Venom meets my gaze, defiant to the end. "Yeah. Fuck you."
I raise my gun, aim at his head.
"This is for Grace," I say coldly. "For every nightmare. For every threat. For every second she spent in fear because of you and your family."
Venom doesn't flinch. Doesn't look away. Just stares at me with hatred burning in his eyes.
I pull the trigger.
The gunshot is deafening in the enclosed space.
The bullet enters Venom's forehead, snaps his head back violently.
Brain matter and bone fragments spray across the floor behind him.
His body jerks once, then goes completely still.
Dead.
It's over.
The office is silent except for our heavy breathing and the ringing in my ears from gunfire.
Venom's dead. His guards are dead. His blood is pooling on the floor of his own clubhouse.
The Copperhead Kings' reign of terror is finished.
I look at Phantom. He's staring down at Venom's body, his face unreadable.
"It's done," I say.
"Yeah. It's done."
Damon appears in the doorway, covered in blood and soot. "Clubhouse is clear. Most Copperhead Kings are dead. Maybe five ran. The rest either surrendered or are bleeding out."
"Let the ones who surrendered go," Phantom orders, his voice hoarse. "Let them spread the word. Copperhead Kingsare finished. Anyone comes after Shotgun Saints or our family again, this is what happens."
Damon nods. "Copy that."
I step over Venom's body without looking back.
I need to get to Grace.
Now.
"Shadow, wait—" Phantom starts.
"Grace," is all I say.
He understands. Nods. "Go. We'll handle the cleanup."
I run out of the office, stepping over bodies, blood slick under my boots.
Down the stairs, past the carnage of the second floor, through the first floor where Phantom's group fought their way in.
There are bodies everywhere. The clubhouse reeks of gunpowder and death.
We painted this place red, and I don't feel an ounce of guilt.
