My Dad Tried to Kill Me, for His Mistress' Son - Chapter 7: Chapter 7
You are reading My Dad Tried to Kill Me, for His Mistress' Son, Chapter 7: Chapter 7. Read more chapters of My Dad Tried to Kill Me, for His Mistress' Son.
I fought like hell against their grip, but the harder I struggled, the tighter they clamped down. This wasn't just about me anymore—my mother's life hung in the balance.
As I writhed against the hands holding me, whispers spread through the clueless crowd like wildfire.
"She seems totally normal!" someone hissed. "That's how it always is—they seem fine until they snap!"
"Tell me about it," another muttered. "Saw a psych patient at County General last year—guy was chatting one minute, pulled a blade on a nurse the next!"
"Jesus! Somebody sedate her already! Call psych before she hurts someone!"
Pure adrenaline shot through me as I bucked harder, but it was no use. My vision tunneled as my father moved to sign that damn waiver—the death warrant for my mother.
Eden stood beside him, shooting me that trademark smirk of hers. To them, I was just a fish flopping on the dock, waiting for the knife.
Just as despair started closing in—BAM! The doors exploded open.
A squad of black-clad giants stormed in, moving with military precision. Before anyone could blink, they dismantled my captors in a brutal ballet of punches and kicks that left them groaning on the floor.
These weren't rent-a-cops. These were professionals.
Then came the voice—razor-sharp and dripping with menace: "Who the FUCK touches my niece?"
The room went dead silent.
In walked a middle-aged powerhouse dressed like Miami Vice meets Sopranos—floral shirt straining over his barrel chest, gold chains glinting at his open collar, mirrored shades hiding his eyes. The man oozed danger and authority.
I froze.
This... was my uncle? Over the phone I'd guessed he had a temper. In person? The guy could silence a room just by walking into it.
My dad and Eden stood rooted, jaws practically on the floor as my uncle strolled toward me with that easy, predatory grace. When he reached me, he ruffled my hair—gentle as you please—and said, "Elle?"
I nodded like crazy, tears threatening to spill. "Uncle!"
His gaze locked onto my swollen cheek. That's when his voice went quiet—the kind of quiet that makes your balls crawl up inside you. "Who hit you?"
I didn't hesitate. My eyes cut straight to my father. The color drained from his face as he stammered, "W-who are you? I was just disciplining my—"
CRACK! My uncle's backhand sent Dad spinning. Before he could hit the ground, a brutal kick launched him clear across the room. He landed in a whimpering heap, clutching his gut.
Eden went sheet-white. She tried to tough it out, but her voice shook: "You can't just—"
THUD. Uncle's boot met her ribs, sending her flying too. I'd be lying if I said watching them eat linoleum wasn't deeply satisfying.
That's when hospital security came charging in—only to find themselves staring down the barrel of my uncle's security team.
As I writhed against the hands holding me, whispers spread through the clueless crowd like wildfire.
"She seems totally normal!" someone hissed. "That's how it always is—they seem fine until they snap!"
"Tell me about it," another muttered. "Saw a psych patient at County General last year—guy was chatting one minute, pulled a blade on a nurse the next!"
"Jesus! Somebody sedate her already! Call psych before she hurts someone!"
Pure adrenaline shot through me as I bucked harder, but it was no use. My vision tunneled as my father moved to sign that damn waiver—the death warrant for my mother.
Eden stood beside him, shooting me that trademark smirk of hers. To them, I was just a fish flopping on the dock, waiting for the knife.
Just as despair started closing in—BAM! The doors exploded open.
A squad of black-clad giants stormed in, moving with military precision. Before anyone could blink, they dismantled my captors in a brutal ballet of punches and kicks that left them groaning on the floor.
These weren't rent-a-cops. These were professionals.
Then came the voice—razor-sharp and dripping with menace: "Who the FUCK touches my niece?"
The room went dead silent.
In walked a middle-aged powerhouse dressed like Miami Vice meets Sopranos—floral shirt straining over his barrel chest, gold chains glinting at his open collar, mirrored shades hiding his eyes. The man oozed danger and authority.
I froze.
This... was my uncle? Over the phone I'd guessed he had a temper. In person? The guy could silence a room just by walking into it.
My dad and Eden stood rooted, jaws practically on the floor as my uncle strolled toward me with that easy, predatory grace. When he reached me, he ruffled my hair—gentle as you please—and said, "Elle?"
I nodded like crazy, tears threatening to spill. "Uncle!"
His gaze locked onto my swollen cheek. That's when his voice went quiet—the kind of quiet that makes your balls crawl up inside you. "Who hit you?"
I didn't hesitate. My eyes cut straight to my father. The color drained from his face as he stammered, "W-who are you? I was just disciplining my—"
CRACK! My uncle's backhand sent Dad spinning. Before he could hit the ground, a brutal kick launched him clear across the room. He landed in a whimpering heap, clutching his gut.
Eden went sheet-white. She tried to tough it out, but her voice shook: "You can't just—"
THUD. Uncle's boot met her ribs, sending her flying too. I'd be lying if I said watching them eat linoleum wasn't deeply satisfying.
That's when hospital security came charging in—only to find themselves staring down the barrel of my uncle's security team.
End of My Dad Tried to Kill Me, for His Mistress' Son Chapter 7. Continue reading Chapter 8 or return to My Dad Tried to Kill Me, for His Mistress' Son book page.