Page 112 of Ruthless Vengeance
“I’ve thought it through plenty.”
Cillian chuckles, taking another long drag of his cigarette.
“Yeever think about what happens toyerprecious little family whileye’reout playing the hero?Yerbrother and that sweet little girl ofyers… Clara.”
My jaw clenches at the mention of her name.
Cillian lifts a brow, no doubt noticing my body stiffening.
“How much doyereally trust that they’re safe?”
There’s a wicked gleam in his gray eyes, but I don’t falter.
My gun remains aimed right between his eyes as his words hang in the air between us.
He’s bluffing.
He has to be.
But then again, this is Cillian Moore. He would no doubt have planned for the fact that I might double cross him, which means he would likely have eyes on Clara and Andre right now, with men waiting for the order to pull the trigger if I dared to step out of line.
Fuck.
Despite my fears, I don’t let them show on my face.
I gesture at him with my gun. “Stand up.”
Cillian grinds out his cigarette on the red tabletop and finally rises, his movements slow and deliberate. He’s stalling, but I’m done waiting.
I shift my aim and shoot, landing one bullet on his left thigh and one on his right.
He drops like dead weight, howling as blood pours from the wounds.
Before he can even catch his breath to scream a second time, I cross the room and slam my boot into his stomach
Cillian chokes on a breath, his huge body folding inwards at the impact.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t see through your bullshit?” I pocket my gun before kicking him again. “You think this was about money? About territory?”
Another kick followed by a grunt of pain.
“It’s about the girls you sell to appease your little friends in the hopes of gaining power.”
Cillian coughs up blood, spitting it on my boots, before looking up at me with cold fury in his eyes.
“Such big words…from a man…who plays god…just like me.”
I kneel down on the floor beside him and curl my fingers into the collar of his shirt, his blood soaking into the material of my pants.
“But at least I know to choose players who know the game and want to play.” I slam my head into his nose.
The satisfying crunch of bone breaking has my lips pulling up into a smile, but I’m far from done.
I release my hold on Cillian before curling my hand into a fist and slamming it into his face, fracturing his cheekbone.
Cillian barely has a chance to catch a breath before I punch him again, even harder.
I don’t stop until his head rolls back, and his eyes flutter shut as he fights consciousness.
