Page 117 of Reaper’s Wrath

My muscles coil with the need to rip him to shreds. “That’s not weakness, motherfucker. Having a conscience is part of being human. You’re nothing but a soulless piece of shit.”

We’re fully in the hallway now, leaving my attack options limited.

I summon all my wrath and years’ worth of unfulfilled vengeance and channel it.

Senses alert. Body primed.

I charge with an animalistic roar. Stavros tries to fend me off with a knife, but I grab his wrist and twirl myself around until his arm is at an unnatural angle, then slam my other arm down. I’m rewarded by the crack of his forearm breaking in two.

He wails savagely but doesn’t fold.

Instead, he whirls and throws another knife at me. I flick it to the ground in mid-flight.

“You’ll have to do better than that, old man.” I could take out my knife and end this, but I don’t want to. I don’t want it to end that quickly. I want this shit excuse for a man to see death coming for him. I want him to know what it feels like to be helpless.

This time, instead of charging, I kick him in the crotch, and when he doubles over, I land an uppercut to his jaw that sends him flailing backward.

I slowly amble forward, towering over him.

“I used to dream about this,” I say, more to myself than anything.

Stavros rolls onto his uninjured side to hoist himself up. “I used to dream about Tessa’s little lips wrapped around my cock.” He spits a mouthful of blood onto the floor, shooting me a wicked glare from the side of his eyes.

Again, I know he’s egging me on, yet I can’t help myself. I don’t want her name on his filthy lips.

I unsheathe my straight combat blade from the back of my belt and charge forward, knocking him back to the ground. He used to grapple like a champ. Time has caught up with him. He’s no match for my weight, pinning him down.

“Suck on this, you sick fuck.” I spit in his eyes, and the second his mouth opens, I slam my knife down between his lips and into his throat all the way through to his spinal cord.

Death takes him in an instant.

The sound of my heaving breaths fills my ringing ears. I roll off him and sit with my back against the wall as I process that the two men responsible for derailing my life are now both dead. Their deception and pain and malice can no longer hurt me. I’m free.

I’m free, but so many others aren’t.

I realize that in my rage, I didn’t get him to tell me where the kids are taken.

Fucking hell.

My head drops back to rest against the wall, my gaze drifting up to the ceiling. I’m berating myself when I hear the door to the office suite quietly open.

“Kai?” I call out.

“Elio, you okay?” his frantic voice answers as his footsteps come running. When he rounds the corner, he freezes, taking in the scene. “Jesus, are you okay?”

“I am now, but I didn’t find out where they take the kids.”

“It was him, wasn’t it?” he asks gravely.

I nod. “They were trafficking the whole time, and we had no idea.”

Kairos walks over until he’s next to me and lowers himself to sit beside me. “We stopped them, though. That’s what counts.”

My head lolls to the side to look at him. “I’m not done hunting, Kai. I have to help the kids.”

“Then do that.”

“What about you and the business?”