Page 131 of Brutal Crown
Elio steps into the hall, perfectly composed as always. His black shirt is unwrinkled, and there’s not a single drop of sweat or worry on his skin. His eyes land on me, then flick to the guards behind me. His nostrils flare faintly.
“That’s enough,” he says coldly. “Let him go.”
I shove the man against the wall one more time before letting him go. They all scramble away.
“You’re making a scene.”
“I’ll make a goddamn massacre if I have to,” I snarl, prowling toward him. “It’s your fault she’s gone.”
His eyebrows pinch in slight confusion. “I didn’t order for her to be taken away.”
“She’s gone because ofyou!”
“You need to calm down.”
“Calm down?” I shove him.
His back hits the wall, but he doesn’t flinch. Anger crosses his eyes. “Stop acting irrational over some girl.”
His head snaps back as I punch him in the nose.
Without waiting for him to recover, I grab the collar of his shirt roughly.
“It’s not my fault you’re a cold bastard who has never cared about anything enough to fight for it. Not friends. Not family.”
Blood trickles down his nostrils. He glares at me, his jaw clenching.
“You’re nothing but a loyal dog,” I spit. “You sit when they say sit. Kill when they say kill. You don’t ask questions. You don’t feel.”
“You’re letting emotion compromise your judgment.”
“You let them take a pregnant woman without doing anything to intervene?—”
“I am not responsible for whatever happened to your lover!” he growls at me.
I stare at him for a long moment, resisting the urge to choke the life out of him.
Blowing out a tense breath, I release him with a hard shove. He grunts before straightening his shirt and smoothing the crease I made.
“You’re not thinking clearly,” he says. “Take a shower. Sleep. We’ll reconvene?—”
“I’ll reconvene with your corpse if you don’t shut the fuck up,” I say, stalking past him.
I move fast, heat rolling off me in waves. The rage burning in my veins is the only thing keeping me upright. My head is pounding, knuckles throbbing, and still, my legs carry me like I know exactly where I’m going. I need a next step. A hint.Something that could give me a clue to where exactly they took her.
Marco.
He knows something.
I burst into the lounge where he’s relaxed on the sofa, nursing a drink in one hand and scrolling through his phone in the other.
He doesn’t look surprised to see me.
“You,” I say, stalking toward him.
He glances at my blood-soaked body and raises an eyebrow. “Rough day?”
“Where is she?”
