His After The Heartbreak (BL) Chapter 170: The Rage Inside Me

Chapter 170- The Rage Inside

Declan's POV

"Beatrice!"

I called her na again.

And again.

And again.

But she wasn't answering .

She wasn't moving.

She wasn't even making a sound.

My hands gripped the steering wheel so hard I thought it was going to break.

"Beatrice, do not die here," I said through my teeth, my voice low and shaking.

"Beatrice, do not fucking die here!" I scread at the top of my lungs, like my voice could drag her back to life.

If only she had listened to .

I warned her. I fucking warned her not to touch that bullet.

I told her not to try anything stupid.

I told her to wait.

But she's so goddamn stubborn.

She never listens.

And now... now she's unconscious in the passenger seat, blood still pouring from her stomach.

She better not die.

I swear, she better not die.

Because I'm not ready to bury anybody.

The only person I want to bury right now is that motherfucking bastard that betrayed .

That piece of shit who thought he could stab in the back and get away with it.

Not even one of my guards thought twice.

Not one of them said, Oh no, Boss has been good to us. We can't do this to him.

Not a single fucking one of them hesitated.

They all planned it.

Every goddamn one of them.

Every fighter I trained.

Every guard I trusted with my life.

They all sold out.

For what?

"For two million dollars?" I hissed under my breath, slamming my hand against the steering wheel so hard it made a loud crack.

"Two fucking million?" I growled, my whole body shaking with rage.

Is that what I'm worth to them?

They were ready to kill ...

Ready to kill Beatrice...

All for money?

The anger was burning inside like a wildfire.

It wasn't just burning—it was eating alive.

I'm going to make them pay.

I'm going to fucking make sure they all pay.

Not just the ones who planned it.

Not just the ones who pulled the trigger.

No.

I'm going to wipe out every last one of them.

Every single guard.

Every single fighter.

Because they were all in it.

They all knew.

They all stayed quiet.

And for that—they're all going to die.

But I won't stop there.

No.

That would be too easy.

I'll kill the ones they love.

I'll destroy everything they care about.

Their hos, their families, their peace.

All of it.

Gone.

They think betrayal cos with a price?

Then I'll show them how expensive it really is.

"Fuck them!" I yelled, slamming my hand again.

"Fuck those bastards!" I cried out loud, my voice echoing inside the car.

I wasn't crying.

No.

But my heart...

My heart was bleeding.

They better hope Beatrice lives.

They better fucking pray she survives this,

because if she dies...

If she dies—

I'll beco sothing they've never seen before.

Sothing they'll wish was never created.

For a few seconds, I was lost in my own head.

Thinking of blood.

Thinking of revenge.

Thinking of how I was going to break bones and tear flesh from those motherfuckers who dared to betray .

Then suddenly—

Like lightning snapping across my brain—

I rembered Beatrice.

Shit.

Beatrice.

I had been so deep in my rage, so focused on killing those bastards, that I forgot she was bleeding beside .

Unconscious. Silent.

"Beatrice!" I shouted, eyes wide as I looked at her.

"Beatrice!!! Answer now!"

She didn't move.

Didn't flinch.

Didn't say a damn thing.

My heart dropped straight to my gut.

"Bitch, answer !" I yelled louder this ti, my voice shaking with panic I didn't want to admit was there.

But still—nothing.

I couldn't even stop the damn car.

I couldn't pull over.

I wasn't sure if they were still behind , watching, waiting.

If I stopped now and they caught up with , it was over. For both of us.

"Motherfucker, wake up!" I scread at her again, my throat burning.

Then finally—

A sound.

A soft, barely-there murmur.

"Let sleep... Declan..."

Her voice... it was fading. Like smoke.

That was not a good sign.

"No. No no no. Beatrice, please," I begged, leaning closer.

"Don't let go like this. Stay awake. I need you to stay awake."

I wasn't just shouting anymore—I was pleading.

Begging like a fucking child.

"Beatrice, please. Stay with , baby. Just stay awake. Don't close those damn eyes."

But it was like she wasn't there anymore.

Her head leaned against the seat like it weighed too much for her to hold up.

Her skin was pale, her lips dry.

It felt like she was already halfway gone.

"Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!" I cursed again, slamming my hand on the steering wheel until my knuckles hurt.

I swear with my life—

With everything I've got—

Those bastards are going to pay for this.

They're going to wish they never touched .

They're going to wish they never knew .

I won't just kill them.

No.

That would be too easy.

I'm going to make them suffer.

I'm going to make them bleed.

They'll feel pain they've never known.

They'll cry out for death. They'll beg for it.

But I won't give it to them.

Because death?

That's rcy.

And rcy is sothing they don't deserve.

They need to live.

Live long enough to feel what Beatrice is feeling right now.

To know what it ans to die slowly.

To taste death—but never touch it.

They're going to regret this.

David, that son of a bitch, led the betrayal—

But the rest of those good-for-nothing fools followed right behind him like blind sheep.

They all betrayed .

Every last one of them.

Wow.

Just fucking wow.

I groaned, deep from my chest, and slamd my hand into the steering wheel again.

The car shook under my strength, but it kept moving.

If this wasn't a strong car, it would've broken down from how many damn tis I've hit it tonight.

I glanced at the side mirror, scanning the road behind .

No headlights.

No cars.

No shadows following.

Finally—I breathed.

For the first ti in what felt like forever, I breathed out slowly, just once.

A short breath.

A small relief.

But it didn't last.

Because Beatrice was still beside .

Unconscious.

Bleeding.

Slipping.

And we weren't at the safehouse yet.

We weren't anywhere close to done.

Now I just need to find a place to stop.

Sowhere—anywhere—that I can try to save Beatrice.

I kept driving, eyes wide, heart slamming against my chest like a fucking hamr.

But even as I drove, my eyes went to the rearview mirror again

Beatrice.

She was lying still in the backseat, her body stretched across the chair like a lifeless doll.

The chair was soaked in blood.

So much blood.

I couldn't even recognize the color of the seat anymore.

It was just red. Wet. Dark. Sticky.

I squinted harder, leaning forward a little.

"Please," I muttered to myself. "I just need a sign. Just a damn sign that she's still alive. That she's not going to die on ."

My voice cracked when I said "die."

I never say that word unless I an it.

But this ti—I was scared.

Then I saw it.

Barely.

So small, so gentle—

Her chest moved.

It wasn't obvious.

Hell, if I hadn't been staring so hard, I would've missed it.

But she was breathing.

She was still breathing.

"Phew..." I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding. My hands shook a little.

"You better hold on, Beatrice," I whispered like she could hear . "Just a little more. I'm going to get you sowhere safe. Sowhere they can patch you up."