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Billionaire's Accidental Wife novel Chapter 14

Chapter 14 Instead of complying, Hermano raised Peter higher, until the child’s rib cage was level with his open maw. Saliva and drop dripped from the tips of his teeth. “Put down your weapon, Brown or I swear I’m going to end his life.”

Dave didn’t move. He didn’t blink as much as blink. Holding his gun steady, he only hoped Hermano would believe his bluff.

“Chelsea,” he said calmly. “Move out of the way, baby.”

Hermano growled. “Don’t you take even one fucking step, Chelsea, or the next thing you’ll hear is this brat’s screams as I punch a hole through his sternum with my fist.”

Christie sobbed. Chelsea looked equally miserable, but she held herself together. She stared at Dave, shaking her head as if to warn him away from doing anything rash. Well, fuck that. He would do anything to get her out of this, but damn if he wanted to forfeit an innocent child’s life to accomplish it. He saw little choice but to try to catch Hermano off guard. In a split-second move, Dave took his shot, hitting him in the forearm. Hermano hissed as the bullet bit into his ravaged flesh.

As Dave hoped, he lost his grip on Peter. The boy dropped to the floor, unharmed.

But then, just as quickly, Hermano snatched up Chelsea and hauled her against him like a shield. She screamed. Arms trapped at her sides, she struggled in vain to break loose. The monster who held her only chuckled, seeming to delight in her terror. His glowing gaze was wild with madness. And dangerously smug triumph. Dave couldn’t contain the nasty curse that exploded out of him. He’d never known this kind of fear. He’d never felt the kind of bleak horror that raked him as he watched his mate sag into a resigned slump in her captor’s arms. Hermano tilted his head, those insane amber eyes studying Dave too closely. “What’s this?” he taunted. “Why, you look more than worried for this bitch, warrior. Am I taking something you thought belonged to you?”

“Let her go.”

He held his weapon steady on his target, but he knew damned well he would never pull the trigger. Not when he was staring at Chelsea’s beautiful, fear-stricken face.

If anything happened to her-for crissake, if she died right here at Hermano’s hands-he would burn the whole world down around him.

“Please,” he said woodenly, too afraid of losing her to care if he had to beg. “Let her go.” Hermano’s eyes narrowed on him. “You’ve fucked her.”

Dave bristled at the other male’s crudeness. He wanted to flay him just for uttering the words.

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A bark of laughter erupted from between the male’s cracked and blistered lips. “Holy hell. You love her. Don’t you, Brown?”

Chelsea made an anguished sound in the back of her throat. She shook her head at Dave, and as their eyes connected and held, he didn’t so much feel fear in their bond, but a strange and steely determination. “She’s no good to me,” Hermano muttered. He shrugged. “I might as well kill her now.” Hermano gripped her chin in his soot-blackened, blood-stained fingers. He yanked her head back, and Chelsea’s sharp cry tore into Dave. Her pain was real. But her terror had galvanized into something else. Something that told Dave to trust what he was feeling, not what he was seeing. “All right.” He relaxed his stance, lowering his weapon. “All right, you son of a bitch. You win.” Hermano stilled. Confusion swept over his feral features. His hold on Chelsea relaxed-ever so slightly. It was all the opportunity she needed. Twisting in the slackened cage of his arms, Chelsea drew the dagger she’d been concealing in her hand and drove it hard and fast and mercilessly into the center of his chest. He staggered back, a look of shock on his face. He howled, his face constricting in disbelief and agony. His body convulsed, collapsing to the

floor.

Dave was at Chelsea’s side in no time, pulling her close to him-holding her tight as the bastard took his last breath.

He was dead, and Chelsea was safe. Christie and her son had come through the ordeal uninjured too. As Dave held Chelsea in his embrace, he glanced to the door where Sebastian had now entered. The former army strode inside his house, his black gaze taking in the signs of struggle and the pile of ash still crackling on the floor. Then he looked to Christie and Peter, the pair of them huddled together nearby, and something crossed the remote male’s face. Relief, Dave thought. And maybe something more.

Regret?

Whatever it was, the emotion was there and gone in an instant. He gave Dave a sober nod, whether in confirmation of what he’d allowed him to see just then, or in acknowledgment of their teamwork tonight, Dave wasn’t sure.

He might have tried to decipher it, but right then, with Chelsea warm and alive in his arms and

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his heart full to the brim with love for her, the only thing on his mind was the well-being of his woman.

His brave, beautiful woman.

He couldn’t contain himself from dragging her to him for his kiss. She resisted a little, drawing back on a small groan. “Dave, I’m a mess. I have his blood on me… his foulness.”

“That won’t stop me from kissing you,” he told her gently. “Nothing is going to stop me from doing that ever again.” He pulled her closer, wrapping her in his embrace as he brushed his lips over hers in a slower claiming, a tender joining of their mouths that still had the power to inflame them both even after the ordeal they had just endured. Perhaps because of it too. But she was right. She had been through hell with Hermano. Not only tonight, but for the past three years as well. Now that the monster was no more, Dave wanted to erase all traces of him from Chelsea’s life. He swept his tongue across her soft lips on a groan that promised more. With Christie quietly tending to her son, Dave lifted his head to look at Sebastian. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to go draw a bath for my lady.” “Actually, I’d prefer a shower,” Chelsea interjected, glancing up at him wryly. “No more baths, at least not for a while.”

Dave chuckled. “Baby, whatever you want, it’s yours.”

“You, Dave.” Her soft brown gaze turned serious as she reached up and held his face in her warm, courageous hands. “You’re all I want. You are all I’m ever going to need.” “You have me,” he murmured quietly. “You have every part of me, sweet Chelsea. You always have.”

They kissed again, his love for her soaring in his chest, in his veins. Through their bond. Her love twined with his, and the depth of their connection was so profound it nearly brought him to his knees. He didn’t care that they had a small audience in the room with them. He didn’t care who knew how completely he adored Chelsea.

Loved her.

He wanted the whole world to understand that she was his.

 

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