TWENTY-ONE| Beautiful girl

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I slowly approach the closed door, holding a glock 19 in my extended hand as I hear voices

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I slowly approach the closed door, holding a glock 19 in my extended hand as I hear voices.

"I want her back. You have her location, so find a way to get to her without that fucking bitch getting in the way." I hear someone's voice, a thick Russian accent playing on his words.

"Isabella is mine. No one's getting in the way of that." He yells.

That has to be Nikolai.

I feel the blood rushing in my body, my adrenaline running high as my jaw clenches with anger.

I take a deep breath before kicking the door down. I watch as their eyes snap to me, the two men in the room all pull out their gun. I don't hesitate as I put a bullet in each of their heads. They fall back as rapid sounds of gunfire spreads through the building. The other man in room comes launching at me.

Blue eyes, straight blonde hair, a neck tattoo.

That's him. It's Nikolai.

He's almost pushing me to the floor when I shoot at his leg. He lets out a galling scream as he falls to the floor.

I don't want to let him die easy. I want to make him pay for what he did to her. I want to keep him locked in my basement, continuously torturing him for years. I want to make it slow. Painful. Vengeful.

I get on top of him, remembering all the shit he did to her as my fist meets his cheekbone.

"Fuck you. Your a sick fucking bastard." I punch him again, the sound of his breaking nose bringing me joy.

I land another punch to his face. And another. And another.

Nikolai groans, his leg bleeding out beneath me.

I pull out the other gun from my waist band, putting a bullet through his palm. Putting a hole through his hands. The same hands that touched Isabella. The same hands that tortured her. The same evil hands that touched Bella.

He screams out in pain as I watch the tears falling down his face. The floor now covered in his blood.

I move to shoot at his other palm when I hear a gunshot go off as I feel a sting at the right side of my chest. I look down, my hand coming up to my chest as I see the blood pouring down, tainting my shirt.

Cazzo!

My knees buckle as my muscles start feeling week. My shaking hands comes up, my brows furrowing, the pain intensifying as I put a bullet through the man that shot me.

I fall to the floor, sliding down the wall, not able to hold myself up anymore. I bring my hand up to the wound, pushing on it as my eye sight blurs.

Fuck. I can't die. Not right now. Not before I punish Nikolai for what he did to Isabella. Not before I help her get better. Not before I hep her settle down somewhere. Not before I see her happy. Actually happy.

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