Victor - Her Ruthless Husband (Ruthless Triad 3)

Like any artist, I'm flattered that he thinks enough of my work to want me to replicate it for money.

But I'm in a hurry, so I answer, “Sorry, I don't do commissions. And I'm not from the area, so…”

Disappointment flashes across his expression. Then the affable look disappears. “That's too bad, Dawn. I guess we'll have to do this the hard way.”

Wait, he just called me by my name. “How do you know my name?”

But that question disappears when he pulls back the side of his windbreaker.

There’s a gun sticking out the waistband of his pants.

“We have a mutual friend by the name of Victor Zhang,” he says, answering my original question. “Why don’t we go see him now?”

15

DAWN

He has a gun.

My first instinct is to run. But then I think of the baby, and that initial hesitation loses me precious time along with the chance to escape.

The no longer friendly delivery guy grabs me by the arm and starts tugging me toward a large white van with a picture of freshly baked bread on the side. There’s nothing ominous about it which makes it the perfect vehicle for a kidnapping. Oh God, I'm being kidnapped.

“Don't struggle,” the guy warns as if sensing my rising panic. He tightens his grip around my arm, digging his fingers so hard into my flesh, I’m sure it will leave a bruise. “We just need to deliver a message to Victor Zhang. If you come along quietly, nothing will happen. But if you don't, I'm going to have to hurt you.”

We’re almost to the van now. I look around helplessly and find a hell of a predicament. Yes, I could scream. But the beach is too far away for me to be heard, and at a little before 11 AM, the parking lot only has a few cars. So not only would no one hear me, I might make this guy angry enough to carry out his threat.

But every instinct—not to mention all the murder podcasts I’ve listened to and crime shows I’ve watched over the years—is telling me I can't get in that van.

There is no way this guy will take me to a second location and just talk to Victor without either of us getting hurt. Or worse.

So I guess my choice is hurt because one thing is really clear. If I'm going to get away, it has to happen here. It doesn't matter if the guy hurts me. I have to get away! I start tugging back as hard as I can against his grip and scream out anyway on the off chance someone comes out of the store.

“I told you not to struggle!”

The guy raises a hand, curling it into a fist. Then pain explodes across my face when he straight-up punches me. My eyes swim with stars, and I stagger, but I refuse to let myself fall. I struggle to remain upright, and I continue to tug against his grip. I have to get away. Everything zeros in on that one goal.

But then, his hold on me suddenly slackens.

Not because of my valiant struggle, though. I find that out when I look up to see Victor. He's got the guy in a chokehold, and he's dragging him away from me.

“Victor, watch out! He has a gun!”

My warning isn't needed, as it turns out. Victor viciously twists the man's head to one side, and the next thing I hear is a sickening wet crack. The man goes from reaching for his gun to sagging limply inside Victor’s chokehold, his head flopping off to one side.

Yet Victor doesn't let him go. I don't understand why, until the van door suddenly slides open, revealing three more guys inside. Keeping my attacker’s dead body in front of him, Victor pulls a gun from underneath his blazer jacket and aims it at the van.

The guys in the van have guns too, but they barely get the chance to raise them. Victor shoots three times with lethal precision. His gun must have a silencer attached. The shots sound like harmless bursts of air from where I’m standing. But all three guys jerk backward within milliseconds of each other from the impact of the bullets hitting them between the eyes.

They’re dead. They’re so dead. But Victor doesn’t leave it at that. He hauls his no longer needed dead body shield into the van with the rest of the guys. Then he releases more bullets into the four bodies until his gun is empty.

It's the underground garage in Tokyo all over again. But with three more guys and way faster. Fear and shock freeze me in place just like they did back then as I watch him slide the delivery van door closed. It can’t even be a minute after his arrival.

As soon as he disappears the grisly scene inside the van, Victor turns to look down at me.