Page 267 of Blackwood

“I will take every piece you’ve got buried in that twisted little head of yours. Rip it out. Break it in front of them. Make them watch while I make you beg.”

Still, no reaction. His hand dips lower, hovering just above the waistband of her leggings.

“You want to play dead? Fine. I’ll fuck the life back into you.”

Bella slams her head backward into his face. The crack of bone-on-bone echoes through the apartment. Laing stumbles, blood gushing through his teeth. Bella spins on him, eyes wild, chest heaving, fists already cocked.

He grins through the blood. “Finally.”

All hell breaks loose. Bella lunges with no hesitation, no strategy. Just rage. Pure, savage rage. She drives her fist into his jaw so hard his head snaps sideways. He absorbs it, laughs, and swings back, but she’s faster. Duck. Jab. Hook. Another punch to the gut.

Laing grunts, stumbling again. Wipes the blood from his mouth, still grinning.

“C’mon, Iz. Hit me harder. Show the room who you really are.”

She doesn’t answer. Just steps in and drives her knee into his ribs. Again. And again. He collapses to one knee, gasping. This isn’t a spar anymore, it’s a purge. She’s exorcising something, bleeding it out through her fists.

Laing grabs her leg, pulls her off balance, and slams her to the floor. The whole apartment shakes. He scrambles on top, forearm pressed to her chest.

“What do you think your little boytoys over there will think of you,” Laing growls, “after they watch me—”

She drives her elbow into his face. Blood sprays. She rolls them, slamming him into the ground. Climbs on top, one hand wraps around his throat, the other slams down into his ribs, once, twice, three times.

Laing doesn’t even fight back now. He’s not defending. He’s taking it. He got what he wanted. He pulled her back from the darkness. And now… he’s just letting her empty the rest.

Bella’s hand tightens around his throat. Her teeth are bared, eyes wild and burning. She leans down, voice shaking with fury. “Touch me again, Laing” she whispers, deadly calm. “And I’ll snap your windpipe and watch you die smiling.”

Laing coughs, blood bubbling at his lips, but he doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t move. Just… smiles. Like this was his sick and twisted master plan all along.

Roman takes a slow step forward. “Isabella.”

She doesn’t look at him. Her hand still tightly locked around Laing’s throat.

“This isn’t the fight that matters.”

Still nothing. Laing’s face is starting to turn red.

“Let him go,” Roman says, softer now. “Don’t give him the power to pull you under.”

Her fingers twitch.

“You’ve already survived worse, daughter.”

And for just a second, her hands loosen. Not much. But enough to know she heard him.

Knox steps forward. Voice firm, but kind, “That’s it, B. Let him go. You won, babe.”

Her eyes flick between Laing and Knox.

“C’mon, Bella. You’ve already proved your point, he’s still bleeding and you’re still standing. You got him. Now come back to us. To Ellie, to Haley. To Lex and Cade. To your family. We need you, Bella.” He looks at me and Lex. “They need you, Bella.”

She lets go. Laing chokes, coughing, rolling to the side. Bella stumbles backward, breath ragged, and hands shaking. She drops to her knees like the wind’s been ripped out of her. She’s breathing like she just crawled out of hell. Her chest is heaving. But she’s here.

She’s back.

Sabine steps forward like she’s been waiting on fate to cue her. Silent. Elegant. Ancient. She kneels beside Bella, not rushing, not speaking at first. Then she reaches out and gently takes Bella’s hand in hers.

“Bienvenue, ma belle. Welcome back, baby girl.”