Within ten minutes, the entire hospital was emptied by Zavier’s bodyguards. He stormed in with a gun, the sharp scent of blood clinging to him.
“Are you insane?”
“Isn’t this the gift you gave me? I accepted it… Aren’t you pleased?”
Zavier’s brows knit tight, his bloodshot eyes darting toward the operating room. “Tiffany, she’s only a young girl! You didn’t need to go that far!”
“Young girl? She knew I liked killing. I assumed you sent her here for me to vent.”
I tugged at my ear, lit a cigarette, and let it hang between my fingers.
“Brother, did I misread the situation? She wasn’t the gift you gave me, but the mistress you gave me?”
Zavier’s fury broke in an instant at the bloodlust curling in my smile. He spun and rushed into the operating room. The girl’s anesthesia had just worn off, and her screams split the air, raw and desperate.
“Zavier! She killed our child! Kill her, hurry! Kill her!”
His gaze swept over her bleeding lower body, and Zavier held her in his arms as he stormed toward me, gun raised to my head.
“Tiffany, you’ve gone too far!”
I smiled, lifting a hand to brush the gun aside, and blew a smoke ring into his face.
“So what? You want to kill me to avenge that bastard child?”