Page 186 of Wicked Refusal

Fury.

I lean over Brad. He’s twisting like a worm, moaning in pain. “You?—”

“No.” I put my palm over the bullet wound. “No more talk from you. You’ll listen to me now.”

Then I press down hard.

Brad howls. He tries to pry me off, but Yulian pins his good arm to the ground with his foot, keeping him still.

I should feel bad about this. Breaking my oath, this time on purpose. Not because of extenuating circumstances, but because Iwantto.

But I don’t.

Because, as it turns out, there isn’t a single oath I wouldn’t break for my children.

“You tried to rape me,” I growl in Brad’s sweat-beaded face. “To kidnap me and kill my daughter. Then you put a gun to my son’s head.”

“H-He’smy?—”

“No, he’s not,” I cut in. “He’s not yours anymore. You gave that right away the second you tried to punch him out of me. And then again tonight, when you threatened to shoot him.”

“I d-didn’t—” he gasps. “I saved him! I let him go!”

“I know. That’s the only reason I’m offering mercy right now. Because somewhere in that rotten heart of yours, you actually care about him after all.” I pin him with a glare. “So here’s what’s gonna happen.”

I grab his chin, force him to look at me as I speak. I want him to remember this—to burn each word into his memory. He won’t have a chance to hear it twice.

“Earlier, I recorded everything you said,” I explain. “All your dirty little secrets about your business: your shell companies, your mob ties, the people you had killed. You wanna know where that recording went?”

“W-Where?”

“To the feds.”

Brad’s face goes white. “N-No. You can’t?—”

“Yes, I can.” My voice turns to ice. “And I just did.”

As if on cue, sirens start blaring. Brad’s face goes from white to green.

I feel my lips curl into a smile. The first genuine smile of the night. “I’ll give you a head start. If you run, we won’t come looking. But if you so much as think of stepping foot in New York again, it’s on sight.” I dig my nails into his face. Whether they’ll leave a scar or not, I don’t know, and I don’t fucking care. “Nod if you understand.”

He nods instantly. Repeatedly.

Satisfied, I let go.

Brad staggers upright. He stares at me, then at Yulian, eyes wide with terror.

“Oh, and one more thing,” I add.

Then I punch his nose in.

The satisfyingcrackechoes in the night. It doesn’t give me as much of a rush as could have—Desya already broke Brad’s septum, after all—but it sure as shit feels good.

Brad howls again, both hands flying to his bleeding face. “You b?—!”

“What was that?” Yulian snarls.

Then he grabs Brad by the collar.