Page 29 of Princess of Vengeance

The first guy takes advantage of my split-second distraction, driving his knee into my stomach. The hit knocks the wind out of me, but I manage to slam him into the wall with a satisfying thud.

But there’s already another one on me.

The second attacker catches me from behind and wraps his arm around my throat. I throw my weight forward, trying to flip him over my shoulder, but the first guy is there again. A fist connects with my jaw, snapping my head to the side.

“Fuck!” The curse tears from my throat as I fight to stay on my feet. Two against one in this narrow hallway is bad fucking odds, but I’ve had worse.

I hear gunfire from somewhere in the house, and I hope it’s a good sign. I hope it means my warning got through, and theothers are fighting back. I just need to hold these fuckers off long enough for Quinn, Nico, and Killian to get clear.

The thought gives me a surge of energy, and I manage to break the chokehold. My elbow flies back, catching one of them in the face. But before I can press the advantage, something slams into my temple.

White-hot pain explodes through my skull as the butt of a rifle connects. The world tilts sideways, and my knees buckle. I try to catch myself, but my arms won’t cooperate. Everything goes fuzzy around the edges.

“Got you now, fucker,” one of them growls.

Hands grab my wrists, yanking them behind my back. The sharp bite of zip ties digs into my skin as they cinch them tight enough to cut off circulation.

Blood is trickling down the side of my face as I try to fight back, to twist away from their grip, but the hit to my head has fucked up my equilibrium. The room spins every time I move. All I can do is hope that my warning gave the others enough time to get the upper hand or get out completely.

They drag me into the living room, and my stomach drops straight through the floor. The scene in front of me is every nightmare I’ve ever had, come to life in vivid fucking detail.

Killian is on my right, zip tied like me but still fighting like a rabid animal against the three men holding him down. His face is bloody, and there’s murder in his eyes. One of Malcolm’s men shoves a gun against his temple.

“Move another fucking muscle, and I’ll paint the wall with your brains.”

Killian goes still, but his chest is heaving, and I can practically feel the rage radiating off him. The look in his eyes promises a slow, painful death to every intruder in this room.

Nico is already on his knees a few feet away, with his hands bound behind his back. There’s a split in his lip and thebeginning of what’s going to be one hell of a black eye, but he’s not fighting anymore. Not yet, anyway. If I know him, he’s watching and waiting, looking for any opening he can use.

The men holding me force me down beside my brothers, and that’s when Malcolm steps out of the shadows like the fucking theatrical asshole he is. His calculating gaze moves over us one by one, like he’s deciding which one to gut first.

But none of that matters when I see Quinn.

She’s being held at gunpoint by one of Malcolm’s lackeys, and my heart fucking stops. She’s favoring her left side—the healing stab wounds must’ve gotten banged up a bit in the fight. But she’s standing tall with her chin raised and that familiar spark of defiance in her eyes, even with a gun pressed to her head.

Seeing her like this, captured and hurt and in danger… it’s worse than any torture Ambrose put me through. At least then, the pain was just physical. This? This is watching my whole world balance on a knife’s edge, knowing that one wrong move, one pulled trigger, and it will all come crashing down.

A cold smile spreads across Malcolm’s face as he looks at each of us in turn. “Well,” he says, straightening his perfectly pressed suit jacket. “Isn’t this a pleasant reunion? I would say it’s good to see each of you here, but I think we all know better.”

He turns his attention to Quinn and adjusts his cuffs like we’re at a business meeting instead of a fucking hostage situation, “You see, the last time we met, I made the mistake of underestimating how loyal your attack dogs could be.” His cold eyes flick over me and my brothers. “I won’t make that mistake twice. Hence the restraints.”

My wrists ache where the zip ties are cutting into them, but the pain just feeds my rage. Next to me, I can feel Killian vibrating with the same helpless fury. The guard behind himseems to dig the gun harder against his skull, like he knows exactly how close Killian is to snapping.

“The rest of the Syndicate is still searching,” Malcolm continues. “They’re busy tearing apart your old territories, checking every safehouse they know about.” His smile widens. “But I found you first.”

“Let me guess.” Nico speaks up from beside me. “You wanted to finish the job yourself? Wanted to get your hands dirty for once instead of letting others do your killing?”

Malcolm actually laughs at that, making my jaw clench involuntarily. “Oh, no. I didn’t come here to kill.” He straightens his tie, taking his time like he’s savoring the moment. “I came to offer a deal.”

A deal? From the man who ordered Quinn’s execution? Who had her chained to a wall and stabbed? My hands curl into fists behind my back, and I have to fight the urge to launch myself at him, zip ties or no zip ties.

“Go fuck yourself.” I spit in his direction, satisfaction flaring through me when a bit of bloody saliva lands on his polished shoes. “We’re not making any deals with a shit stain like you.”

Malcolm’s face hardens as he looks down at his shoe, his mask of civility cracking just enough to show the monster underneath. When he raises his eyes again, that shark-like coldness is back, but there’s something else there too. Something almost like amusement.

“You misunderstand me. I’m not offering the deal to you.”

The words take a second to sink in. Next to me, I feel both my brothers go still as the meaning hits them as well.

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