Chapter 12 - The Executioner's Mercy
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“Drop the knife, Teddy,” Rafe ordered, his voice echoing with absolute, lethal authority.
Teddy froze, blood streaming down the side of his face from the skillet blow. He looked at the gun, then at Rafe, a desperate, feral panic setting in.
“You won't shoot me in your own house, Rafe,” Teddy spat, though his hand trembled. “The police will ask too many questions.”
“You assume I’m going to call the police,” Rafe replied smoothly, stepping fully into the kitchen. Ezra appeared behind him, similarly armed.
Teddy realized he was entirely outmatched. The knife clattered to the tile floor.
“Get on your knees,” Rafe commanded.
Teddy slowly lowered himself to the floor, his arrogant facade completely shattered.
Rafe didn't look at the mercenary. He turned his gaze to Nell, seeing the blood dripping from the cut on her arm. The cold, calculating mafia boss vanished, replaced by a man violently protective of the woman bleeding in front of him.
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Rafe asked, his voice softening just a fraction.
“No,” Nell breathed, clutching her arm.
Rafe turned back to Teddy, the softness evaporating instantly.
“You came into my house. You threatened a woman under my protection,” Rafe whispered, stepping closer to the kneeling man. “Who gave the order?”
“Bruno,” Teddy confessed rapidly, desperate to save his own life. “He knew she heard us. He told me to silence her before the board meeting tomorrow.”
“And the warehouse?”
“Bruno paid me. It was a distraction.”
Rafe nodded slowly. “Take him to the soundproof holding cells in the basement,” he ordered Ezra. “He’s going to sing a very beautiful song for the board tomorrow night.”
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As Ezra dragged a weeping Teddy out of the kitchen, Rafe walked over to Nell. He didn't ask for permission. He gently took her injured arm, inspecting the shallow cut with terrifying tenderness.
“I’m taking you upstairs,” Rafe murmured. “And I am never letting you out of my sight again.”
