Page 73 of The Kings
Raphael holds his hand out, and Tarquin slaps his knife into Raph’s palm. He grips the curved, jagged blade and positions the blade over Grenville’s fingers, which are now twitching from the nerve damage to his hand.
“No one touches her,” Raphael growls. He brings the blade down swiftly, slicing through flesh and bone. Grenville’s wails crescendo into madness as he sees his severed fingers on the table in front of him.
Heat floods through me, an illicit wave of arousal at the raw power of Raphael. My core clenches, heat pooling between my thighs. Fuck, the darkness in him calls to me, and I’m utterly unable to resist.
Raphael turns toward me, his eyes alight with a ferocious kind of satisfaction. I pant from the intoxicating desire flooding me. Each heaving breath matches the pulse of bloodlust rising within me like a tide.
“Fuck, Raph,” I whisper, my voice laced with dark desire.
I lift Flick, the cold steel catching the light, glinting ominously as I take a step forward, staring at David, who’s now slumped in the chair, wide-eyed and ragged with pain.
“You thought you could ambush me and try to kill me? That you could fuck with me and Tarquin and just walk away?”
His eyes flicker with terror, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air on dry land. But no words come out—just pathetic little whimpers that feed the fires of my vengeance.
“Wrong move, asshole,” I say, the sharp edge of Flick promising retribution. “You signed your death warrant themoment you crossed me, and now it’s time to pay the piper, or in this case, the reaper.”
My guys line the walls, their gazes on me, and it only spurs me on.
“Eliza,” he gasps, but his plea is cut short as I drive the knife into his heart with surgical precision, twisting her viciously for maximum pain. His scream soothes the raging beast inside me.
Suddenly, I feel a presence behind me, warm and solid. James steps up, pressing his body close, his chest to my back. His hand covers mine, the one still gripping the hilt of Flick, buried deep in David’s chest. With a firm push, he increases the pressure, sinking the blade further.
The shared sensation of power rushes through us, an undercurrent of darkness that binds us. The thrill of the kill ignites something savage, a satisfaction that only those who live our brutal lives can understand.
“Fuck,” I mutter, feeling the wet warmth of David’s blood as it coats my hand, the life ebbing from his body with each passing second. It’s done. He’s done. The world of the Hughes family remains unchallenged, my dominion absolute.
“Good girl,” James whispers, as he steps back, a dark promise in his tone. His approval wraps around me like a shroud. I am every inch the heiress to the Hughes empire, my legacy written in blood and vengeance.
Blood drips from Flick’s blade, my breaths coming out ragged with exhilaration as I pull her out and stare at the gruesome scene she caused. I don’t have time to revel in the aftermath; Oliver’s strong arms wrap around me, pulling me against him.
“Eliza,” he says, voice thick with intensity. He spins me to face him and crashes his lips onto mine, consuming my mouth with a fierce urgency that matches the pounding of my heart. Hiskiss is a fire that fans the flames of the darkness swirling in my soul.
“Leave him to me,” Oliver mutters against my lips, eyes dark like the depths of the ocean during a storm. “I’ll handle the clean-up.”
I step back, still feeling the ghost of his kiss, and watch as Oliver moves towards David’s lifeless form. The pool of red spreading beneath the chair doesn’t faze him. He’s seen this before, done this before. We all have.
My lips curve into a slow, sinister smile. Power courses through me, an electric surge that reaffirms my position at the top.
Around us, the other guys’ gazes are riveted on me. They’ve seen the lengths I will go to protect what’s mine. They’ve felt the chilling touch of my wrath, and in their eyes, I find the reflection of my own power, a dark Queen among her Kings.
“We’ll all clean up this mess,” I say, stepping over the boundary of spilt blood.
“I’ve got it,” Oliver murmurs.
“Together,” I reply, staring at his kiss-swollen lips. “Always together.”
“Wanna keep the fingers?” Tarquin asks, making me snort with surprise.
“Huge pass, but thanks for asking.”
Raph comes up behind me and kisses my neck as he wraps his arms around me. “You areours, Eliza, whether you want to be or not. We will never let you go, even if you scream and beg. We are inescapable monsters who will do anything to keep our hold on you.”
Smiling slowly, I turn in his arms and look up at him. “Good thing I don’t plan on going anywhere then, isn’t it?”
“Perfect, little killer. Perfect.”
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