Page 132 of Destined for the Devil
At this moment it dawned on me that Sergei wasactuallyrisking his life. He wasn't sure if he would come out of there alive. Fuck. Obviously, I had no way to imagine what would happen, but Sergei had no illusions about what we were doing.
"I understand." I noddedand assured him.
"Okay.” He agreed and placed a cross on himself with his fingers. “With God."
At this, all the men exited the car and headed into the darkness, rounding the corner of the church and disappearing from view.
There were zero guarantees tonight—I had no idea if I was going to see Roman or if I would still have my life.
Alone, in total darkness, I relaxed. I was on the precipice of something sinister and life-changing. I felt it. And something ugly reared its head inside me.
Thirst for revenge.
I wasn’t angry anymore. I was just broken. My father decided to partner with a man who was destroying my life, and I had a chance to finally end him. I didn’t want to leave that chance up to fate—Iwanted to do it.
Like Sergei instructed, I turned the car around and, without much thought, grabbed the handgun he left me and stepped out. I rounded the corner of the old stone building just like I watched Sergei do a few minutes ago and set off toward a grand estate that caught my eye immediately.
It stood in the middle of a clearing, and right behind it were the green hills and tall hedges that I looked out on while trapped inside. What a beautiful and ill-omened mansion.
Everything was amplified tonight. The wind lashed against my cheeks like John’s whip. The handgun added a delectable weight. My feet pounded the soft earth, connecting me to something bigger, something way more important than I was.
My fate. My destiny.
I wasalive. The closer I approached, the more pronounced it all became. Gunshots, men’s shouts, and a flicker of lights. My heart thudded faster, and my legs picked up speed.
My vision was crystal clear—the front door was open, and inside the illuminated interiors was John, standing in the middle of the hallway. Alone.
I was in a trance; there was nothing else, just him…as if waiting for me. So I walked right in, and his eyes darted to me, widening in shock for a mere second.
“Oh, Isla. You couldn’t let your man go, coul—”
“Shut the fuck up!” The words flew out of me, cutting off the hushed Russian speech somewhere around. I had no idea who was there—I didn’t fucking care.
Just like Sergei taught me a few hours ago, I pointed my gun at John. “Get on your knees,” I commanded, my voice loud, clear, and absolute like never before.
But John looked me over like a doting father again, unable to let the act go. “Are you going to shoot me, dear?” he whispered, talking to me like I was a child.
That’s fucking right.
I pressed the trigger just as I was taught, aiming right at his knee. The effect was immediate—John collapsed onto his knees, desperately clutching at his thigh where the bullet shattered him. “Argh!” He let out an animalistic sound, his whole body contorting in pain.
It was jarring. I’d just fucking shot him!
But it wasn’t enough to stop me.
Helocked me up.Hemutilated my back.Hehumiliated me and drove me insane in isolation. He played me like a pawn! He was going to kill the love of my life, and I would fucking burn the world down before I let that happen! Roman may have killed my parents, but he wasmy devil.
But John…John deserved to burn in hell. John deserved to feel the pain for all his actions.
"Isla…” John choked out, looking me over in shock. “You're not like Ro—" he struggled to get the words out, but I wasn't going to fucking listen to him!
"I'm not, John. I'm like my father.” I could smile kindly too! “You can't fight the blood that runs in your veins, can you, John?" I took a step closer, pressing the barrel of the gun right to his forehead.
Every single nerve ending was screaming in agony, screaming at me not to do this, but I’d never felt more in control and more confident than with a gun in my hand and John at mymercy.
His hands shook around his injury as he stood on his knees, huffing, his eyes looking into mine, pleading, begging, asking for compassion.
But tonight…I had none left.
