Brooke Codona is a beautiful young woman and tries to keep everything together. Everything felt good in her life especially her marriage until her husband cheated on her. With nowhere to go, she gets a letter from her late grandmother stating that s...
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The sight of the woman, the legend, the woman I have heard so much about, beaten and broken, ripped through my composure. The cold professionalism shattered, replaced by a searing, primal rage in me.
Damon watched my face, savoring the shock. "Oh, don't look so distressed, Brooke. She's been surprisingly resilient. But I thought it was time for you to meet your grandmother, especially since you keep asking for her so annoyingly. Milena."
Damon walked over and grabbed Milena's face, forcing her chin up roughly. He maneuvered her head so her swollen eyes, barely slits, faced me. "Look, Milena. Look, your granddaughter is here. Guess you were wrong about her coming here" Damon sneered.
Milena tried to focus. Her eyes, though badly damaged, finally found me. There was a flicker of something—recognition, confusion, pain—before she coughed weakly.
Brooke felt the hot sting of tears, an unbearable mixture of fury and despair. This was Milena. This was why they were here. And Damon had turned her into a hostage, a twisted, bloody pawn. He broke her.
"Brooke, stay calm. Do not engage," Sin's voice hissed urgently in her earpiece, thin and strained.
Sever chimed into the comms. "Brooke, maintain position. We are not clear to move."
I ignored them, for some reason my body and my mind completely blocked them out. The months of training, the strategic planning, the cold calculation—it all vanished. She was tired of the control, tired of the games. She was tired of Damon existing.
With a guttural scream, I launched myself forward. I didn't waste time with words. My first strike was a powerful, driving kick aimed at Damon's knee. He blocked it with surprising speed, but the force staggered him back. I followed with a flurry of punches, fueled by pure, blinding hatred.
Damon laughed, blocking her blows, enjoying the spectacle. "Feisty! Sin taught you well!"
The man holding Milena panicked as he saw Damon getting hit. He pulled her upright, yanking her head back, and pressed a hunting knife against the fragile skin of her throat to threaten me. "Stop! Or she dies!" the man bellowed.
The threat cut through my focus like glass. I immediately froze, my stance faltering as I stared at the thin line of blood already welling beneath the blade.
Damon seized the moment. He drove a massive shoulder into Brooke's chest, sending her sprawling onto the slick concrete.
As she hit the ground, instinct took over. Her hand flashed to her boot. The stiletto was in her grip an instant later. Without hesitation, she threw it straight at the man holding Milena.
The blade spun end over end, silencing the man holding Milena mid-shout. The knife buried itself deep in his forehead. He dropped instantly, collapsing in a silent heap.
