Chapter 190
[ 495 words ]
Chapter 190:
She looked entirely out of place among the suburban shoppers in their yoga pants. Beatrice wore a full Chanel pre-fall tweed suit, massive black designer sunglasses, and four-inch stilettos that clicked aggressively against the polished concrete floor.
She had been up all night at an exclusive Georgetown club and was nursing a pounding hangover. She had ordered her driver to pull over so she could buy a specific brand of gourmet dog treats to comfort herself over her missing pet.
Beatrice marched down the main center aisle, radiating furious, entitled energy.
As she passed the intersection of the pet aisle, she turned her head. Her eyes, behind the dark lenses, locked onto the bottom of the silver shopping cart parked ten feet away.
Beatrice stopped dead in her tracks. Her breath caught in her throat. She ripped the sunglasses off her face, her eyes widening in absolute shock.
There, sitting on the metal wire rack, was a black Cavapoo with a heart-shaped white patch on its chest.
Her dog.
Dі𝗌𝗰𝗼v𝘦r 𝗇е𝘸 ѕ𝘁o𝘳𝘪𝖾s 𝗈𝘯 𝘨𝖺𝗅𝘯𝗼𝘷𝘦𝗹ѕ.co𝗆
A wave of pure, explosive, blinding rage erupted in Beatrice’s chest. Blood rushed to her head.
“Doodles!” Beatrice shrieked. The sound was so loud and piercing it echoed across the entire supermarket.
Caroline jumped, startled by the sudden scream. She turned just in time to see a woman in a tweed suit charging at her like a rabid animal.
Beatrice didn’t slow down. She lowered her shoulder and slammed her body with full, violent force directly into Caroline.
The impact was brutal. Caroline, completely off guard and exhausted, was thrown backward, her spine crashing hard against the heavy metal shelving unit.
A dozen heavy cans of organic cat food cascaded off the shelf, crashing onto the floor around her feet with a deafening clatter.
Beatrice didn’t even look at the woman she had just assaulted. She lunged forward, reached into the bottom of the shopping cart, and violently yanked the dog out by its front legs.
The sudden, brutal jerk pulled directly on the dog’s freshly stitched surgical wound.
The dog let out a horrific, agonizing yelp of pure pain.
That sound — the cry of a helpless, injured animal — flipped a switch deep inside Caroline’s brain.
The exhausted, grieving civilian nurse instantly vanished. The lethal, highly trained CIA operative woke up.
Caroline’s gray eyes turned to shards of absolute ice. The pain in her back disappeared, replaced by a massive surge of combat adrenaline.
She pushed off the metal shelf and moved with terrifying, blinding speed.
Before Beatrice could turn to walk away, Caroline’s hand shot out. Her fingers clamped down on Beatrice’s tailored shoulder like a steel vice, her thumb digging directly into the nerve cluster near the collarbone.
Beatrice gasped, dropping to her knees as a sharp, paralyzing pain shot down her arm.
“Put the dog down,” Caroline commanded. Her voice was not loud. It was a low, vibrating, demonic whisper that carried the promise of absolute violence.
Beatrice twisted her head, her face contorted in pain and aristocratic fury. She glared up at Caroline’s cheap sweatpants and baseball cap.
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