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I smiled. This brutal enforcer was falling in love with me. I was sure of it. Time to test the waters.
"Ya know," I started, twirling a loose strand of hair around my finger, "I've always wanted a puppy."
"Fuckin' puppy?" He grunted, leaning back, the leather of the booth squeaking under his weight.
"Yeah, a little ball of fluff to love unconditionally."
He scoffed, but there was no missing the softening in his gaze. "Fine. We can get a fucking puppy. What kind do you want?"
"I dunno. A cute one."
"Fine."
"Is that a yes?" I challenged.
"Dammit, yes." His face held the semblance of a smile. "We can get a puppy when all this shit is done."
As we paid and got ready to go, I grabbed his hand. "Just... give me another second to pretend that we are a normal couple, doing normal couple things." He waited, shuffling his feet before sighing.
"Ready to end this shit?"
I nodded. "Now I am." My hands trembled slightly, but not from fear. From certainty. From the need for vengeance that coursed through me.
We stood up, his chair scraping roughly against the worn floor. I glanced around at the other diners, their laughter and chatter loud.
"Let's go." His command was terse, every muscle in his body taut with anticipation. As he tossed a wad of cash onto the table, I grimaced. No matter how badly I wanted to stay in this moment. I had to leave it, to secure more like these.
Stepping out into the night, Chris fumbled around in his pocket for the key to the sedan.
"Back to the mansion," he muttered.
"Back to hell," I corrected.
"Fuck yeah, back to hell." A smirk played on his lips and for a moment, I saw the glint of the predator within him, the asshole who had once been my enemy.
Our footsteps echoed in the quiet as we walked, the sound a drumbeat to our impending war. With each step, I shed the remnants of the girl I once was, ready to embrace the fire that Chris had ignited in my soul.
"Once this is done," I whispered, more to myself than to him, "we're free."
"Free to chase those goddamn dreams of yours," he replied, his voice rough. "And get that fuckin' puppy."
Nineteen: Chris
The mansion loomed like a goddamn fortress. Priscilla's goons patrolled the courtyard. Ella's grip on my arm tightened, the only telltale sign of nerves she'd allowed herself. The plan had changed on the drive here. Ella wanted in on the bloodshed. I was only too happy to oblige. My cock twitched at the thought of my pretty princess caked in the blood of our enemies.
"Shit, Chris, there's more than we thought," she murmured, eyes scanning the perimeter.
"More fun for us," I grunted back, scanning for weak links in the chain of guards.
We crept closer. The first guard—a beefy prick with more brawn than brain—didn't even see it coming. My hand clamped over his mouth as my other drove the knife up under his ribcage. Once, twice, three times. A wet gurgle, a spasmodic jerk, and he slumped, another piece of trash in the night.
"Fuck," Ella whispered, but her eyes burned fierce, not a damsel but a fucking warrior queen. "That was hot."
"Oh, I'm just getting started, little ember," I said, a touch of pride warming my blood for this girl who didn't break.
We picked our way through the maze of patrolling muscle, each take-down all snapping bones and stifled cries. My hands were slick, my veins pumping liquid fire.
"Next one's yours," I told Ella, nodding toward a guard too busy fondling his crotch and dreaming of pussy he'd never get. I handed her the knife, wanting to see if she would take it.
