Page 139 of Brutal Revenge

She fires.

The bullet hits the dirt three feet in front of her.

Cranking her neck back, she winces. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Moving closer, I show her how to perfect her stance.

The next few minutes play out as good, if not better, as how I imagined when purchasing the gun.

“Try again.”

She fires again and misses.

“I’m terrible at this.”

“No, you’re not. You’re learning.”

She bites her lip, and that’s when I see it. The glint in her eyes and the way she holds the gun a little too comfortably announce that I’m being played.

“Maybe it’s not me. Maybe it’s the person teaching. If you can’t do, you teach, right?”

Her mouth twitches as she perfects her stance before she empties almost the entire magazine into the paper target.

Every single shot hits its mark.

Every. Single. One.

Except she didn’t aim for the man’s chest. She took out his dick, nuts, and half his fucking bowels.

With a sweet smile and one bullet in the chamber, Azra slowly pivots to face me.

She’s so fucking perfect that there’s no chance she’ll miss her target when she aims her gun at my crotch and her finger hugs the trigger.

I’m doomed, and I’ve never been fucking happier.

Chapter 45

Azra

Even with the safety on, I shouldn’t be pointing a gun at my husband. The magazine holds only one bullet, and I’ve angled the barrel slightly away from his crotch, but I still know this is wrong.

My intention is not to hurt Matteo. I just want to scare him a little.

Well, that’s the stupid, petty lie I’m telling myself.

Truth is, I want him to feel a fraction of the hurt I felt when Claude said he’d never seen him play in the orchard during the day.

A week ago, I was a virgin, but even I know what “play” stands for.

He didthatin the orchard.

With whom? I don’t know.

With how many? I don’t want to know.

My stomach twists at the thought of him being with anyone else. It’s senseless, but Matteo has had my head in such a whirlwind the past week that I completely forgot a world exists outside our bubble.

I hate this feeling. This ugly, burning, acidic jealousy that crawls up my throat and makes me want to scream. I can’t control it, and it makes me so irrational I want to hurt the one person I’m falling for.