Page 61 of Vicious Addictions

Four to go.

I can feel the exhaustion creeping in, my breath coming faster, my muscles burning with effort. A foot connects with my ribs, and I bite down a cry of pain as I stagger. The only woman who still remains in the battle uses the moment to grab my wrist, twisting it sharply. My knife drops to the floor with a metallic clang.

One mistake.

I don’t have the luxury of making more.

I growl, twisting my entire body into motion, flipping the woman over my shoulder, and sending her crashing onto the marble floor. Before anyone has time to lunge at me, I pull two knives from my suit and drive them forward, stopping just shy of her throat.

I throw her a cocky grin before flinging my daggers into her arms, blood gushing from the inflicted wounds.

Silence falls over the foyer, heavy and absolute.

Three down.

Three to go.

I crack my neck side to side and eye the brutes that stand in front of me, pissed that I’ve gotten this far.

“Well, lads, shall we continue this dance, or have you had enough?” I goad, gaining a few laughs from the crowd.

Of course, they come at me at full strength, and suddenly, my mind cannot keep up with my body’s reactions to each imminent threat. I’m running on instinct alone and make a mental note of getting Remus and Rolo anything they want as a thank-you gift for having trained me so well. I’m unsure if it were mere minutes that have passed or if it has been hours, as time seems to have lost all its meaning.

Yet, I keep at it—with every precise punch and every unforgiving kick.

I’m down to my last dagger when one of the brutes lunges at me, but I sidestep just in time, twisting his arm behind his back before driving my elbow into his ribs. Another comes at me just as fast, causing me to drop down low, sweeping his legs out from under him, his head cracking against the marble floor. The third grabs me from behind, but I shift my weight, using his own momentum to flip him over to the ground. Just as he scrambles to his feet, the first rays of sunlight streak across the windowpane, bathing the hall in incandescent gold.

One by one, my opponents fall still. Their black attire is now tattered from the cuts I’ve inflicted, bruises forming around their jaws and eyes, yet they remain perfectly still instead of unleashing their wrath on me. Not because they want to, but because I have won.

Breathless, I rise, my knives still poised in my hands, my body trembling from exertion. I turn my gaze upward, locking my eyes with my father. His lips curve into the barest hint of a smile.

Approval.

Relief.

Absolute joy.

Felix’s expression remains cold, but I can see the respect swimming in his eyes.

And Jude…

Rolo and Remus are currently holding his arms behind his back to keep him still while he stares at me as if he no longer recognizes the girl he thought he knew.

The realization settles into my bones, a strange mix of triumph and finality.

I’ve done what I set out to do.

Only time will tell if it was the right thing.

Chapter 10

Jude

Twenty-two years old

I dream in chess moves.

And it’s all her fault.

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