In life, there is always a breaking point, and I think I have reached mine.
I look at the sick fuck in front of me, and everything hurts.
My body hurts.
My soul hurts.
My very being aches.
The blood in my veins feels scalding, poisonous… fucking wrong.
I want to rip it out of myself. I want to tear my skin open and let it all spill out, because it is stained.
I don’t want to, and I can’t, share DNA with this scum.
I refuse to accept it.
Some rational part of me, very damn small, reminds me that I didn’t choose the world I was born into, or the man who donated the bloody sperm.
But that whisper isn’t strong enough. It can’t outweigh the pressure crushing my chest.
I can’t carry this on my conscience.
Did he truly touch her?
Or is he saying it just to get to me?
Fuck, I hope he’s lying.
But when I look at that smug, revolting face, I know he isn’t.
The bastard smiles at me, completely oblivious to the fact that Isaak and Ido are already moving behind him toward the door.
His attention remains fixed on my woman, and the urge to rip him apart almost blinds me.
I take a step forward.
Octavia’s hand closes around my arm again, stopping me. I can’t look at her.
Not yet.
I give Isaak and Ido a barely perceptible nod. They understand and move for the door, slipping out and sealing it behind them.
They’ll keep everyone back.
Anyone who tries to get in will have to go through them first. Isaak has already called for reinforcements. They’ll be here soon.
Which means this bastard has no one coming to save him, and I swear he is not walking out of this room alive.
“I’m going to kill you,” Octavia says calmly.
Fuck.
That’s my girl.
I don’t take my eyes off Viktor.
He laughs, as if she’s joking, but I know she isn’t.
