Page 142 of Cinder
“The Moretti are thriving under my control.”
“If you believe that, then heaven help all of us,” I say, taking another step back until my butt hits the table. I reach behind me. “But not you, Luca. You can go to hell.”
I grab the ashtray and slam it into his head. But at the last moment, he raises his arm and is able to shield his head from the blow.
It was a long shot.
But worth a try.
Because I’m not going down without a fight.
Snarling, Luca grabs my throat and forces me against the wall, and I drop the ashtray.
“You might think you’re smarter, but I’m physically far superior,” he seethes.
His fingers tighten around my throat, cutting off my air.
Our eyes fused, I can see the hatred in his. But I won’t look away.
Let him know I never looked away in fear.
But he lets me go, and I can suddenly breathe again.
“Killing you would be too easy for you. Let Viktor have his way?—”
The doorbell cuts him off.
We both swing our heads in the direction of the door.
Usually, one of his guards would appear and open it, because heaven forbid Luca do something so menial as answering adoor. But when no one comes, he impatiently stalks across the foyer to the front door and opens it.
There is no one on the other side.
Not even one of his men.
Which is odd, because I know there are many of them crawling around outside.
But there is a box sitting on the doorstep.
“Oh, a present,” he says, picking it up.
This is why Luca isn’t going to live long. I mean, I’m eventually going to kill him. But if I didn’t, this behavior right here is why he is not long for this Earth.
I hope it’s a bomb and it blows your face into a million pieces.
But he’s too ignorant and reckless to even consider anyone could get through his army of men who patrol the grounds. He’s so entitled, he can’t see past his own privileges and relies too much on others keeping him alive.
He lifts the box and rattles it about, and I can hear there is something heavy inside.
I take a cautionary step backward. If it is a bomb, it will probably take me out too.
Oblivious to the danger, Luca swings the door closed and begins to walk back toward me carrying hispresent,but stops when the first drop of blood splashes against his feet.
He frowns and places the box on the floor to rip it open. “What in the—oh, my God.”
He rears back, his mouth twisted in horror. His face drains of color, and he shoves his hand into his mouth to stop himself from vomiting.
I step forward to peer inside the box.
