CHAPTER 3: The Brutal Beating On Styles - 3

He places a hand over my body.

And you could hit my lady and save yourself from having your teeth ripped out.

your eyes gouged out with my bare hands?

Hunter then below, lunging at him, even with me protecting him but fortunately, he is restrained in time.

It wasn't me, Styles defends himself.

You can see in his eyes that he's terrified, I know him.

I know when he's lying and when he's not, and right now he's sincere.

He wouldn't do that!

I come to his defense.

What are you going to say?

He's your brother.

you'd do anything to stop us from ripping his head off and feeding it to the dogs—the one with the Viking beard snaps with contempt.

Zack, calm down — warns Parry.

I'm starting to get fed up with this pointless conversation.

How much...how much does he owe you?

I dare to ask, praying in every language I know that it's not nonsense.

Judging by how upset they are, though, I don't have much hope that my please will be heard.

It looks bad for Styles and me, who are already neck-deep in this mess.

Two hundred thousand, Zack blurts out, his eyes sparkling.

Suddenly, all eyes are on my barely conscious brother.

As for me, I was shocked.

It's outrageous!

Not even in my wildest dreams could I get such a huge amount of money to pay off the debt.

And the worst thing is that the wild Fiends are just as likely to find "the nutcase" and, consequently, the money he stole from them.

As I am to meet Santa Claus this Christmas.

In short, I'm more screwed than ever and I don't know how the hell I'm going to get out of this.

He comes closer to me so much, that I have to back away on the couch for fear of his lips touching mine and so, holding him just a hand's length away, I can feel the heat emanating from him, combined with the excitement that overwhelms him.

I am overwhelmed by the sensations my own body emits in response.

I want my fucking money back, dollar for dollar and you are going to pay for the loss of your brother — he tells me, with a deadly seriousness in his tone.

The tension is cut with a knife as I lift my chin and stare at him defiantly.

I don't have that money, and you know it.

I manage to keep my voice from shaking even a bit despite being aware of the glowing embers he has for eyes, which are drilling into me fiercely.

Then get it.

You said you'd do anything, didn't you? Without giving me time to reply to the damn sentence.

It's that, or I shoot him between the eyes here, and now; you choose.

Hunter wants him, he says, with deep disdain, and I put my hands to my mouth just imagining it, horrified.

The person in question smiles sinisterly, giving me goosebumps.

So, without even thinking about what my words imply, or how the hell, I'm going to manage to get such a large sum, I accepted.

For my brother, I would sell my soul to the devil.

Okay, fine, fuck!

I'll do whatever you want, but swear to me by whatever is most sacred to you that you won't hurt him — I demand.

My words seem to infuriate him beyond belief, for he clenches his teeth so hard that his jaw creaks, and I fear it might break.

He stares at me and growls, while all the men raise an uproar.

How dare you give orders to the president?

Who do you think you are, bitch? — One of them, Dan, tells me.

Many whistles in clear agreement.

Although others, like Hector and Parry, seem to dislike it when I speak to them like that.

Fiend grabs me by the chin, then aggressively.

I hold my breath, I didn't mean to anger him, but it seems it's too late to regret it.

I have to make sure they don't retaliate against Styles anymore, hunter seems capable of anything.

And Fiend... is the one that scares me the most of all.

This is the third time you've challenged me in one day, Ivanna—his name being said in such a terrifying way, I'm about to faint.

He's far from being satisfied with the way I speak,

I'm speechless, terrified, continues— and I assure you that if there's a fourth time, the consequences will be severe for you and that piece of trash you call brother —he barks at me.

I am outraged by the insult to style but luckily for me, I stopped myself in time before replying with any of the rude things that were going through my head at this moment.

Understood?

I resist answering like I'm one of his submissive whores, but the way his muscles bulge with rage gives me no choice.

I just want them to get the hell out of here so I can get my brother to the hospital and get him treated.

Yes, I understand — I affirm, meekly.

He nods, clearly satisfied.

Then a scream comes from the garden, and I am sure I recognize the voice of Sandy, my roommate.

I had completely forgotten about her.

I curse the fact that she decided to come home from her boyfriend Drake's house just now.

If something happens to her, I will never forgive myself...

To my notice, her screams soon fall silent, and every man in the room, including Fiend, quickly releases me to go see what's going on.

Until Taylor shows up, dragging her along with him, the barrel of his gun to a terrified-looking Sandy's head, and I don't blame her.

Now I understand why they call them wild Fiend.