Bloody Heart (Brutal Birthright #4) - Sophie Lark Page 0,4

his wife. Was that your mother, or did he father you on some other whore?”

My mother is five years in the ground. But there’s not an hour of the day when I don’t think of her.

Rage surges through me like boiling oil, flooding my veins.

In one movement, I snatch the little silver knife up off the table and bury it in the side of Dukuly’s neck. I jam it in so deep that half the hilt disappears along with the blade.

Dukuly claps his hand over the wound, eyes bulging and mouth silently opening and closing like a fish out of water.

I hear the click click click as the burly bodyguard tries to shoot me in the back. The Glock fires impotently. I’m not stupid enough to bring loaded weapons to an arms deal.

However, I have no doubt that there’s plenty of bullets in the guns inside their jackets.

So I spin Dukuly around, using his body as a meat shield. I have to crouch—he’s not as tall as I am.

Sure enough, Ponytail already has his gun out. He fires six shots in rapid succession, riddling the chest and bulging belly of his boss. He knows Dukuly is already dead—he’s motivated by revenge now.

Well, so am I.

These fuckers tried to steal from me. They insulted my family.

Just as the boss is responsible for the actions of his soldiers, so the soldiers will pay for their boss’s words. I’m going to rip their heads off their fucking shoulders.

But I don’t like my odds at the moment—two against one, and I’m the only one without a gun.

So instead, I sprint toward the window, dragging Dukuly’s limp body along as my shield. I dive through the open frame, turning my shoulders sideways so I’ll fit. It’s a tight squeeze—I barely make it, through sheer force of momentum.

I fall four stories through the air, watching the sky and the pavement swap positions.

Then I crash into the awning.

The canvas frame wasn’t meant to support 220 lbs of plummeting mass. The fabric tears and the struts collapse, encasing me in a cocoon of wreckage.

I hit the ground hard. Hard enough to knock the air out of me, but with a whole fuck of a lot less impact than I deserve.

Still, I’m dazed. It takes me a minute to clear my head. I flail my arms, trying to extricate myself from the mess.

When I look up at the window, I see the burly bodyguard glaring down at me. I’m sure he’d like to fire a few shots in my direction. He’s only holding back because his diplomatic immunity expired with his boss.

That’s when I see Ponytail barreling around the side of the building. He sprinted down those four flights of stairs like an Olympian. I watch him hurtling toward me, debating whether I should strangle him with my bare hands or pound his face into pulp.

Then I see the dozen hotel employees and gala guests swarming toward me, and I remember that I made a hell of a lot of noise falling down. I’m sure somebody’s already called the cops.

So instead, I hunt for the closest vehicle with its engine running. I see a sleek black Benz pulled up to the curb. The driver’s seat is empty, but the headlights are beaming.

Perfect.

I wrench open the door and jump into the front seat.

As I put the car in drive, I get one perfect glimpse of Ponytail’s enraged face through the passenger window. He’s so mad he doesn’t give a damn who’s watching—he reaches for his gun.

I give him a little salute as I floor the gas.

The engine roars, and the car jerks away from the curb like a racehorse let out of its stall. The Benz may look like a boat, but it’s got a decent engine under the hood.

My brother Nero would love this. He’s obsessed with cars of all kinds. He’d appreciate the handling, and this cushy leather seat that seems to re-form itself around my body.

The car smells of leather, and whiskey, and something else . . . something sweet and warm. Like sandalwood and saffron.

I’m speeding down Oak Street when a face pops up in the rear-view mirror. It startles me so much that I jerk the wheel to the left, almost plowing into a bus headed in the opposite direction. I have to swerve right to compensate, so the car fishtails back and forth several times before smoothing out again.

I think I let out a yell, and the person in the back gave a little