Page 95 of The Stallion
She was strong, I’ll give her that. Gripping onto my wrist and digging her fingers into my skin, the nails threatening to break through it at any given second. But the pain only fueled my hatred of her even further.
“You groped my husband.” I seethed, my eyes burning with the rage I felt building inside of me. “The chest and the face, I could live with, but I saw your slutty hand drift far lower and I don’t share my husband’s cock with anyone—period.”
“Oliver!” She screamed again as I pushed more of my weight into my hands, getting closer and closer to her flawless skin. I was more than ready to kill this bitch.
Her husband took a step toward us, and Dallas fired a warning shot in his direction.
“One more step and the next goes straight through your head. Enjoy the show, Oliver. My money is on my sweet girl.” My husband crooned, and I couldn’t help the sinister smile as I flicked my wild eyes to those of his before sending him a flirty wink and forcefully kneeing Bella in the stomach.
The move threw her attention off just enough for me to jam the sharp stem into her neck, pushing it deep, as far as it could go with a single drive.
As blood flowed freely from the wound, the glass nicking a major artery, Bella continued to struggle and fight against my weight. It only took a few additional seconds before her breathing slowed, and she eventually went limp beneath me.
I didn’t bother checking for a pulse; I’d stab her again just for good measure if I felt the absolute need for it.
“B-Bella…” Oliver audibly gasped from behind, and Dallas rolled his eyes, nearly forgetting he was still there.
“Alright, playtimes over… You and your wife fucked up, big time, and that’s all the explanation you’re going to get. You’ve lost all your chances in this life, how about we try not to fuck up the next.”
“You—”Bang!
My husband pulled the trigger, nailing Oliver right between the eyes.
His body collapsed to the floor like a pile of bricks, dead from a single, perfectly aimed bullet to the head.
I felt breathless and winded from the entire experience, feeling a high unlike any other as adrenaline coursed through my veins.
Turning my full attention back to Dallas, my lips parted; I tried to find the words to speak, but my mind had drawn a complete blank from exhilaration.
“My sweet, pretty, fucked up girl.” He praised, dropping the gun to the carpet as his hand lifted to caress the side of my face, his thumb lightly brushing against my cheekbone.
“Flattery will get you everything, Ponyboy.” I breathed with deep desire, releasing my hold on the stem and falling onto him, claiming my husband and his mouth.
This was the life.
Our fucked up version of it.
And I wanted nothing more.
Mr and Mrs Dallas fucking Ryan.
The End.
EPILOGUE: ALT POV
Dallas
Ihadminorconcernsfor Bria and this task.
Based on how she reacted to Emily right before her test, I knew she was prone to jealousy, which could potentially negatively affect her ability to complete our task.
The positive take was that her life wasn’t on the line if she had to suddenly leave the suite, unable to cope with the conditions. She wasn’t required to be in the room or the one pulling the trigger anymore.
This job would either be substantially difficult for her to handle—seeing me close with another woman—or increasingly easy, if she allowed for her territorial side to fuel her desire to kill instead of letting the surge of emotions take over and drive her to run instead.
Placing my palm lightly against her lower back, I ushered my sweet girl into the suite, entirely confident that she would make the right decisions once we were inside.
Although I had to admit, I didn’t account for them to separate us from the moment we’d entered.
