Page 95 of Monsters Wear Crowns
Vincent’s throat worked. “It’s not–he said–he offered–”
“Don’t,” Rafe cut him off, his voice vibrating with fury. “Don’t youdaremake excuses.”
I wanted to scream. Wanted toshoot,but there were too many men, and they were closing in fast.
“You should’ve killed me when you had the chance,” Rafe said, his voice deadly calm.
“I know,” Vincent whispered.
My heart clenched at the expression on Rafe’s face.
And then Moreau’s men struck.
The fight was a blur of noise and motion, gunfire cracking through the air, the scent of blood and smoke rising fast. I fired without thinking, my hands steady even as my heart pounded like a war drum. Rafe was pure violence beside me, his movements fast and merciless, every shot hitting precisely where he intended.
But we were outnumbered.
“Get out of here!” Rafe barked, his hand finding my wrist. I didn’t argue when I saw how many of them kept coming. We moved toward the back exit, Rafe firing as we went, but then the gunfire stopped.
A silence fell.
It was worse than the noise.
“Drop your weapons,” a voice called out, smooth, cold, and so familiar that my stomach turned.
My blood went cold. I turned slowly, my gun still raised, and froze. Vincent stood near the center of the room, his hands up, his face pale. And behind him, Moreau. Tall, sharp-featured, and smiling. He held a gun, the barrel resting against the side of Vincent’s head.
“Drop it,” Moreau said, his eyes on Rafe. “Or your little friend here dies.”
Rafe didn’t move. He didn’t lower his gun. “You’re a fool if you think I care,” he said, his voice soft, deadly. “He clearly made his fucking choice.”
Vincent flinched.
“Rafe,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
“See?” Moreau’s grin widened. “Thisis what loyalty to Vaughan gets you.Nothing. You were right to take my offer, Vincent.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Rafe growled.
Moreau ignored him, turning his attention to me. And when his eyes met mine, I felt that sick chill slither down my spine.
“You look tired, Miss Sinclair,” he said, his voice almost gentle. “You should really reconsider your company. Rafe’s world…it’s going to kill you.”
“I’m not dead yet, bitch,” I snapped.
His eyes glinted with amusement. “No…not yet. But soon.”
The gun in his hand shifted slightly, just enough to make my stomach plummet. “Honestly, I don’t need you, Vincent.”
My heart pounded. I couldn’t breathe. Vincent spun toward him, his eyes widening in shock and fear.
“Anyloyaltythat can be so easily bought is not worth a chance.”
“No!” I started forward, but Rafe’s grip on my arm was iron.
Moreau smiled. And pulled the trigger. The sound of the shot rang through the room. Vincent dropped like a marionette with its strings cut, blood blooming dark and fast across his chest, soaking into his shirt as his eyes went wide with shock–and thenempty.
For a moment, time shattered. There was no sound. No movement. Just the hollow thud of his body hitting the floor and the gaping hole it left in us.
