Chapter 104 104
DAISY POV
I jerked hard against Diesel’s chest in fear, my fingers digging into his blood-stained shirt. My heart was pounding so hard it hurt.
The gunshot still rang in my ears.
Then it echoed again — loud and sharp.
But this time I knew the sound wasn’t coming from inside the room.
I lifted my head and looked at Diesel’s face. There was a small smile on his lips, calm and satisfied, even as blood continued to soak through his shirt.
I turned my head slightly. Donald’s men had frozen. Every one of them was staring in the same direction — toward the CCTV monitor on the wall.
Right there on the screen, Hawk and several of Diesel’s men were moving through the outer hallway. They were armed and already taking down the few guards left at the entrance. Another gunshot cracked through the monitor’s speakers.
“Told you that ass will be here soon,” Diesel said, his voice low and rough.
Of course he wasn’t surprised. He had already told me earlier that Hawk would come soon. He knew his brothers too well.
I let out a shaky breath. Relief washed over me. Hawk and the others were really here.
Diesel kept my hand in his for a moment longer, then gently let go. He looked at me, his storm-gray eyes steady despite the blood on his shoulder.
“You should finish up, Daisy,” he said quietly. He used his nose to point toward Donald, who was still slumped against the wall, breathing hard and bleeding.
He leaned in and kissed my forehead softly. The gentle press of his lips made my twisted stomach settle just a little.
“Take your time,” he muttered against my skin.
The fear was still thick in my throat, but I knew this was the moment. The man who had ruined my twenties was right there on the floor. This might be the only chance I would ever get.
I swallowed hard and took a step toward Donald. My legs felt weak, but I forced them to move. Diesel turned his attention to the remaining men, already moving to keep them away from me.
Donald looked up as I stopped a few feet in front of him. His face was swollen and bloody, but his eyes still held that ugly possessiveness.
I stood there, heart racing, trying to find the words I had carried for so long.
“You took two years of my life,” I said, my voice quieter than I wanted. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Two years. I was seventeen when my father used me as collateral and ran. I wasn’t even an adult yet, but you didn’t care. You made me work, scrape, hide, and bleed just to pay a debt that wasn’t mine. Every night I went to sleep wondering if I would wake up alive. Every morning I woke up scared that today would be the day you finally decided to break me.”
Donald’s lips twitched like he wanted to smile, but the pain stopped him. “And how the fuck is that my fault? Blame your deadbeat father — he sold your pretty ass out. Blame him for your bad luck, or tell Diesel to drag your father down here too when he fucks your damn pussy.”
The words hit me like a slap. He was right — my father had started it all. But this scumbag had enjoyed every second of it. No soul, no pity. Even when I had begged him back then, he had laughed.
I looked straight at him.
“Are you even sorry at all?”
Donald let out a pained laugh, but the hurt in his ribs cut it short. He coughed, blood bubbling at the corner of his mouth, then forced a mocking grin.
“Sorry?” He tilted his head, eyes flicking toward Diesel for a second before coming back to me. “Should I be sorry? Should I cry and beg you right now? Poor little Daisy, all grown up and still crying about the big bad man who waited for her to fill out nicely.” His voice dripped with fake sweetness as he did his best damage control. “Come on, sweetheart. I was patient with you. I could have taken you at seventeen, but I waited like a gentleman. Doesn’t that count for something? You should be thanking me for letting you ripen first.”
The way he said it — that twisted, mocking tone mixed with the fake puppy-dog look in his swollen eyes — made something snap inside me. I fought back the tears burning in my eyes, but the anger was stronger.
Without thinking, I stepped forward and slapped his bloody face as hard as I could.
The sound echoed in the room. Donald’s head snapped to the side. When he looked back at me, his cheek was redder, fresh blood trickling from his lip.
I stood there, breathing hard, my palm stinging.
“You’re disgusting,” I said, voice shaking but clear. “I don’t want your tears. I don’t want anything from you. I just wanted you to know that you don’t own me. You never did. And whatever happens to you now… you deserve it.”
I turned away from him before he could say another word. My legs still felt weak, but I walked back to Diesel’s side with my head up.
Diesel glanced down at me. His small smile returned for a second.
“Done?” he asked quietly.
I nodded. “Done.”
He took my hand again, his grip warm and firm.
“Good,” he said. “Then let’s go home.”