Page 165 of Undisputed Chaos
"Better than good," I murmured, sliding the jade knife back into its sheath. "Perfect."
I swiped a baggy and crouched down in the pool of blood, picking up Noah’s severed digits and sliding the bloody pieces into my takeaway bag.
Each one would be devoured by my pets, and I’d watch gleefully as these fingertips that had tried to hurt my girl were ripped apart.
The oil diffuser hummed to life as we prepared to leave, masking the stench of death and retribution with something sweeter.
Noah Brown was nothing now—just a memory and a cautionary tale about what happened when someone tried to take what belonged to me.
Justice delivered. Threat eliminated. Angel protected.
The night was complete.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Adrian
Istepped inside my place just after 4 AM, the weight of the night's reckoning finally lifting from my shoulders like smoke dissipating in the wind.
The warehouse shower had washed away Noah's blood, the fresh clothes had replaced the tactical gear, but it was crossing this threshold, returning toher, that truly cleansed my soul.
The space welcomed me with familiar warmth.
My piranhas swam their eternal circles in their tank, the city sprawled endlessly beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, and there, curled on the massive leather sectional like a sleeping angel, was my entire world.
Isla lay exactly where I'd left her, wearing one of my oversized t-shirts that swallowed her delicate frame.
Her blonde hair spilled across the cushions like liquid gold, and even in sleep, one hand rested near her throat where the white ribbon still encircled her neck.
My mark. My claim. My promise of protection fulfilled.
Isla had one arm flung carelessly over her brother's face, her hand covering his nose in a way that couldn't possibly be comfortable.
Crew was snoring softly despite the obstruction, his limbs hanging off the edge of the couch.
"Fucking cute,” I whispered, something in my chest constricting at the sight.
The kid had done good, watched over his sister like the protector I'd known he could be.
But now it was my turn to take over, to reclaim my role as her protector and provider.
I approached the couch with silent steps, my body moving with the fluid grace of a predator who'd successfully defended his territory.
Kneeling beside Isla, I allowed myself a moment to simply observe her, the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the way her lips were slightly parted in sleep, the absolute trust radiating from her even in unconsciousness.
"That can't be comfortable, kid," I murmured, gently lifting Isla's arm off Crew's face.
The boy didn't stir, exhausted from the day's trauma and newfound thirst.
"Time to come to bed, angel.” I slid my arms beneath her with reverent care.
She stirred as I lifted her, her body melting against my chest with the perfect fit of puzzle pieces finding their places.
Her weight was nothing in my arms; she never had been, never would be. I was strong, I was built to cradle the softest of curves.
Every inch of her pressed against me felt like coming home after a war I'd been fighting my entire life.
The bedroom embraced us in shadows and silver moonlight streaming through the windows.
