Page 110 of Corrupt Princess

Jodie is distracted, following Stella and her attacker deeper into the suite with a dark look in her eyes that I’ve never seen before. A flash of light from her waist catches my attention and when I drop my eyes, I find she’s got her fingers wrapped around a flip knife.

What the actual fuck?

I know that the girls and Toby have been training her, but I think I might have underestimated just how easily she’s embraced the mafia blood that runs through her veins.

“You fucking cunt,” Emmie screams as her attacker manages to get the upper hand and trips her, forcing her onto her back.

Not that it stops her for long, and thankfully, the move distracts him enough for Rhea to be able to drag Calli from the floor.

But before they get very far, another dark figure fills the doorway. He stands there for a beat, assessing the carnage before him. I can only imagine that he wasn’t expecting to walk into a war zone being commanded by brutal female Cirillo Family members.

His eyes widen as he watches Emmie once again get the better of his buddy before he remembers what he’s meant to be doing and locks his gaze on Rhea and Calli’s retreating backs.

Lifting his hands, he cracks his knuckles and pulls a length of rope from his pocket, snapping it together menacingly.

His foot leaves the floor, and he begins stalking after them.

They’re both totally oblivious that they’re being stalked by some deranged killer, and I know that if I don’t do something, then I’m going to be forced to sit here while he achieves what I can only assume he was sent here for.

A savage roar rips through the room that I had no clue I was capable of until it hits my ears.

I lurch forward, needing to do something to stop him from getting his hands on either of them.

My fingers wrap around the empty champagne bottle still littering the coffee table, and I bring the neck of it down on the corner, shattering the glass and leaving me with a jagged edge.

I launch myself across the coffee table and onto the other sofa as the guy closes in on Rhea, standing slightly behind Calli. Just as he lifts his arm to reach for her, I bring my own arm up and plunge the sharp edge of the bottle right into the motherfucker’s neck.

He stills instantly as blood sprays from him, coating me in a heartbeat.

My stomach revolts as what I just did hits me.

In shock, the guy reaches back and stupidly pulls the bottle free. If I thought I was covered in his blood before, it’s nothing compared to what happens the second the glass leaves his body.

Fuck knows what I hit, but a river of fucking blood pours from the hole in the side of his neck.

He tries covering it with his hand, but it does nothing to stem the bleed. And after only a few seconds, he stumbles forward before colliding with the wall, covering it in blood before collapsing in a heap on the floor. And it’s only then that Rhea and Calli notice just how close to death they both came.

“Brianna,” Jodie screams. “Go and lock the door. NOW.”

I spin around in a complete daze but knowing that I need to follow her order just as Stella thrusts her own sparkling pink knife toward the guy still battling to overpower her.

The blade slices through his stomach as if it’s butter. Bile rushes up my throat as more blood is spilled around me and the guy roars in agony, staring at Stella’s manic grin in pure disbelief. I guess no one filled him in on the details of this job. Poor fucker probably thought he was in for an easy night being sent to what… abduct, kill, maybe, six helpless young women? Oh, how naïve.

“Now,” she starts, “are you going to admit defeat, or would you like me to continue?”

He stares at her from his bent-over position and his lips part to respond, but he doesn’t get a chance because Stella pulls her arm back and punches him so hard in the temple that he falls motionless and crashes to the floor.

“Em, you good?” she asks casually, shaking her hand out and checking in on her friends as Emmie and Jodie work together to restrain the other guy. Unlike his friends, he’s still alive and conscious, and he looks all kinds of confused as Emmie and Jodie tie him up as if he’s about to be roasted over an open fire.

“Door, Bri,” Jodie reminds me, her head nodding to where it’s still wide open.

Rushing over, I slam it shut and twist the lock.

Spinning around, I take in the carnage before me that I never noticed on my journey over here.

The room is destroyed. Pictures and artwork that were previously hanging on the walls are now shattered and twisted on the floor. Furniture is broken, the walls are covered in blood, and there are ornaments, glasses, lamps, and anything else that had been carefully placed throughout the living area now scattered everywhere.

“Holy shit,” I breathe, the weight of everything I witnessed over the last… however long pressing down on me.

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