You're Mine, I'm Yours II

Part 4

Warning : violence ⚠️

David sat rigidly at the head of the grand oak table, his fingers clenched around the polished wood, his knuckles white with tension. The meeting had been proceeding smoothly, negotiations poised delicately, when the sharp crack of a gunshot shattered the air. Panic rippled through the room like a shockwave, freezing everyone in place, eyes wide with fear and uncertainty.

The door burst open with a violent crash, revealing a squad of armed bodyguards clad in tactical gear, their weapons trained and ready. They moved with a precision honed through countless operations, every movement calculated and efficient. David's own guards reacted swiftly, forming a protective shield around him and his associates, their weapons drawn in a desperate attempt to defend against the unexpected intrusion.

But the intruders were relentless, their assault swift and overwhelming. Two of David's guards seized him roughly, forcing him into a chair at the head of the table while chaos reigned around them. Through the swirling commotion, David's eyes widened in recognition and dread as he caught sight of a familiar figure striding purposefully through the doorway.

Khaotung.

The name reverberated in David's mind like a curse as he watched Khaotung's men effortlessly dispatch his guards. They moved with lethal precision, overpowering their adversaries with a chilling calmness. Amidst the mayhem, Khaotung approached with deliberate steps, his eyes burning with a mix of fury and grim satisfaction.

"Surprise Motherfucker!" Khaotung snarled, his voice cutting through the chaos. He dragged a chair from a nearby corner and positioned it directly in front of David, his movements deliberate and calculated.

David's fear was palpable, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he stared up at the man he had once tormented beyond measure. Memories flooded David's mind-a time when he had kidnapped Khaotung, subjected him to brutal beatings, and left him broken and near death. The echoes of Khaotung's screams and the haunting image of First, bound and helpless, flashed through David's consciousness.

"You can't escape," Khaotung's voice was cold, final. "My men have surrounded this place."

David's lips trembled as he tried to muster defiance. "Kill them!" he barked hoarsely, his command faltering under the weight of Khaotung's relentless advance.

But Khaotung paid no heed. With a sudden surge of pent-up fury, he lashed out, his fists connecting with David's face in a brutal onslaught. Each blow was fueled by the memories of his own suffering-the relentless beatings, the agony of helplessness, and the searing pain of betrayal.

David's face was a grotesque canvas of brutality, blood streaming from his split lips and shattered nose. His features were contorted in agony, unrecognizable beneath the swelling and bruising inflicted by Khaotung's relentless assault. The room reverberated with the sickening sound of bone meeting flesh, punctuated by David's desperate cries for mercy.

Khaotung's rage knew no bounds. He seized David by the collar, his grip vice-like, and forced him back into the chair with a savage push. Standing over him, he gestured to his bodyguard, Jin, to step forward, holding a baseball bat. The same bat David had once used to inflict terror and pain upon Khaotung and First. The sight of it made David's face drain of color, fear creeping through his body.

Khaotung stepped closer, his eyes dark and filled with fury. He put his hand on David's shoulder, his grip tightening painfully. "Which one was it?" Khaotung asked, his voice a low, menacing growl.

David's head was ringing from the beating, his vision blurry from the swelling. His face, a bloody canvas, twisted in confusion. "What?" he managed to croak, his voice barely audible.