Page 160 of Monsters Wear Crowns
“You little fucking bitch–” I drove the blade up into the first man’s throat. The moment his blood sprayed across my hand, chaos erupted.
He gurgled, hands flying to his neck as he collapsed against the seat, his life spilling in warm, wet gushes down his chest. The second man lunged for me–I twisted, the blade flashing through the air as I carved a deep gash across his face. He howled, clutching his ruined cheek, but I didn’t stop. I slammed my knee into his stomach, knocking him back.
The third man reached for his gun.
Too slow.
I lunged forward, plunging the knife into his ribs and twisting. His breath hitched, the air leaving his lungs in a shuddering gasp. He slumped, eyes rolling back, dead before his body even hit the floor of the limo.
The fourth man–the driver–was still gripping the wheel, his knuckles white. I could see the rise and fall of his chest, the way it stuttered with panic. Slowly, I turned to him, blood dripping from my fingers, staining the leather seats.
“Call Moreau,” I ordered, my voice sharp as steel.
He didn’t move.
I pressed the bloodied knife against his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Now.”
With shaking hands, he fumbled for his phone. The line rang twice before a familiar voice answered, smooth, amused.
“McKinney? Why are you calling me? What do you want?”
“It’s Adela.”
A long pause on the other end.“Well, well. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
I tightened my grip on the blade. My heart pounded, rage curling hot in my gut. “You tell me,” I snapped. “Since your men just tried to drag me off the street. But it’s fine, considering I just killed them all.”
Silence.
Then–laughter.
Not the kind that meant amusement.
The kind that meant he wasn’t surprised.
“Oh, Miss Sinclair…I didn’t order an attack.”
My fingers clenched around the hilt of the knife. “Bullshit.”
“No, truly,”Moreau mused.“It seems I had a few untamed dogs in my yard. And you? You just took them out for me. I should thank you.”
My stomach twisted. I didn’t trust him. “You’re telling me you hadnoidea about this?” I asked coldly.
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”He sighed.“Consider this a lesson, Adela. You’re caught between men like me and men like Vaughan. Next time? The ones coming for you will indeed be sent by me. And they won’t be so easily handled. These ones were fucking puppies compared to what I have in my arsenal.”
Then–the line went dead.
The driver swallowed hard, his knuckles bone-white against the steering wheel. Sweat beaded at his temple as he kept his gaze forward, refusing to look in the rearview mirror. Like if he didn’t see what happened in the backseat, he couldn’t be held responsible. “I’ll let you go,” he whispered hoarsely. “I swear, I’ll let you go.” The car began to slow, and for a split second, I held my breath.
But then–
The passenger door wasrippedopen with such force it buckled on its hinges. Metal groaned. The entire limo rocked fromthe impact. A flash of black fabric. Broad shoulders. Murderous, ice-cold eyes.
Rafe exploded into the vehicle like a goddamn storm. The overhead light caught on the sharp cut of his jaw, the fury in his eyes colder than any winter wind. His presence sucked the air from the car, filled every inch of space with a wildness that felt entirely unhinged. He stood there, barely breathing, gaze sweeping over the bloodied mess I had left in my wake. His face was filled with rage, yet satisfaction flickered beneath the surface. The driver barely had time to react before his hand shot out, gripping him by the throat and yanking him out of the limo.
A scream.
Then, a sickeningcrack.
