Page 131 of Monsters Carve Thrones

I inclined my chin. He knew, but he wanted to hear it. “Because no one harms Rafe Vaughan’s fucking wife.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw as he tilted his head.

“And no one humiliates Adela Sinclair-Vaughan.”

He nodded, a slow smile spreading in that way that could freeze your blood and melt your heart at the same time. “That’s my girl,” he murmured. “You need to remind them that you are afucking force, with or without me.Sinclair. Got that? They saw you weak and hurt. Show them the goddamn ruthless goddess I married.”

“I will.” I returned his affection with a light kiss and inched down the hall toward the suite where our things were packed. The others fell in behind us, each a blade waiting to be unsheathed. A sleek black SUV awaited us outside.

I braced myself, nodded once, and climbed aboard. And with that, we were hurtling straight to fucking war.

Chapter 24

The villa we tracked Varga to was nestled in the hills outside Bratislava, a mansion shrouded in old wealth and guarded by armed personnel. He’d fortified the perimeter like a man with enemies, but not well enough.

From our elevated ridge in the trees, Rafe crouched beside me, assembling the scope on his rifle with unnerving calmness. Laura and Nico waited just behind, pistols in hand, while Kieran scanned the area with binoculars.

“There,” Rafe muttered, locking into a prone position. “Four guards on the front lawn. Two on the roof.”

“Take them,” I murmured.

Crack.

The first shot rang out, silenced but brutal. One of the rooftop guards dropped like a puppet with its strings cut.

Crack.

Crack.

Two more. One fell forward into the bushes. The other collapsed onto the stone steps with a sickening thud.

“Jesus,” Laura whispered. “He doesn’t miss.”

“No,” I said, rising with my own weapon in hand, heart pounding. “He doesn’t.”

Rafe gave me a sharp and fierce look. “Lead the way, Sinclair.”

It was all I needed.

I stormed through the brush with the others behind me, no hesitation, no doubt. Two guards rounded the corner, one raising his rifle. I put a bullet through his forehead before he could blink. Nico tackled the other, knife flashing, blood spraying as the man hit the ground, gargling.

We split into two units–me, Laura, and Kieran toward the east wing, Rafe and Nico circling wide to breach the opposite side. I kicked down a side door. A startled man inside reached for his gun, but I fired three times into his chest. The impact sent him sprawling over a marble table.

“Upstairs,” Kieran said, low and grim. “Varga’s in the study.”

“He definitely knows we’re here by now.”

The three of us ascended, sweeping hallway after hallway. Another guard lunged out of a bathroom, and Laura shot him in the throat. Blood spattered the wallpaper as we passed. When we reached Varga’s study, the heavy oak door barely had time to swing before Kieran battered it open. In the glare of the crystal chandelier, Zdenek Varga stood at his mahogany desk, his mouth agape, a pistol wobbling in his sweaty grip.

I didn’t waste a second.

I raised my gun and shot him in the kneecap. He buckled with a howl, clutching at the shattered bone and gushing blood. Panic flickered in his eyes.Good.

I circled behind him, savoring the dread twisting his face. “You remember me?” I asked, voice low and poisonous. “You said you liked it when women fought back.” My gun steadied. “You told me that beforeyou raped me.”

Kieran tensed beside me.

Varga’s grip on the pistol tightened, but he couldn’t raise it. Instead, fury darkened his face.