I glanced at the study door for the millionth time, then gave a snarl and pushed my chair backwards. Who the fuck was I kidding? I couldn’t concentrate worth a damn this morning. Not when I knew she was in her room above me…
I dragged my fingers through my hair and rose.
Christ, I didn’t need this. Not now, not when the goddamn wolves were circling. Hale was getting impatient—actually, no. He’d passed impatient a bombing ago—now he was hunting for a target, one he could take his frustration out on. He’d make an example of them. If there was one thing Haelstrom was good at doing, it was that—gutting someone he once trusted and hanging them out to dry.
I couldn’t be that person.
Not now…not ever.
I glanced at the door, my attention drawn to the memory of her standing in that room in the basement staring up at me with so much lust and torment. No, I had to keep my focus until Hale felt the honed edge of my own blade pressing down on his neck. Then he’d know…he’d know it had been me the entire time.
My phone vibrated on the desk in front of me. I snatched it up, glanced at the display, and answered. “Anything?”
“Yeah,” Carven muttered. “But you’re not going to like it.”
A sinking feeling swept through me. “Tell me.”
“So, I found where they were staying and it’s right in the middle of the Rossi stronghold.”
I clenched my jaw. That much I’d figured out for myself. Still, the confirmation was all I needed. “Did you track it down?”
“Yeah, and Creed Banks, as well.”
My stomach clenched as my heart pounded. “Is he still there?”
“No.”
I scowled. “Go on.”
“According to the satellite footage, he was dragged in there by his two sons…and carried out—in a fucking body bag.”
“Shit!” I paced, thinking…
“That’s not the only thing.” He made me stop cold. “The car he was hauled into belongs to a doctor at Sacred Heart. Looks like he rocked up not long before they carried him out.”
“Rossi’s man?”
“By the looks of it.”
“Fuck.” I closed my eyes, as if this could get any worse. “I needed him. I fucking needed him.” Carven said nothing. Because what was there to say? “Do you have the details on this doctor?”
“Sending them now.”
“If Banks is out, then it’ll only be a matter of time before they link the warehouse to us,” I muttered, spilling my fears out loud. “They’ll come for Castlemaine and they’ll wipe us out to do it. They’ll tear him apart to get to King and there won’t be a damn thing I can do to stop them.”
“Do we move him?”
Thinking…thinking…thinking. “No,” I muttered as pieces started to fall into place. “We just give them a new trail to follow. One that will lead them back to the Rossis.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Am I sure if it’s him or us?” I answered. “Yeah, I am.”
My phone beeped in my hand. “Then it’s all there, and London?”
“Yeah?”
“Check in on my brother before you leave?”
As if he had to ask. “Of course.”
I hung up the call and pulled up the doctor’s details. Lucas DeLuca, Emergency Medicine, Sacred Heart. The photo that filled the screen was a nice-looking guy. A stand-up guy, by the looks of it. So how in the fuck did he get mixed up with the Rossis?
There was only one way to find out. I grabbed my jacket from the back of my chair and rolled my sleeves down as I pocketed my phone. I only hoped I didn’t need to hurt him. But I would…and I wouldn’t think twice about it, either.
I made my way out of the study, not bothering to close the door this time. It made no difference, did it? The tightness at the corner of my mouth tugged higher. No, it didn’t matter a damn, not when you had the most infuriating woman that God ever put breath into living under your roof, eating your food, and messing up your goddamn bed.
My gaze narrowed as I made for the kitchen. The low hiss of something searing filled my ears before the smell of steak wafted through the air. Instantly, my mouth watered.
“Frances,” I murmured, catching the chef’s attention as he gently turned the Wagyu strip and placed it carefully on a plate. “Everything set for tonight?”
His crisp, white double-breasted jacket was spotless, not even a smear, as the four-star Michelin chef gave a nod and answered in a thick French accent. “Yes, Mr. St. James. Everything will be prepared exactly as you instructed.
“Good.” I gave a smile. “Colt will enjoy the tasting.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” he waved the tongs in the air like a weapon. “He’s already had a ten-egg omelet and a massive fruit platter this morning. I’m surprised I haven’t received another text already. For someone who’s just had surgery, he’s doing surprisingly well.”
“Surgery.”
“On his appendix, sir.”
“Oh.” I nodded. “Of course.”
The chef gave a scowl for a second before turning back to the stove and busying himself with the rest of the trial for tonight’s dinner. I left him muttering in French. I could only expect it had something to do with the fact I’d apparently had no idea my own son had even had surgery. But if the chef had an opinion, he kept it to himself.
Because he understood the assignment.
And the penalties for divulging anything that went on within these walls.
All of my staff did.
I passed the dining room and caught sight of my main steward as he set out the dining table. Black. Red. Understated, and no barrier against the glass. Those were the instructions and by the looks of it, he was delivering. “Guild.”
“Mr. St. James.” He gave a nod.
I left them behind and headed for the stairs. Christ, my damn heart was fluttering. Thoughts of tomorrow night’s dinner pushed in, filling me with fear, disgust, and self-loathing. So I focused on the meal tonight, one set for two. I glanced at her closed door and went along to the twins’ room. If she didn’t want to be a prisoner, then she would eat with me.
No more meals delivered to her room…
No matter how much I’d enjoyed making them for her.
It was time to test that defiance, stretch her until she reached her limit…then stretch her a little more.
My breaths deepened with the thought. The hunger plunged all the way down to my cock. Fuck, I wanted to stretch her. I wanted her dripping, aching, and filled to the fucking brim.
But that would come.
As soon as Hale signed the goddamn contract.
I lifted my hand, knocked gently on the door, then pushed it open. Colt was sitting at the desk, head down, quiet as he busied himself.
“New console, huh?” I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall.
The son was bare-chested, apart from the white bandage taped around his middle, holding the padded dressing on his side in place. Hard muscles bunched as he moved, leaning over to attach cords into the back of the console, giving me a view of his back.
Surgery on his appendix…Frances’s words filled me as I stared at the mess that was Colt’s back. Thick silver scars slashed across the middle, peppered with small cigarette burns. But they were nothing compared to the criss-crossed jagged lines that marred his front. There were neat ones too, made by a surgeon’s steady hand as he’d tried to undo the damage done to the boy.
So many fucking surgeries.
And so many goddamn beatings.
It was a miracle he’d survived.
He didn’t glance my way, nor did he stop what he was doing. Only once did he turn away…to adjust the view on his phone toward where he worked. The screen drew my gaze and I stiffened at the sight.
His phone sat on its side, braced in a holder to allow him to watch the CCTV footage on the screen. Vivienne was in her bedroom, a towel wrapped around her middle. Her long hair was wet, fresh from the shower. I scowled, then turned back to this son who spied on her…just like I did.
He held her hand, London. Carven’s voice echoed in my head as I watched Colt glance at the camera feed, watching her before he switched on the curved monitor in front of him and pulled over the console. The console bought to replace the one she’d smashed. The only thing that brought Colt any peace.
But as I watched the male work, sneaking glances at her as she rubbed lotion along her bare legs all the way to the juncture of the towel, I realized he didn’t care about the game anymore. He had something else to occupy his time. And for the first time in his entire life, I watched my twenty-one-year-old, brutally damaged son become infatuated.
“You feel it, too, don’t you?”
He glanced my way, those ocean-blue eyes darker than I’d ever seen them. But it wasn’t with jealousy, or rage. They were dark with desire. Because that is what she invoked in us, wasn’t it? Her bloodline be damned, this madness was deeper than hunger, crueler than greed.
She thought that’s all she was to us.
I looked at the phone angled just where he wanted.
She was wrong.
I turned back to Colt as he gave one slow nod.
A flare of jealousy ignited, until it was snuffed out by that need to protect her. Because now she would be protected by the most dangerous of us all. I gave him a smile, then turned away. “Watch her, son. Watch her, and protect her with your life.”
Those words carried me all the way to the garage. I left the smells and the bustle of the house staff behind and climbed into the Audi. I could trust my sons to do more than hunt and kill for me now. I could trust them with her.
I drove across the city, pulling into the parking lot outside the tired looking city hospital. Mottled gray walls divided the rows upon rows of glinting windows that reached sky high. Patients spilled out of the automatic double doors at the emergency entrance. I climbed out, locked the car, and crossed the street, heading for them.
They stared as I walked past, adjusted my jacket into place, and stepped through the doors into the seventh level of Hell. Crying children, yelling men. People sat huddled against the walls, cramming every inch of the waiting room and front desk area.
“I told you once before. No insurance, no doctor.” A large, tired-looking triage nurse shook her head at a young mother with a screaming baby on her hip.
I didn’t wait, didn’t see them. I couldn’t afford to see them. Instead, I stepped around her, stopped at the desk, and drew the triage nurse’s stare. “Oh, no way did I just see you cut the line here, Mr.—” she scanned me up and down, her stare slowing. “Fine-ass specimen of a man. Tell me, gorgeous, what can I do for you?” she beamed.
I gave her a smirk and leaned closer. “I’m looking for a Lucas DeLuca, is there any chance…” I searched her chest for a name badge. “Rochelle, that you might direct me to him?”
“Doctor DeLuca?” Her eyes widened, sparkling. “Why yes, he’s in his office.” She lifted her hand and pointed along the hallway. “Straight down there on the right.”
I gave her a wink, then watched as she flushed, and grinned. But the smile slipped as I glanced at the young mother and her crying baby. She saw it, the act, the pretense. I gave her a nod before I turned around and walked away.
The sounds. The smells.
They hit me almost harder than I could bear.
I swallowed hard, then reached into my pocket, pulled out black leather gloves, and slipped them on. I didn’t want to see the children in pain, or their frantic parents pacing the hallways, desperate to ease their child’s pain. I wasn’t a man of emotions, nor was I kind.
But the sight of those small, helpless infants did something to me. Something I allow. It made me question…
I tore my gaze away, tugged the gloves into place, and clipped the strap around my wrist as I glimpsed a closed door toward the end of the hallway. Nurses shuffled in and out of the break room on the opposite side. The women stared, the men scanned me up and down. But I paid them no mind. I turned my focus to the darkened office before I bore down on the handle and slipped inside.
It was quiet, too quiet, before soft snores came from the floor toward the back of the room. I moved quietly around the desk, one that was stacked with folders that towered over everything else. Why on earth anyone would subject themselves to this, I had no idea.
The snores were deep and steady and muffled the sound of my steps as I neared the small cot shoved into the corner of the room. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my gun and silencer as I stood over the…Rossi fool. A kick at the end of the bunk, and I waited for the snores to stop. But they didn’t. The man slept like the dead, but I supposed he kept enough of them for company. I kicked again, only harder this time.
His eyes snapped open, his gaze shifting instantly to me as I stepped closer and kneeled down.
I’d expected confusion.
I’d expected fear.
I’d expected the man to start fumbling and blubbering or at least scream for security.
But the doctor didn’t do any of those things, not even when I lifted my hand, glanced at the glove wrapped around my gun, and spoke. “I assumed the hours here at the hospital were insurmountable, doctor. On top of the house calls you make.”
“Wait, I—”
I didn’t give him a chance to finish, just slapped my hand against his mouth, lifted the gun, and pressed the silencer to his head. “You won’t talk, do you understand me? You won’t say a word until I tell you to. You’ll be quiet and patient, and when I ask you the questions I’m here for, you’ll answer. Because if you don’t, I’ll splatter your brains all over your office wall. Do I make myself clear?”
My palm warmed with the heat of his heavy breaths, then he slowly nodded.
“Good. Now, the safehouse you attended for Benjamin Rossi. You met with three men, correct?”
His eyes widened. The bloodshot whites were almost neon in the dark as he shook his head.
“No?” I slid my hand from his mouth, my finger ready around the trigger.
“No,” he answered. “I met with two, the third was already dead when I got there.”
“He was already dead?” My mind raced as it conjured up various scenarios, trying to find one that’d fit.
The last we knew of Creed Banks was him leaving The Order after he’d tried to get Elle Castlemaine to leave. The video footage of that night still played out inside my head. I’d watched it over and over again in the hours after Ryth’s capture, trying to get a step ahead of Riven.
But I’d been too late.
I still kicked myself at the missed opportunity to get to King.
Or capture one of his men as they stormed The Order.
“They killed him?” I focused, meeting his stare.
“They didn’t say and I don’t assume.”
“Huh,” I muttered as my finger moved from the trigger. Still, I didn’t lower the gun. “The body, where is it?”
“Somewhere safe.”
Anger flared, sending a chill through me. “That wasn’t what I asked. Where is the body?”
“No.” He shook his head. “You’re not getting it, I promised…”
I pressed the gun harder against his skull. “Right now, I’m the only thing that stands between them and those who seek to take Ryth and kill her brothers. So believe me when I tell you, I’ll do whatever it takes to prevent that from happening. But only because it serves my interests. Now, you don’t want my interests to change, do you, doctor?”
He held my stare for a second before he slowly shook his head.
“There are far worse men out there than me, believe me. I need to keep those men occupied, I need to keep them looking somewhere else. So, I’m going to ask one more time…where is the body?”
“It’s at a holding facility off Beauchamp Place.”
“A holding facility?”
“Where we burn the bodies of those who have no insurance. But it’s safe. I have it stowed away so they won’t destroy it without my approval.”
That twitch came at the corner of my eye. I knew about places like that where they piled the dead in the refrigerated units and had the furnace running twenty-four hours a day. I pulled the gun away and slowly rose. “I’m going to need that address, Doc. Now, I’m going to trust that you’ll keep quiet about this little meeting. I can trust you, right?”
He swallowed hard and slowly pushed up. The guy looked fit and strong. But he also looked exhausted. He rose from the cot and slowly made his way to the smothered desk, then fumbled for a pen and a notepad. The sound of his scrawl was punctured by the tearing of paper.
He turned and held it out, meeting my stare. “Ryth and the guys…”
“Are safe.” I took the paper. “For now. How long that lasts is a mixture of variables. Some I can control, others I can’t.” I held up the paper. “Now, you won’t be calling the Rossis about this, will you?”
He flinched and his voice deepened. “No. I won’t.”
I just gave a nod, unscrewed the silencer from the gun, and slipped it back into my pocket as I made my way around his desk. His hard exhale reached me as I grabbed the handle of his door and stopped. “Oh, and one more thing, doctor. Get some sleep, you look like hell.”
Then I left, kept my eyes down, and slowly worked my gloves off before tucking them back into my pocket. Rochelle was busy when I slipped past, fighting with another faceless person in need.
But I didn’t see them.
I didn’t see anyone.
Just made my way back to the Audi, that slip of paper clenched in my hand. Could I trust the good doctor to hold up his end of the bargain and keep his mouth shut? I didn’t know, and I sure as hell wasn’t about to find out.
I started the engine and pressed the contact on the screen, waiting for it to answer. Carven was still out, still hunting. I gave him the details as I drove. He was suspicious, but eager. If there was anything that the sons had on their side, it was speed and accuracy. They were the weapon you didn’t see coming.
By the time I drove to the exclusive boutique store on the upper side of the city, Carven had all the information he needed. I pulled in and switched off the ignition before I leaned forward and hit the button for the glove compartment. With the gun and the silencer stowed away, I climbed out.
Cars swept past as I buttoned my jacket, then stepped out, closed the door, and locked it behind me. For these perfect moments, I wasn’t the ruthless bastard, nor was I the hunter. I stepped up to the door and pressed the doorbell, then waited.
It was answered quickly by a stunning brunette. Her eyes brightened and her red lips stretched wide in a smile. “Mr. St. James, please, come in.”
I gave her a curt nod and stepped in. The delicate scent of flowers washed over me as I made my way into the store. The place was empty, just how I liked it. “Did it arrive?”
“Oh, yes, it most certainly did. Would you like to see it?”
“Please.”
She left and returned seconds later with a large rectangular box she placed on top of a glass display case. I waited while the top was removed and she plunged her hands under the black tissue paper to draw the dress free.
Black.
Floor length.
Exquisite.
She stepped around the counter as she swept the garment across her arm. “Your wife is sure lucky.”
All I saw was the thigh-high split.
And that soft fabric against her tanned skin.
All I saw was black. Black she’d wear for me.
“If you’d like, I could try the dress on for you…” she murmured carefully. “So you can see it against skin.”
I knew what she wanted. It wasn’t the first time the attendant had made her intentions perfectly known. I’d been polite before, discreetly feigning ignorance. But the woman just wouldn’t take the hint. I met her gaze. “No, and if you act inappropriately toward me again, I’ll have you fired.”
The smile on her face faltered, then plunged headlong into terror.
“Now, the shoes,” I murmured as I held her stare and watched the fear in her eyes like it was a blood sport.
Anger seethed inside me. As hard as I tried to push Haelstrom’s words away, they slithered back…
Friday evening. I expect you at my side, ally. Ophelia will be there, she’s specifically requested your attendance.
A shiver passed through me. But instead of fear, I tasted rage.
The kind that pushed me closer to that dangerous edge.
I narrowed in on the attendant in front of me and kept my voice utterly controlled. “Now, the shoes…”
