Chapter 46 A Den of Snakes
Lara POV
"I can’t take it anymore...stop..." I said weakly.
I was far too exhausted to be embarrassed about begging for mercy from Vienna anymore. Right now, I would rank her at a far higher level of evil than even her boss.
I felt like I had been hit by a truck. All my muscles were screaming.
"Already?" Vienna scoffed. "No chance. Get up! Give me another ten push ups."
I had experienced bullies before when I was at school. Boys who stuck gum into my hair during class. Girls who tried to push my head down the toilet in the breaks. I never let any of them get to me, gave back as good as I got.
Vienna was a different kind of evil.
She did not stop at beating me up. After throwing me down at her feet again and again, she seemed to get bored with that — or maybe she was wary that she would get in trouble with Emmanuel Sagres if she hurt me too badly.
"I won’t let you go crying to him to show how I bruised you up," Vienna said with a wicked grin. "I’ll teach you a thing or two about self-protection..."
From then on, she transformed into the personal trainer from hell. She mocked me while I pushed weights or gasped for breath on the running machine, barking orders, refusing to let me stop for a break until my muscles were screaming.
"You’ll have to just kill me," I said, closing my eyes, lying flat on the padded floor of the gym. Yep, I’ll just live here for the rest of my life.
Without warning, cold water splashed over my face.
I sat up with a groan, spluttering.
Vienna rolled a water bottle in my direction with a deep scowl.
"Drink."
I chugged down half a bottle of water before I started to feel halfway alive again. For the first time, I almost missed Emmanuel Sagres.
"When is Emmanuel coming back?"
Vienna looked about ready to throw another scathing retort at me, but maybe she was also curious about this, because she turned her back on me and pulled out her phone.
She pursed her lips and frowned at the screen, her hand on her hips.
"What? Fuck!" she muttered, smacking the metal bar of a weight machine with a loud clang. "It was Turdin’s men who set fire to the docks? I can’t believe I’m going to miss a fight like this."
She looked up and glared at me again.
"Who’s Turdin?" I said, bewildered.
"You don’t know? Guess you’re too busy spreading your legs to notice anything important." Vienna said scathingly.
"That man the Boss stabbed at Elysium was Turdin’s son, and now we’re at war."
The man at Elysium?
With a shudder, I recalled the man who had pressed me for a night with him, his fingers lingering for too long at the curve of my breast.
The screams. The blood that sprayed the floor.
The terrifying safety of being held in Emmanuel’s arms while he committed the utmost violence, a feeling that I had been trying to forget.
That night had started a mafia war?
Because of me?
I had no idea about the ins and outs of rivalries between gangs, but I knew how dangerous it was even to be caught in the crossfire.
What if he died?
Good riddance, I told myself. It would make the world a better place.
So I thought, but my heart clenched and grew restless anyway.
"I should be there," Vienna said angrily, pacing back and forth like a caged leopard. "I am the best fighter in close quarter combat. I would slice out Turdin’s throat in a second!"
I swallowed heavily at the reminder.
Vienna was not just your regular jealous bitch, but a cold-blooded killer. Everyone in this tower, even the sweet, middle-aged Asian chef, could pick up her knife and slice someone’s throat rather than dicing tomatoes.
I had truly fallen into a den of snakes. Vienna was right...I was the weakest person around here. But I didn’t want to stay that way.
Without another word, I rolled onto my front, gritted my teeth, and finished the ten push ups, despite my protesting, screeching muscles.
It didn’t win me any gold stars.
Vienna barely spared me a glance, her expression brooding. She sat on a weight machine, typing furiously on her phone, muttering under her breath. From the sounds of it, she was arguing with someone that she should go and join the mission, and some other idiot could replace her on this ’babysitting’ duty.
"Typical!" she spat at last, stuffing her phone back into her pocket. "Stupid Dover. Just because I’m a woman, I get all the fucking dirty work."
"And somehow you still kiss the boots of the man in charge," I muttered.
——
Emmanuel POV
The streets of South Hartlow were quiet. Nondescript black cars were parked at various positions around the block, forming a circle where not even a fly would get in or out.
On the corner of the street was what appeared to be a uninviting, family-run pawn shop. Most of the windows were boarded up or covered in a layer of grime.
Beside me in the driver’s seat, Dover pointed at the shop’s door.
"That’s where Turdin’s headquarters are."
"Are you sure he is there now?" I asked.
"One of our men have been on stake out. He went inside half an hour ago."
"And who else is in there?"
"About half a dozen men, by estimate," Dover said. "That son of his is still in the hospital. As long as we take out Turdin, his men will dissolve into chaos."
I loaded my gun and tucked it out of sight under my jacket.
"Let’s pay Mr Turdin a visit, then."
The car doors opened in sync on either side. I strode unhurriedly towards the pawn shop, Dover at my side.
Ding-ring.
The bell rang out cheerfully as I stepped into the pawn shop, one spotless leather shoe lifting a cloud of dust from the old carpet.
My lip curled in disgust.
Time to get this done, in and out as quickly as possible.
I killed the man at the counter before he got his hand to the alarm. One shot. He folded sideways into the register.
Dover circled around the counter and felt beneath it for a while before he found a button. With a quiet click, the shelf behind the counter swung inwards, revealing the secret room behind it.
I entered first, Dover and more of my men piling into the small shopfront of the pawn shop with their firearms raised.