Prepare the divorce and ruin your husband by Mark Twain 23
Chapter 23
Thick. Wet. Heavy. Like the room itself was pressing down on my lungs. My chest burned every time I tried to breathe, sharp and unforgiving, and I knew I must have passed out from the pain because my wrists were on fire, skin torn, blood dried and sticky against the ropes.
I heard them before I saw them.
Roxanne laughing. Soft. Delighted.
Troy’s low voice, amused, impatient.
The light snapped on.
Cold flooded my bones.
They were standing right in front of me, close enough that I could smell her perfume and his sweat, close enough that the humiliation felt deliberate. Like they wanted it carved into me, remembered forever.
Roxanne leaned against Troy, her fingers tracing his arm, her smile slow and vicious. “Look at you,” she said, tilting her head. “This is what you amount to now, Isabella. Tied up. Bruised. Barely breathing. David never really wanted you. Not once. He chose me every time. I was the one he loved. I was the one he stayed for.”
Troy shoved the chair back with a hard kick, rattling my spine. “Still trying to sit pretty,” he said with a grin. “Still acting like you’re something special. It’s almost cute.”
Pain flashed white, but I swallowed it. I lifted my chin anyway. “You’re both pathetic,” I said, my voice shaking but sharp. “You need me broken so you can feel powerful. That’s how empty you are.”
Roxanne snapped.
She crossed the room in seconds and slapped me hard, her palm cracking against my cheek. My head rang, vision blurring, but I didn’t cry out.
“You will never win!” she screamed, breath hot against my face. “Do you hear me? Never. You were never better than me. You were always just in my way.”
Then I heard it.
A small, broken sound.
“Mom… Mom…”
My heart twisted so hard it hurt worse than the ropes.
I turned my head, panic tearing through me. Ryle was tied to a chair across the room,
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his little wrists bound, tears streaking his face. His lip trembled as he sobbed, trying
so hard to be brave.
“Mom, please,” he cried. “I’m scared.”
“Ryle,” I whispered, my voice cracking for the first time. “Baby, look at me. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You hear me? You’re safe. Mommy’s right here.”
Roxanne laughed again, sharp and ugly. “Disgusting,” she said. “Even now you still think you’re strong.”
I shut my eyes for one second.
I thought of Colt. His voice low and steady. His hands warm and sure. The way he said my name like it meant something dangerous and precious at the same time.
I whispered, barely moving my lips, just for me. “I will not beg. Not for them. Not ever.”
The door exploded open.
Shouting. Boots. Gunfire ripping through the room like thunder.
Everything went feral and fast.
Men stormed in, armed and relentless. Troy barely had time to move before he was slammed to the floor, screaming as guns pinned him down.
Someone cut Ryle free and I heard his cry turn into sobs as he was pulled away, safe.
Then David was dragged in.
He froze the moment he saw me.
Tied. Bloody. Barely holding myself upright.
Something shattered in his face. All the lies. All the denial.
Colt stepped into the light.
Tall. Calm. Deadly.
His eyes found me instantly, nothing else in the room existing. My strength finally gave out when his hands cupped my face, warm and trembling.
“I told you not to leave me,” he said quietly, his voice breaking despite himself. “I told you I’d protect you.”
Behind him, Roxanne shrieked, fighting the men restraining her. “David! Look at me! Save me! Don’t let them take me! I did all of this for us!”
David turned to her slowly, disgust written clear and ugly across his face. “For us?” he said hoarsely. “You tortured her. You hurt my son!”
David’s face twisted, rage consuming what was left of him.
“Take her away,” Colt said coldly, never looking at Roxanne. “She doesn’t get to speak
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anymore. I’ll decide what happens to her.”
Troy suddenly broke free, lunging with a blade, eyes wild.
He never made it.
Gunshots echoed. He dropped instantly, blood spreading across the floor.
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David fell to his knees beside me, tears streaming. “I’m sorry,” he choked. “Isabella, I’m so sorry. Please don’t give up. I swear I’ll never hurt you again.”
But then bang!
Roxanne shot me.
“Nadia!”
I wanted to answer. I wanted to tell him I was still fighting.
But the sounds faded, the world dimmed, and the darkness took me again.
COLT’S POV
I took Nadia back to my clinic. My place. My rules.
She was limp in my arms, blood soaking through my shirt, her skin cold in a way that made my jaw lock tight. The alarms were screaming, sharp and unforgiving, like they were mocking me for being too late.
“Move,” I snapped at the staff. “Get the hell out of my way.”
No one argued. They never do when my voice drops like that.
I laid her down myself, hands shaking only when I wasn’t looking at them. The monitor flatlined.
Three seconds.
Three seconds where my lungs forgot how to work.
“No,” I growled, already pressing down on her chest. “No. You don’t get to die. Not now. Not like this.”
Blood was everywhere. The bullet had gone straight through her heart. Clean shot. Professional. Whoever pulled the trigger knew exactly what they were doing.
I shocked her once. Nothing.
Twice.
Her body jerked, hard, then fell still again.
“Come back,” I said, low and vicious, like I could scare death itself. “You don’t leave
The machine finally caught something. Weak. Fragile. Barely there.
Chapter 23
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I sucked in a breath that burned all the way down.
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Ax was beside me, pale as hell. “Boss. The damage is too severe. Her heart’s gone. We can’t patch this.”
I looked at him. Calm. Cold. “Say it clearly.”
“She needs a transplant. Right now. A real heart. No machine. No delay.”
My vision narrowed. “Then you find one.”
“There’s no donor on standby.”
“Then steal one,” I said flatly. “Call every hospital. Every underground surgeon. I don’t
care who screams. Bring me a heart in one hour or I burn this city until someone
hands me one.”
Ax nodded once and ran.
Behind me, a voice broke the air.
“Use mine.”
I turned slowly.
David.
He looked wrecked. Blood on his sleeves. Eyes red. But his voice did not shake.
I stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “Say that again.”
“Take my heart,” he said. “Give it to her. I’m serious.”
The room went dead quiet
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