trigger twice. The shots are deafening this close, but they’re a beautiful sound.

Anton's body goes rigid, his eyes widening. He looks across the room at Scarlett and reaches out to her.

“This is for her,” I inform him and he looks back at me, the life in his eyes waning. “You claim to love her, but you never knew what love was. Now you will never touch her again,bastardo.”

His blood pools around us, then he goes slack, but still, I press the Beretta to his forehead and pull the trigger one final time.

The shot echoes through the room like thunder.

Then the sudden silence settles over us.

It's over.

It’s finally over.

Scarlett sits by the fire in the living room, sipping on a cup of hot cocoa Maria made her.

It’s not cold enough for a fire, but it’s soothing. We both need soothing now.

The house is finally free of blood, bodies, and gore.

Unlike the warzone it was a few hours ago, it feels like home again.

I feel like myself again, too.

I was able to use the intel from Jenson’s phone to track down Marcus Cage and any other Nexxus member who wanted the blueprints.

The Creed emissaries in Switzerland picked him up in a hotel at a high-stakes poker game. I’ve told them to deal with him accordingly once they’d extracted any necessary information. Suffice to say, he won’t be bothering me anymore.

I walk over to the sofa and join Scarlett.

She tries for a warm smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Although the fight is over, she’s worried about her father. Mymen were able to get him back, and he’s okay, but he took a bad beating. We’re flying over to Denver tomorrow to see him.

I search Scarlett’s face. The bruise on her cheek is darker now. The sight enrages me. This has happened to her too many times since I’ve known her.

Once was enough. Twice makes me feel like a failure. It won’t happen a third time.

“How are you doing?” I brush her cheek, and she sets her cup down so she can rest against me.

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