REBORN My Second Life I Became The Villianess (Nyxara) novel Chapter 134

His leg buckled underneath him with a sickening crunch, and he dropped to the floor, howling in pain as he clutched his knee.

I scrambled up to my feet, shaking out my stiff wrists. Russo's eyes went wide as saucers. He spun around, frantically reaching inside his jacket for the handgun tucked into his holster.

"You little bitch…" Russo cursed, his fingers fumbling with the grip of the gun. Before he could pull it free, I darted forward, grabbing the fallen steel pipe off the floor and swinging it like a baseball bat right into his wrist.

The heavy iron caught his arm with a loud thwack. Russo yelled out, dropping the gun as his wrist snapped. He stumbled backward, clutching his broken arm against his chest, his face was pale with shock and pain.

I stepped right up to him, kicking his dropped gun away across the concrete floor, and grabbed a fistful of his shirt collar, yanking him down so he had to look me right in the eye.

"You should have stayed hidden, Russo," I whispered, my voice steady and soft.

Before he could answer, the heavy front bay doors of the warehouse blew off their hinges with a deafening crash. Splintered wood and twisted metal flew everywhere as three black SUVs barreled right into the building.

Dad was out of the lead vehicle before it even came to a full stop, his weapon drawn and his eyes wild with absolute fury. Uncle and Jax piled out right behind him, guns up, ready to lay waste to the entire place. Dario opened the door and stopped dead in his tracks, as he scanned the room. He saw the two guys groaning on the floor, the snapped zip ties, and me standing over Russo with a steel pipe in my hand.

I let go of Russo's shirt, letting him slump like a sack of potatoes onto the dirty floor, and turned to look at Jax.

"What took you so long?" I asked, wiping a smudge of dust off my sleeve.

“Sorry Boss, I watched them take you.” Jax said and I rolled my eyes.

Dario froze in the middle of the warehouse floor. He stared at me, then down at Russo, who was curled up on the cold concrete clutching his broken arm and moaning in agony. Behind Dario, Dad, Uncle Pascal and Jax stepped through the wrecked doorway, their weapons raised, expecting a full-scale firefight and finding a bloodbath that was already completely over.

For a few seconds, the massive room was dead silent. The only sound was the hissing engine of the lead SUV idling near the blown-open bay doors and Russo’s pathetic whimpering.

Dad lowered his gun all the way, letting it hang loosely at his side. Dario walked across the debris-strewn floor, his eyes locked on me. His chest was still rising and falling fast, showing just how panicked he had been the second he hung up that phone call.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice low and tight, vibrating with leftover adrenaline.

"Do I look hurt?" I asked, dropping the steel pipe onto the floor with a loud, clattering thud. I brushed a speck of dust off the shoulder of my black turtleneck and looked right back at Dad. "These clowns couldn't fight their way out of a paper bag. It was pathetic."

Dad walked up beside Dario, looking down at Russo, then over at me with a slow, knowing smirk curving the corner of his mouth. My dad had always known I could handle myself, but seeing me standing over the last real threat to the family with a broken zip tie on my wrist clearly amused him.

"Looks like you missed all the fun, dad," I said, glancing over at him.

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