Chapter 9 - THE DEVIL UNLEASHED
Vincent severely underestimated the monster he had just unchained.
Before Vincent’s finger could even begin to squeeze the trigger, Rowan moved with blinding, inhuman speed. He didn't draw his gun; instead, he hurled a heavy steel wrench from the workbench directly at Vincent’s face while lunging forward like a striking viper.
Vincent ducked, swearing as the wrench grazed his shoulder, but the split-second distraction was all Rowan needed. He slammed into the two mercenaries flanking the underboss, driving his elbow into the throat of the man on the left and ripping the rifle from his hands with brutal, bone-crushing force.
Gunfire erupted inside the confined space of the bunker, deafening and chaotic. Bullets ricocheted off the concrete walls in a storm of sparks.
Norah pressed herself flat against the concrete pillar, her heart in her throat as she watched Rowan become a whirlwind of calculated violence. He used the second mercenary as a human shield before hurling him into the path of Vincent's line of fire.
Vincent cursed loudly, firing wildly as his men went down one by one. "Shoot him! Kill them both!" he screamed at the shadows.
But there were no reinforcements coming. Rowan closed the distance between them across the concrete floor in three massive strides. With a vicious kick, he knocked the pistol right out of Vincent’s hand, sending it clattering across the floorboards.
Vincent lunged with a backup switchblade, but Rowan caught his wrist mid-air, twisting it with a sickening crack that echoed sharply over Vincent's sudden scream of agony. Rowan slammed the underboss against the reinforced steel door, pinning him by the throat with one massive, blood-stained hand.
The room fell dead silent, save for the ragged, choking gasps of the traitorous underboss.
Rowan’s face was inches from Vincent’s, his eyes completely black, devoid of any human empathy—pure, cold executioner’s eyes.
"You forgot one rule, Vincent," Rowan whispered, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that carried the weight of absolute death. "You don't touch what's mine."
"Boss... wait—" Vincent choked out, his face turning purple as Rowan’s grip tightened relentlessly around his windpipe. "We're... family..."
"Family doesn't sell out the house," Rowan said coldly.
With a final, merciless wrench, he ended it.
As Vincent’s limp body slumped to the floor, Rowan stood motionless in the dim light, chest heaving, his knuckles bleeding anew. He closed his eyes for a long moment, taking a slow, deep breath, before turning around to find Norah staring at him from the shadows of the pillar.
May you like
She didn't flinch. She didn't scream. She walked straight across the blood-stained concrete, stepped right over the fallen mercenaries, and wrapped her arms around Rowan's waist, burying her face in his chest.
Rowan froze for a second, then wrapped his strong, bloodied arms around her, holding her as if she were the only real thing left in a world built entirely of ash and betrayal.
