Chapter 7 - The Counterstrike
The morning sun broke through the storm clouds, illuminating the bloody aftermath inside the penthouse.
Victor sat up slowly, wincing as the fresh stitches in his side pulled tight.
He looked down at Harper, who had fallen asleep on the floor with her head resting against his uninjured thigh.
She looked entirely exhausted, her brown hair tangled and her face pale.
A fierce, protective fire ignited in Victor’s chest, burning away the pain of the gunshot wound.
Declan Reeve had tried to kill him, which was business.
But Declan had forced Harper to kneel in a pool of blood, crying for his life.
That was a death sentence.
Victor gently moved her head onto a pillow and stood up, ignoring the agonizing burn in his ribs.
He walked over to Arthur, who was still standing guard by the reinforced windows.
“Assemble everyone,” Victor ordered, his voice cold and sharp as broken glass.
Arthur turned, seeing the absolute murder in his boss’s eyes.
“Sir, you are injured,” Arthur cautioned respectfully.
“You need at least a week to recover before we strike back.”
“I don't need a week, Arthur,” Victor growled, picking up a clean shirt and pulling it on carefully over his bandages.
“Declan thinks I am weak and bleeding.”
“He thinks I am hiding in my tower, licking my wounds.”
Victor loaded a fresh magazine into his heavy pistol and slid it into his shoulder holster.
“We are going to hit his main compound in Brooklyn today, in broad daylight.”
Arthur’s eyes widened slightly in shock.
A daylight assault was unprecedented in their world; it was a total declaration of unrestrained war.
“Understood, sir,” Arthur said, a grim smile finally appearing on his stoic face.
“I will ready the men.”
Victor walked back to the couch and knelt beside Harper.
He gently brushed the hair out of her eyes.
She stirred, blinking groggily before her eyes widened in alarm as she saw him dressed for battle.
“What are you doing?” she asked, sitting up quickly and grabbing his arm.
“You just got shot!”
“I am finishing this,” Victor said calmly, cupping her face in his hands.
“I cannot keep you locked in this tower forever, Harper.”
“The only way you get your life back is if Declan Reeve no longer exists to threaten it.”
Harper stared into his dark, determined eyes, knowing she could not stop him.
He was a force of nature, a violent storm that she had somehow managed to calm for a short time.
But now, the storm was breaking loose to protect her.
“Please,” she whispered, her voice cracking with fear.
“Please come back to me.”
Victor leaned in and kissed her deeply, pouring every ounce of his suppressed emotions into the embrace.
It was a kiss that promised violence to his enemies and absolute devotion to her.
“I always come back,” he promised softly against her lips.
He stood up, his tall frame cutting an imposing figure against the morning light.
He turned and walked toward the elevator.
“Lock the doors,” Victor ordered Arthur as they stepped into the private car.
“If anyone other than us tries to enter this floor, blow the stairwell.”
May you like
The elevator doors closed, taking the monster away to wage a war for his angel.
Harper was left alone in the silent penthouse, waiting for the blood to stop spilling.
