Page 134 of The Billionaire Who Saved My Cat From The Mafia

I stare at the blood, fascinated, wondering if my nose is broken.Maybe my nose already looks like Special K’s.We’re a matching set!I hope he doesn’t get upset if he finds my body somewhere, and my face is no longer pretty.

He’s told me so many times that I have a beautiful face.

But hey, it won’t matter if I’m no longer drop-dead gorgeous, especially after I’ve dropped dead.

The hallway light streams into this tiny room, providing just enough illumination for me to see Niko’s expression as he hovers over me.He’s most definitely high on bloodlust, giddy with the thrill that he’ll finally get to beat me to death.

But I also see how his pupils are black and the size of bottle caps.His body trembles with pent up energy, and he’s grinding his jaw as he stares down at me.I’m thinking methamphetamines, cocaine, or Adderall.Maybe a combo pack.

He’s a man of extremes, after all.

He changes position.He’s behind me now.And this next blow is to my back.But I barely flinch.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say, surprised that my voice still works at this point.

“What did you say, bitch?”

“I said that it doesn’t matter, Niko.None of it will make you a good man or take away from the good person I tried to be.I might have failed, but I sure as hell tried.”

“What the fuck are you saying?”

“You can kill me, but you’ll still be a loser and I’ll still be a winner.”

It’s Niko’s turn to laugh.“I’ve hit you so hard that you’ve got brain damage, you worthless bitch slut.”He starts pacing the room.“You’re on the floor about to die, and I’m standing upright, healthy and happy and in control.”

“You only think you’re in control,” I say.“But you’re a weak and whiny loser, and you always will be.You’re not even a man.I knew a real man once—a true hero—and compared to him, you’re just snail snot under his bootheel.You’re nothing.You’re not fit to lick his feet.You’re…”

My words end with a grunt as Niko uses his foot instead of his fist.He kicks me so hard in the stomach that all the air is forced from my lungs, and it takes a long moment before I can breathe again.

I stare at up him.Even in whatever blurry vision I have left, I can see that he’s worn out too.He leans back against a wall and sneers at me while I struggle to stand.I manage to do it, too, because if I’m going to die, I don’t want to do it in the fetal position.

I want to stand nose-to-nose with my murderer, defiant to the end.

I like to think that if he could see me, Special K would be proud of how I fought to the end.That I didn’t let Niko break me.

If Special K ever learns what happened to me, I hope he knows that I went down swingin.’

CHAPTER 66

Special K

Declan’s new toy doesn’t make much sound when he revs it up and it lifts into the air.To my ear, it sounds more like a flock of starlings than a combat chopper loaded for bear.

Mavis, he called her.

Finn was wrong.This is no Barbie Dreamhouse accessory.Mavis is a stealth killing machine, and I can’t imagine a better mode of transportation for tonight’s mission.

We fly into the night, the four of us strapped to the outside of this nearly invisible helo while Declan’s at the controls.

To balance the weight, Cal and I are on one side while Evander and Finn are on the other.I have no idea what weight Mavis is rated for, but it better be a lot.

We’re armed to the teeth in tactical night gear, helmet and armor systems, assault rifles and side arm holsters, night-vision goggles and lights, breaching gear, and enough explosives to blast a hole the size of the Grand Canyon.

We fly almost due north under cover of darkness, earthbound lights flying directly beneath us.Declan maintains a flight path low to the ground.The night air is cold and thin, and it keeps my brain alert.

I’m ready.

No matter what comes my way.