Ilya’s jaw flexes sharply, and his eyes, hidden behind a pair of shooting glasses, stay locked on the target board ahead. His grip on the gun is tight, with his finger resting just an inch away from the trigger, and then he pulls the trigger. Bang. The recoil jerks through his arm, but Ilya barely feels it, and he repeats it three more times. Bang. Bang. Bang.Ilya looks at the target with bullet holes puncturing through it, and the one person that comes to his mind is Valen D’Avorin. He would look good with that many bullets in his body, wouldn’t he? Ilya would watch him bleed with glee.Ilya’s jaw locks tightly, and he does not attempt to lower his gun as anger floods his veins. Just a few days ago, he had never crossed paths with the syndicate’s heir; he had avoided him like a plague, and now, Valen was everywhere.In his fucking space, in his fucking head, and under his fucking skin.“Fucking bastard…” Ilya mutters under his breath as his grip tightens on the gun, and bang, the s
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