Mr. and Mrs. Executive

Chapter 33

AN: Please read the AN at the end!

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Nora James' P. O. V

The now all too familiar ringing in my ears, returns and buzzes with new revenge.

Once again I feel myself being pushed back but it's too late as a groan echoes out and everything comes to a painstaking halt.

I close my eyes but feel no pain from the ricocheting bullet or any other source of harm.

Yanking my eyes open for the tenth time this evening, the first thing I notice is the small trickle of blood soaking through a grey button down shirt.

Trailing my eyes up to the figure, my shoulders sag in relief as I roll my eyes.

I nearly jump up and down and 'aha' in triumph.

Sam crumples into his seat as he holds his bicep where the trickling blood slowly stains through his whole shirt, forming into a gaping wound.

I flinch back but apparently I'm the only one as everyone else watches with self satisfied and content smirks.

I mean even I'm happy but they can't be so cruel as to just stand there and watch.

As soon as I make a move to head towards Sam, Alexander encloses his arm around mine and clasps it gently yet firmly.

"Don't even think about it Nora!" He warns tersely.

Glancing at his rigid and stern expression, I quickly nod my head.

I've pushed enough limits today.

One of the buff men–standing behind Arturo– quickly step forward and grab a pale, swallow looking Sam–who equally as fast–pushes them off of himself.

"Arturo. I swear to God!" Sam gasps out weakly though I'm sure he's trying to sound threatening.

"What, no 'fatherly love?'" Damien asks in almost a mocking manner.

"No one will be going with anyone." Damien continues smoothly, his face still as blank as always.

"I don't think you know exactly how leverage works but I'm starting to get tired of you and your little gang here trying to figure everything out." Daniel snarls out and as if we're all in some overly dramatic movie, more men–dressed in the same black attire– stand up from seats and enter in from a door that leads
into the room.

My eyes widen and I inconspicuously move closer to Alexander, tightening my hold on him.

Glancing around the now– once again–quietened down room, I see the empty chairs and tables that seated the men.

Only men dressed in non threatening clothes occupy the rest of the seats.

"You don't seem to understand hostage situations either; do you now?" Damien asks.

Surprisingly a smirk makes its way onto his face, making him seem all the more threatening and frightening.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Arturo rumbles out.

"That means that no matter what happens, we always have the upper hand." Damien speaks coyly.

"You are outnumbered. What more proof do you freaking want that we could blow all of your brains out on this very floor." Daniel snaps, anger clearly getting to him as can be seen by the red flush coating his neck, face, and ears.

"Well for starters," with the flick of his gun, the remaining people left in the room stand up, each brandishing their own gun, "when you have as much power as I do, you don't really need to rely on anyone. Isn't that right Sam?"
Damien asks sarcastically.