Page 102 of Venomous Vows

“I didn’t.”

A mechanical chuckle forms in my chest as I straighten my spine, then throw a punch right into the side of his face. And once my knuckles collide with bone, I can’t stop.

I pepper punches and hear every single one of his agonized grunts.

It doesn’t stop a fucking thing.

He had my woman beaten and bruised under his order. His command could’ve seriously hurt her, killed her, or taken her out of my life for good because I wasn’t good enough to protect her.

It would’ve been both of our faults.

“Sir…Sir…Sir.” At the urgency of the male voice behind me, my body seizes and straightens. Warm blood coats my knuckles, but I don’t wipe them off. I own that shit like a fucking gladiator who’s ready to beat him to death with my bare hands.

I feel a body step to my side, but I don’t glance over. I watch Spencer writhe in pain on the couch where my men still hold him.

“Anything else, sir, that you need to get out of him? He won’t make it.”

I examine his body, blood seeping every which way, but it’s not good enough. He needs to suffer more.

I nod my acknowledgment to my man and he steps away, leaving me to do whatever it is I wish to do.

“Sir,” another voice mutters at my left and I sigh because, geezus Christ. “Miss Rossi—” I snap my neck over my shoulder and find Horace at my side. His burly stature has been with me for over a decade and he’s the elite among the men I have here today.

“What about her?”

“If you’d like to take this time to finish what you started, sir,” he states stoically. “You might want to do that now. Other pressing matters are present.”

Now what the fuck did she do?

Exhaling, Elena takes over my thoughts now for the millionth time and it pisses me off. Just a moment ago, I wanted to be here, ending this little piece of shit and enjoying myself while doing it.

But now she’s inside my head and I can’t get her out.

“Any last words, Mr. Halley?” I ask, steering my attention back to him. His chest heaves in uneven shudders and when he opens his mouth, I’m too busy lifting my gun and throwing a bullet in his head.

I asked, but I didn’t say I was going to hear it.

Spencer’s head lolls to the side. He’s dead before I spin on my heel and grant Horace his time.

“Where’s Elena?” I immediately demand, pinching my brows together.

“She’s not at the house, sir.”

I cock my head to the side because that’s where I specifically told my men to have her stay before I left. “Everyone better hope that she is.”

“No one saw her leave the house,” he explains. “We’ve searched high and low.”

“She’s not a fuckin’ghost,” I snap, squeezing the handle of my gun harder. “Where is my fuckin’ wife?!”

Horace raises his chin and lays it the fuck on me the way he always does.

Stone the fuck cold.

“I dunno, sir. Gone.”

34

ELENA

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