Page 67 of Brutal Queen

Right now it’s all going up in flames—literally. Half of Rodrigues’ men are dead and the Costa whelp seems to be making short work of the reinforcements.

Standing, I sweep everything off my desk, sending my cut-glass decanter smashing to the floor. I’m storming out of my office and heading down to the basement before I know it.

In one fucking night, Aurora thinks she can destroy everything I’ve built. I don’t fucking think so. I’ve had enough of her meddling. It’s time she learned her place. Walking over to her cage, I can’t helpbut stroke my fingers along the bars. A shiver runs down my spine at the thought of having her back, locked in here, where she belongs.

My princess will pay for every insolence she has visited upon me.

Shaking myself out of my unproductive daydream, I head to the back of the room to dig out what I came down here to find. Flipping open the wooden chest in the corner, I root around until I pull it out, my face plastered with a victorious smile when I take in its beauty.

The first item I ever hurt her with. The first to ever mar her skin and bring out the beautiful bruises she wears so prettily. A gift from my father on our wedding day, though I waited a while to introduce her to it. Turning it over in my hand, I smile when I run my hands over the familiar inscription.

‘May your wrath make an obedient whore.’

“You obviously haven’t learned your lesson yet,principessa.” Pocketing the heavy steel knuckle duster, I take out my phone. I’m about to call in my remaining forces to storm her pathetic excuse for a compound she has the gall to run her organisation out of when it lights up with an incoming call.

Why the fuck is this twat calling me now? Whatever it is, it can’t be good.

“You better have a good reason for calling me on this number. You’re supposed to go through my capos.”

A panicked voice comes back at me with a garbled stream of indecipherable rambling being drowned out by the gunfire in the background. “Say that again,” I shout at him.

“No one else is answering. They’re here! They’re here and they’re destroying everything!”

My eyebrows lift. Whatever we thought they were up to tonight, there’s more coming and I’m kicking myself for underestimating her yet a-fucking-gain. “Tell me who,who’s there?”

“I don’t fucking know, but they’re about to breach the warehouse doors.”

I’m running up the stairs now, hightailing it back to my office. Coming around the desk, I throw my phone down and switch it to speaker, allowing me to flick through the surveillance, trying to find the one for this tiny little warehouse in the ass-end of nowhere.

When I finally find the right feed, I realise it’s not live. It’s one of the ones that takes pictures at thirty-second intervals. My fingers are banging on the keys, trying to flick through the most recent ones as fast as possible, and then I find it.

“There you are,principessa. I think it’s time you and I had a little reunion.”

My smile inches its way up my face, pulling so hard it makes my cheeks ache. The sound of more gunfire and the crashes of metal on metal pulls me out of my trance-like state, mesmerised by the woman standing, all guns blazing, in the frame.

“They’re inside. You got to send help,” comes a panicked whine down the phone line.

I honestly couldn’t give two shits if this man lives or dies, but I need him to at least hold her off until I get there.

“Sending now. Hold them the fuck off till I get there.” I don’t bother to wait for a response. I’m hanging up and calling for my remaining forces before I even reach my car. Calling out to the perimeter security teams, I pull them in too. We’re out the gate and in convoy in minutes.

Time to go retrieve what’s mine.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

AURORA

The sound of gunfire reverberating around the cavernous warehouse is painfully loud. We’ve got the meagre number of men pinned down in one of the laboratories to our right. We took out a few of their security on the way in, but I know that the ones on the perimeter will be here soon, so we need to get control of this room before they get here.

This can’t be it though, there should be a fuck ton more people on this site and we’ve yet to find them.

“We’re going to need to split up. You and Nico go high,” Sinclair shouts over the din, pointing at the catwalks above. “We’ll take the back rooms and flush them out to you.”

“Keep your comms open,” I call back before nodding and signalling to Nico for him to follow. He takes my six, laying down cover fire while I cross the open floor to the stairs to my left. We’re thundering up the metal stairs and in position when Sinclair, Enzo, and Benny make their move.

I can hear them planning their movements over the comms devices in my right ear while their footfalls echo throughout the open warehouse below. The layout is split between a covered area, divided into multiple rooms and laboratories and then a large open space towards the back where the loading bays are. There are also doors along the right hand side, presumably leading to sleeping quarters and offices. It would make sense to keep several rotating teams of security on shift here for protection. Especially with the volume of product they appear to be shipping through here. If I wasn’t so disgusted, I’d be impressed with the organisation of it.

There’s no place for drugs in the Bianchi family. They make those that sell them greedy, and those that take them weak.

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