Page 192 of Adam
I stare at him, and all I can think about is how I’m going to kill him.
I keep my face blank, because he loves reactions, and I’m not giving him that satisfaction. Inside my head, I’m already mapping the room, counting bodies, angles, counting how many rounds I can fire before this turns into a full bloodbath. I can feel the gun on my thigh, and it’s the only thing keeping me from moving right now.
He cut Wes apart just to make a point. He dragged him in here like damaged property. That makes me want to dump round after round into his gut and watch him choke on his ownblood while he tries to hold his insides in on his own expensive floor.
“His life for yours,” he says, tilting his head. He drags his tongue across his teeth and stares straight at her. “Having you back is not a prize. You’re fucking disgusting to me.”
Isabella’s breathing turns fast and uneven. He stands up, supported by his stupid cane, and walks closer.
“That whore fucked my brother and had you. She should’ve killed you the moment you came out,” he hisses, lips shaking from anger. “Your mother’s pathetic life meant nothing. Keeping her alive right next to me was better than killing her, because I got to watch her suffer every single fucking day.”
He points at Isabella’s face. “You walking around withmyname,mymoney,mypower made me look weak. I had to pretend to give a shit while you existed under my roof. My status demanded the perfect family. But I wanted you dead every day you kept breathing.”
He laughs under his breath and takes a step closer.
“Men like Anderson were always around. I just decided to use it. I waited. I let you grow up. Then I planned to sell you off, get paid, and be done with you for good. Easy money. Clean ending.”
He leans closer, voice turning harsher.
“I just needed to follow the rules and keep you pure.”
Ah … Rules …
They were never made for me. But right now, I need to play by them.
“You can kill him,” I say apathetically.
Wes’s chest heaves harder, his eyes locking on me, hurt and disbelief crashing over his face. I hold his stare, unblinking.
“He’s a lost cause, anyway,” I continue.
“Nice. Really appreciate the loyalty,” Wes jeers with a bright, yet fake smile.
Isabella suddenly snaps forward and rips the gun from my thigh holster. She swings it up and jams it right at her father’s face, ready to blow his skull apart and paint the walls with him.
Every bastard in his crew jerks their weapons up at her at the same time. Cain and Judas tense up beside me, but they hold position and don’t try harder to break free.
“I don’t know why you think you still have the upper hand,” Calvano exhales, bored and irritated. “You’re pointing a gun because it’s the only way anyone here takes you seriously, and even then, it’s barely working.”
“Let him go,” she growls. “You want me. Your broken little daughter, ready to be sold.”
I roll my eyes, already pissed off and done with this shit. “Shoot him,” I bark at Calvano’s men.
“No!” Isabella shouts.
Wes’s eyes lock on mine, and he understands it without either of us saying a damn word. I give him the smallest nod.
“Shoot me,” he hisses, jaw tight, staring straight down the barrels aimed at him.
“Wes, no!”
“Don’t listen to her,” he growls, eyes cutting across every one of them. “Stop acting like scared little bitches and fucking shoot me.”
Isabella, defiant as hell, pulls the trigger on her own fucking father. The bullet slams into his shoulder, and the sound alone is enough to make something satisfied twist in my chest.
Blood sprays around. He staggers, and for a second, the whole room freezes. I bet nobody expected her to actually do it.
Then his men open fire together, a wall of gunshots aimed at Wes, at her, at all of us.
