Chapter 177

• Vincent watched, wide-eyed. So much blood. So much of it. It made him sick. The feeling of throwing up had been so strong for a couple of minutes, his chest felt like it had caught fire, consuming every last hope of escaping this shithole alive. There was nothing he could do to make it stop. Neither blood nor nausea. Absolutely nothing. He knew his father was capable of many horrific crimes, but this…
• Plumes of smoke billowed from the muzzle of the gun, and everything in the room came to a standstill for a fraction of a second. As if they all were made of rock and cardboard, preserved in a museum for the eyes of the beholders. Then, with a hard thud, something landed on the floor. The pistol slid from Natasha’s grasp, crashing to the ground, and scooting out of reach.
• Natasha groaned, clutching her stomach firmly, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. “What the fuck did you do?” She sobbed on the floor, her eyes tearing as the pain intensified.