Page 78 of Sexted By a Stranger
Several gunshots. The guards outside the club who had been leaning against walls smoking and chatting immediately collapsed. The smell of blood quietly spread.
Expressionless, I stepped over one of the bodies still twitching, my shoe sole pressing into the warm pool of blood with a sticky squelch.
Right now, the bastard who took her was behind this door.
I turned sideways, twisted my waist, channeling all my strength into my leg.
A deafening crash as the door, along with its fragile frame, exploded inward.
Inside was suffocating silence and endless chaos.
The massive dance floor that could hold hundreds of revelers now stood empty as a cold tomb, laser lights casting eerily shifting patterns of color.
In the very center of the dance floor, where flickering lights converged, a lone figure stood there, as if waiting for a long time.
Connor.
His hair was slicked back perfectly, a smug smile playing at the corners of his mouth, utterly revolting.
"Bravo! Look who it is! Our esteemed Luca Bellomo. Faster than I expected. Seems—" he dragged out the words, "our stellina weighs much heavier in your heart than I imagined."
"Where's Sheila?" I had no patience for his bullshit and cut straight to the point.
Connor chuckled softly. "What's the rush? We have plenty to discuss. Like our last business deal."
I glanced up—several gunmen in the second-floor boxes, all aiming down.
Connor had certainly prepared well.
"She's safe, for now." Connor's smile turned sinister. "But how long she stays safe depends on how obedient you are next."
Just then, my earpiece crackled with the sniper's voice. "Boss, six targets in the second-floor boxes. Can fire at any time."
I shook my head slightly, signaling them to hold. I needed to confirm Sheila's location first.
Connor's cocky attitude made my stomach churn.
"I want to see her." I stared him down. "I need to see with my own eyes that she's unharmed. Otherwise, there's nothing to discuss."
Sheila
The sudden thunderous crash shattered the darkness and jolted me awake.
Then came several muffled, sharp "pops," like heavy objects hitting sandbags. Followed by the dull thuds of bodies hitting the ground, mixed with vague roars.
It was Luca.
He came.
I gripped the paper knife tighter in my sleeve, the sharp pain keeping me alert.
My knuckles cracked softly from the excessive force.
I closed my eyes, forcing myself to take deep breaths, trying to suppress the metallic taste rising in my throat and the violent trembling. Deep in my abdomen, I felt an incredibly faint flutter—was it my imagination? Or was that tiny life also sensing the thunder that tore through the darkness, brought by its father?
Powerful strength flooded my body, which had nearly been crushed by fear and despair.
Sheila, you can do this. You can't fall now.
