Page 27 of Lethal King

The blood is so thick it weighs down my hair like lead, practically blinding me. My suit is soaked through.

My rage is infinite.

I took the fucking bait—even if it wasn’t for the reasons Rozalia Dorn was hoping.

“Tell me that’s not human blood,” I hear Mel gag.

“It’s not,” Maksim is quick to assure us both. “If I had to guess, I’d say it’s pigs blood.”

“That hardly helps.”

Lifting my gun into the air, I fire. One shot. Two shots. Three. It doesn’t matter. Even through all the blood, I can sense that the shadow I saw hovering over the lawn just moments ago is gone.

“A fucking drone,” I curse. “They brought a blood-filled drone to my fucking coronation.”

The crimson liquid pools at my feet like molasses. Each step I take feels heavier than the last. This shit is humid and sticky. I’ll be cleaning it out of my hair for the next week.

“Well, at least you get to look like a hero in front of the Italians,” Maksim points out, trying to find a silver lining.

Looking back over my shoulder, I spot the cowering silhouettes of the women I just saved from this disgusting fate.

Some of them are openly weeping. A few look like they’re passed out. Others just stare blankly ahead, pristine white dresses fluttering like ghosts in the thinning smoke.

This is the first time I’m getting a good look at them. And even through the thinning smoke, it’s immediately apparent that not all of them are women. More than one are clearly just girls. Underage pawns dragged here by their greedy fathers.

Fucking barbarians.

“Is everyone alright?” I ask, wiping smoke away with my hand.

But that only reveals more of me to them, and I can’t imagine it’s a pleasant sight. It’s not like I’m the picture of holiness on a good day. Covered in blood, I must look like some demon that just crawled straight out of hell.

Hopefully, that will convince these girls to run far away from me—not that they have much choice in the matter.

“Don Kilpatrick! I saw everything. You saved our girls. Thank you! Thank you!”

Don Sabatino’s greasy voice is the last thing I want to hear right now. It slithers through the haze like a pitiful snake. That asshole is already on my shit list for his attempted stunt with that kitten.

“Where the fuck were you?” I snap, turning to him in all of my blood-soaked fury.

The chubby don flinches against my anger. “I… I… was trying to secure the perimeter,” he stumbles.

“And what about your daughter’s safety?” I ask, pointing back to the shaken group of girls. Blood drips from my outstretched finger.

I need a fucking shower.

“I… I thought they would be left alone. Surely you were in more danger than them.”

Even through the clearing fog, I can practically see the shit on his nose. The pathetic ass-kisser.

“Take your daughter home,” I spit, turning my back to him. “Everybody get the fuck out of here!”

At the sound of my roar, all the spineless guests still hiding in the bushes suddenly bolt upright, desperately scrambling over one another to act like they’re doing something now that the danger is over.

It only makes my hate all the stronger.

“Rian, are—” Mel starts to call to me, but before she can continue, I reach out and grab her wrist. We need to get out of here. “Hey, ow! That hurts.”

“Sorry,” I grumble, letting go of her. “Follow me. Maksim, you too. Gather information from the men. I want a full fucking diagnostic.”