Page 114 of Adam
Two down.
“One, two, guess who’s coming for you.” I sneer.
“You fucking cockroach!” he roars, voice cracking.
There it is. Finally, something worth playing with.
The knife’s up, then down, and two more hit the floor with a dull, wet thud.
“Three, four, don’t run anymore.”
“Ple-ease …” he sobs. “Please!”
Funny thing about pain. It’s louder when it’s earned. It sounds orchestral when they deserve it.
And he … Oh, he’s got a symphony coming.
“Why did you want to meet her?” I ask.
“M-Meet who?”
I drive my fist through his face, feeling some of his teeth breaking. “Focus on my lips,” I hiss, dragging the end of the words a little more. “Isabella Calvano.”
Dazed, his vision wavers before he forces a deeper breath, trying to gather what’s left of his composure.
“She’s …” he breathes weakly, his eyes drifting without control. “She’s just an item up for bidding.”
What did he just say?
In an instant, everything in me goes still. I’m barely holding it together.
He says it like she’s property.
Like she’s fucking his.
“Say that again.”
My voice comes out low and sharp. I’m already slipping. My heart is pounding, yet my breath is steady.
He coughs, blood gurgling up his throat, and then the bastard smirks.
So fucking proud of it. Cocky little shit.
“She’s just?—”
I move before he finishes the word.
My fist hits bone, and it gives a sickening crunch, making his head snap to the side. I don’t wait. I grab him by the collar and slam him back.
“You fucking shit-face!” I roar, losing my grip on patience.
I drive my fist into his mouth.
“She’s not a fucking item.”
And again.
“Not yours.”
