Page 141 of Ruthless Redemption

A faint banging carries from the house.

I swing around. Layla’s fist hits the glass, her eyes screaming for help.

“Fuck.” Remy draws his weapon, but his attention isn’t on her. It’s on the men rushing around the side of the house, dressed in black, guns in hand.

A shot is fired.

Salvatore shoves to his feet.

“My gift to you.” Emmanuel grins, raising his arms at his sides. “Purgatory.”

“Get to Layla,” I yell at my brothers, lunging for the table. “Help her.” I snatch a butter knife and heave the projectile over Adena’s shoulder at the guard raising his weapon toward me.

I hit him in the gut as Salvatore runs for the house. The guard drops his weapon, clutching at the silver protruding from his stomach.

Adena cries out and launches to her feet.

Gunshots erupt behind me, the blasts blazing in all directions.

I flip the table, needing cover, making Emmanuel and Adena skitter backward. Then I pounce at that fucking asshole, my shoulder charging into his chest, sending us both toppling toward the floor, taking the wheelchair out along the way.

Kill the king. Crumple the empire.

Once he’s dead, Layla will be okay. These men won’t fight without a leader. Without payment.

I climb over him as he struggles, pinning him to the deck to the soundtrack of Adena’s screams, the birds wailing louder.

“I’ve waited a lifetime for this.” I get in Emmanuel’s face. Eye to eye. Man to man. “Until Layla, I wanted nothing more than your blood on my hands.”

“No,” he rasps. “Wait.”

“Did you wait for Grace?” I snatch the blade from my pocket, my chest pounding as I sink it into his gut. “Did you listen to her beg?”

He jolts with the impact. Mouth agape. Eyes bugged.

I thought this would feel victorious. That the energy-rich adrenaline I’m accustomed to would smother me in relief. But there’s only fear. Blinding. Terrifying.

I need to get to Layla.

“Did you?” I sneer. “Did you listen to her plead for her life?”

Adena surges toward me with a wail, her fingers clawing for my face. I grab her wrists and backhand her, sending her toppling to the deck floor.

Emmanuel snatches for the blade, but I reclaim it first, pressing harder into him, digging the knife deeper.

He closes his eyes, his chest jostling. Over and over.

With the discord pummeling my ears, I can’t tell if he’s coughing, choking, or fucking crying. But it disgusts me all the same. Right up until his lips curve, a smile breaking through to make it known I was wrong on all assumptions because he’s not struggling at all. He’s fucking laughing.

“Yes, I listened to her beg.” He flashes his teeth now tinged with the slightest hint of blood. “And I dreamed about it for years. She was such a pretty little bitch. With a tight fucking pussy. I bet Layla will be the same once my men get hold of her.”

I yank the blade free and roar as I plunge it into his neck.

I steal his humor, snatching it away with a strike so clean and hard he falls silent.

“No.” Adena scrambles from me, coming at me from behind as I saw the blade, cutting through his throat, coating my hands in his blood.

He gapes, clutching for his throat as weight slams into my back. Then agonizing pain. I launch from his chest, swinging into a crouch behind the table, the corner of my eye catching sight of a shard of porcelain plate embedded in my shoulder near my neck as bullets ping off the pool house.

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