Reborn General: The Tycoon's Untamed Fiancée

erdosed socialite, but the air around her felt suddenly suffocating. The cold in her eyes was

orted. "Boss, the bitch is tripping on Ju

pens to smart-mouthed sluts," he growled, closing the five-foot gap be

, Rocco's movement was laughably slow. His balance was forward-hea

eat. That was the m

ck hand clawed empty air past her ear. Before he could recover his momentum, Justine drove her

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f the alley bricks. Rocco's sneer warped

nd his two-hundred-pound frame folded like wet car

us shouted, hi

lade, slashing toward her

s ahead. As Rocco went down, a rusted, eighteen-inch

th the toe of her designer heel, kicked it up into her palm,

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ist with surgical precision. Bone

ashing into the mud, while Gus shrieked, collapsing to

ooked at Rocco writhing in fetal convulsions, then at Gus

He spun around, scrambling

hblade from the mud, tested its balance in a single heartbe

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bber sole of the runner's sneaker, pinning his foot di

forehead hard against a rusted dumpster, knocking himself half-

ment time: e

broken men. The icy rain washed the mud fro

ng against the pavement with a slow, metallic scr

ot directly onto his windpipe, slowly applying

wn. "Let's review the terms of y

ood, his fingers clawing desperate

he reached down, took his index finger,

was muffled b

ly. "You have nine more fingers. When they are

ve grand cash! She said to ruin you on camera, then throw you in the river! S

confession,"

ight knuckles, pulverizing the remaining bones to ensure he could never hold

side, nestled beneath ruined makeup, was a pristine, mother-of-pearl

tinny, sweet lullaby chime

bloody molars during the fight. With two fingers, she lifted the blood

n

song, and tossed the pearl box o

mansion," Justine commanded, her voice ringing with the finality of an executi