Page 70 of Monsters Wear Crowns (Crowned Monsters Duet #1)

One of them pressed a fist to my back to keep me still as the door slammed shut behind me. And even through the pain, even half-conscious, my voice came out like gravel soaked in gasoline. “Have you hurt her?”

I was met with silence. The kind that made your bones cold.

I lifted my head, blood trailing down my chin. “If you’ve touched her, I’ll gut every last one of you with my fucking teeth.”

The man across from me just smirked. Let them laugh now.

Because if Adela was hurt, there would be no place on earth for them to hide from me.

All masked in black, they didn’t say anything.

They only stared. As we sped away, I leaned back against the seat, ignoring the ache in my ribs and the warm trickle of blood down my temple.

I could already taste the vengeance in my mouth.

***

The sky above tore itself open, pouring a cold, punishing monsoon over the city. Wind screamed between buildings. Thunder cracked like war drums. The rooftop was slick and glistening, the edge of the world dressed in shadow and ruin.

Moreau stood at the far end like a demon cloaked in calm, his coat flapping in the wind, his smirk carved into his face. I was barely standing–my arms wrenched back by two of his men, my body a mess of bruises, blood, and broken edges. Every breath hurt. Every inch of me screamed.

I spat blood on the concrete. “Going through a lot of effort for a dead man, Moreau.”

His smirk deepened, cruel and knowing. “A dead man?” He clicked his tongue.

“No, no. You’re very much alive, Rafe. And I wanted you to be.

I want you to feel this.” He gestured toward the stairwell door behind him.

A creak. Then footsteps. I didn’t want to look.

My gut was already screaming. My heart knew something my brain refused to accept. But I looked anyway, and there she was.

Adela .

She stepped onto the rooftop like the storm had conjured her.

She was dark, stunning, and merciless. The rain kissed her skin, making her dress cling to every line of her body, her black heels echoing on the wet concrete like gunshots.

Her hair whipped around her face, soaked and wild, but her eyes were steady.

She wasn’t restrained or even fighting. She walked with purpose… straight to Mo reau’s side.

Not mine.

A hollowness bloomed in my chest, bottomless and cold. My vision blurred, not from pain, but from the sudden weight inside me. It crushed my ribs and tore through muscle and bone. I could take a hundred bullets. But this? This–

This was the kill shot.

Moreau saw it. I knew he saw it. The satisfaction glittered in his eyes as he turned toward me like the showman he was. “Ah,” he said, voice smug and almost tender. “There it is. That realization. That crack right down the middle of you.”

I couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe. The blood in my mouth tasted like betrayal.

“She had a choice,” he went on, circling me like a vulture. “I told you you were going to lose. You thought you were her equal. Her king. But a woman like Adela Sinclair doesn’t choose love when she could have a whole kingdom.”

I forced myself to look at her, begging for something. A flicker. A tremble. A blink that said this isn't real. But she gave me nothing. Just her chin high, her spine straight, her hands at her sides like she wasn’t scared of what came next. Like she wasn’t here to save me.

Moreau stopped beside me, his breath hot against my ear. “She didn’t sell you out, Rafe. She offered. ”

My knees buckled. The men holding me gripped harder. No. No. This wasn’t real. Not her. Not the woman I would’ve taken a bullet for. The woman who had burned into me, body and soul. The woman I’d bled for. Fucking killed for.

Loved .

My chest cracked open, a raw, brutal shatter. Rage fought grief. Hope fought despair. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to scream or fall to my knees.

“She didn’t even hesitate,” Moreau whispered.

I looked at her one more time and found no reaction. Not even a goddamn flinch. Just rain streaking down her face in silence. My hands curled into fists, metal biting into my wrists. And for the first time in years, I felt powerless.

Not her.

Please, God–not her.

Adela finally spoke, her voice calm and measured, as if this were just another negotiation or another calculated move on the board. “I told you before, Rafe,” she said, rain dripping from her lashes, her tone devoid of tremble. “I won’t let anyone control me.”

Her gaze met mine. And for the first time since I’d known her, I couldn’t read her. Not a flicker. Not a tell. Nothing . She was a locked vault.

Moreau handed her a gun with a casual grace, like it was nothing more than a glass of wine at dinner. Her fingers wrapped around it without hesitation.

Liar .

I wanted to say it out loud. I wanted to scream it at her until my throat gave out. Instead, a bitter laugh clawed its way from my chest. “So, what, little doe? ” I rasped. “You get to kill me yourself? That was the price?”

Moreau’s grin twisted into something unholy. “Her only request, actually.” He leaned in, voice like poison. “You should feel honored. Most men don’t get to die by the hand of someone they love.”

I tore my eyes from her before the sight of her could break me any further. Looked instead at the man who had set this all in motion. The man who thought he’d won. “You really believe she won’t turn on you?” I said, voice low, thick with loathing.

He scoffed, like the idea was inevitable but irrelevant. “Of course, she will. But not yet. Not until she’s taken everything she came for.” He tilted his head toward her like she was some rare beast he admired but never trusted. “Isn’t that right, Adela?”

But she didn’t look at him. Her eyes found mine instead. The rain slid down her face, her grip on the gun unshaken, her lips pressed into a line I couldn’t read.

She stood there, cold and composed, every inch the woman I’d fallen for–only now, I wasn’t sure if I ever truly knew her at all.

She wasn’t shaking or even fucking hesitating. She was in control. And in that moment, something inside me cracked open. This was real. She wasn’t going to save me. She wasn’t going to fight for me.

She’d made her decision.

And somehow, that hurt more than the broken ribs, more than the blood in my mouth, more than anything I’d ever survived. I had fucking lost her. And I had never known pain like this before.

***

ADELA

The gun felt heavier than it should have. Rain lashed against my skin, soaking through my clothes as I stared at him. Rafe was bound, bloodied, and kneeling in front of me, his devastated blue eyes locked onto mine. He didn’t speak or plead.

Moreau’s laughter slithered through the air like a serpent. “Go on, Adela.” He leaned in close, voice a smooth whisper against the storm. “Put him down like the dog he is.”

I lifted the gun.

Rafe watched me, his chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths. I had never seen him like this. Defenseless.

And yet, he wasn’t afraid.

I let out a sharp breath, tilting my head slightly. “You know, I told myself I’d never become my mother.”

Rafe’s expression flickered, just barely, but I saw it.

I tightened my grip on the gun. “She loved a Vaughan man, too. And in the end, what did it get her?” I shook my head, my voice cold. “Nothing. Nothing but grief, blood, and ruin. Collateral damage. ”

Rafe’s jaw clenched.

“I told myself I was smarter,” I went on, each word like a blade through my chest. “That I would never let a man make me small. That I would never let someone hurt me and still want them the way she did.” I swallowed against the bitter taste in my mouth, the storm roaring between us.

“But I never thought you’d truly do it. I never thought you’d hurt me like that night in your office. ”

His expression twisted with regret.

Good .

I wanted him to feel it.

I lifted the gun higher, aiming straight at his heart.

“I can’t forgive you.” My voice wavered, but I held steady.

“And I won’t let myself be destroyed because of you.

Since you walked into my life, I have experienced one inconvenience after another.

And I’m done. You made my life so fucking stressful.

I hated looking over my shoulder everywhere I went because when I took you on as a client, I took on your enemies, too.

I didn’t want this.” Lightening pierced the sky, followed by the immediate rumble of thunder.

Moreau hummed in satisfaction beside me. “Smart girl.”

I took a slow breath, steadying my aim.

Rafe’s expression was unreadable. His dark eyes locked on mine.

Moreau was right. Rafe was self-destructing. He always had been. And standing here now, soaked in rain, my finger curled around the trigger, I could have let him. I could have let this storm swallow him whole.

But Moreau didn’t know me as well as he thought.

Because if Rafe was going down, it would never be by my hand.

I exhaled.

One heartbeat.

Two.

Then, I shifted my aim and pulled the fucking trigger.

** *

RAFE

The gunshot cracked through the storm, and Moreau staggered back, a deep, wet gasp leaving his lips as his hand clutched at the growing red stain on his chest. Shock flickered across his face.

For a single, suspended moment, time stopped .

Then–chaos.

Moreau’s men reacted instantly, drawing their weapons, their shouts drowned by the howling wind. I felt the heat of a muzzle flash, the sharp zing of bullets slicing through the air. My restraints dug into my skin as I ripped against them, my body thrumming with unrelenting rage.

Adela had done it. She had turned the tables in an instant.

But she was still in the open. And these bastards wouldn’t let her walk away alive.

A gunman lunged for her, and she barely had time to twist out of the way.

My pulse roared as she pivoted, lifting the weapon again.

Another shot rang out, and another body dropped. But there were too many.

My muscles burned as I struggled harder against my the cuffs, my teeth bared in a snarl. I would not be kept from her.

Then I saw it–

The knife.

It was a flash of silver in the rain, a shadow moving too fast.

“Adela!”

She turned just as the blade sank into her side . Her sharp gasp cut through the storm as the force of it knocked her back. I saw the way her legs buckled, the way her breath shuddered from her lips.

And then everything inside me snapped .

A roar ripped from my throat as I wrenched free, breaking from the cuffs. The pain in my raw wrists was meaningless in the face of what I was about to do. The closest man turned, his gun swinging toward me–too slow.

I drove my elbow into his throat, feeling the satisfying crunch of his windpipe collapsing. He dropped like a stone, and before his body hit the ground, I already had his weapon in my hands.

And then I unleashed hell .

I didn’t aim. I didn’t hesitate.

The first shot took a man between the eyes.

The second tore through another’s chest.

I moved like death itself, a force too violent to be contained. Blood sprayed, bodies crumpled. Some tried to run.

I didn’t let them.

One by one, I ended them.

It wasn’t just killing–it was butchery .

A scream gurgled from a man’s throat as I slammed his head into the concrete until it split open like a melon. Another bastard tried to crawl away, and I put a bullet in his spine, watching him writhe before I finished him off. The storm raged, but I was worse.

And Moreau–

That motherfucker was mine .

He had managed to drag himself across the rooftop, his body shaking as he tried to press his hand to his wound.

Pathetic.

I strode toward him, stepping over the bodies I had cut down, the rain washing the blood from my skin. He looked up at me, desperation and fear in his expression.

He opened his mouth. But I put a bullet through his skull before he could speak.

** *

ADELA

The world blurred as pain tore through me, white-hot and searing. I staggered, the wind howling in my ears, rain turning slick beneath my hands as I hit the rooftop. Someone was screaming my name– Rafe? Or was that just the storm?

Blood soaked through my fingers, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. My vision swam, but through the haze, I saw Rafe snap.

He ripped free of the last man holding him, his muscles taut with rage. I barely had the strength to lift my head, but I saw the terror in Moreau’s face as he scrambled back. The smug arrogance was gone. Now, there was only a man staring into the eyes of his own executioner.

Rafe didn’t hesitate. He didn’t speak. He just started killing .

Moreau’s men fell one by one, their screams swallowed by the thunder and the wet, sickening sound of flesh meeting steel.

Rafe moved like a predator unleashed, brutal and merciless, drenched in blood and rain.

By the time the last man crumpled, Moreau was crawling backward, clutching his side where my bullet had hit him.

Moreau’s fingers fumbled for his gun. A desperate, pathetic attempt.

Rafe only laughed. It was wrong . The sound of it sent shivers down my spine, chilling me worse than the rain. It was nothing like the man I knew–it was something else , something that had always been caged inside him, now loose .

And when he raised his weapon, his muscled arm dripping with rain and blood, I froze. He was a nightmare. A ruthless animal. And I was so amazed by the lethal beauty of Rafe that I didn’t even flinch when I heard the shot.

** *

RAFE

Silence. Just the sound of the rain. The scent of blood, thick in the air. And then–

“ Rafe –”

I turned, my chest heaving, and saw her.

Adela lay on the cold, wet concrete, her hand pressed to her wound, her breathing too shallow.

The sight of her there made something in my soul break .

I ran to her, dropping to my knees at her side.

My hands trembled as I touched her, my fingers hovering over her cheek, down to where the blood seeped through her clothes.

“ No, no, no, no–” My voice was raw, barely audible. “ Stay with me, baby. ”

Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused, glassy.

I pressed my forehead to hers, my breath unsteady. “ I need you to hold on. ” My hands tightened around her. “ You hear me, Adela? Don’t you fucking dare leave me. ”

She made a soft, pained sound. Then her body went slack in my arms. And for the first time in my life, I knew what it was to be truly fucking afraid .