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My breaths become more labored as I fight to keep calm. How did they know Ethan was basically living with me? How do they know what he does for a living? Were they watching me? They must have, because there’s no other way they’d know about him otherwise.
My father steps behind the couch, leaning over just enough to growl into my ear in some sort of twisted intimidation maneuver. “You can see the kind of position this puts me in, Elisabet. I promised my darling, virgin daughter to an up and coming leader in Bucharest’s underworld. Instead, I’ve found out she’s turned whore. So, what am I to do with you now, daughter?”
Suddenly, my father takes my throat in his hand, making me squirm as he forces me to face him. His fingers squeeze into my throat, threatening to make my windpipe close. My hands are too small and weak to pry them away, so all I can do is hold his gaze as his angry eyes bore into mine.
“The first thing I can do is take care of your little friend,” he states, his voice eerily quiet and calm, despite the rage coming off him in waves. “Let him be an example to you, no? Show him what happens to little people who fuck with my plans.”
“No!” I cry out, my voice scarcely more than a whisper because of his grip on my throat. “Leave him alone, please!”
My plea falls on deaf ears as my father throws me onto the floor and draws himself up to his full height. He barks something in Romanian to the room, and I hear men reply and start forthe door. My throat aches as I cough, air filling my lungs even though my neck still feels like it’s being crushed.
Tears begin to spatter on the floor as what’s happening catches up with me.
Please forgive me, Ethan, Mama. I couldn’t stop him in the end at all.
Chapter Eight
Ethan
When I woke up without Birdie next to me, my blood ran cold. The only thing in the bed with me was Baxter, and he looked just as confused as I did.
Then I found the note left on the nightstand.
And then I listened to the voicemails from Birdie’s security detail
All it took was another phone call to one of my seediest connections, and I was able to confirm my suspicions. Cristofor Vasile, alleged criminal and probable father to the woman I love, was staying at a hotel in the upscale part of the city. The same hotel that her guards had tailed her to—and, conveniently, one I oversaw the building of. With Birdie there and her likely family connection to him, I made the choice to trust my gut.
The men I’d had looking after Birdie are there to meet me, already formulating a plan to infiltrate the hotel suite Vasile was staying in. Minutes later, back up arrives in the form of more men from Johnny’s organization. They run me through how they usually operate for situations like this, and I give them information about the building and its layout. Together, we put together all the moving parts until a desired outcome becomes clear.
Luckily, Johnny’s foot soldiers are incredibly competent. Even with the number of men at Vasile’s disposal being high, they’re notoriously sloppy and should be easy for us to get past. Andwith the added incentive of a massive payout should this rescue effort be successful, my hired help and I put together an airtight plan in record time.
Sure, I could do it all myself. I’ve got the finesse and the power to do it. But I will spare no expense to get Birdie back in my arms, and with more men on my side, the greater our chances of success are. My pride is not worth my woman’s life, not when I can pay the very best in the business to assist me.
Getting up to the hotel suite is a blur. In my hypervigilance, I forget myself, letting my reactions and instincts become automatic. As soon as we get to the floor Vasile’s suite is on, we storm the two posted guards, leaving them sprawled on the floor behind us as we break the door down.
Every head in the room swings towards the door as it bursts open, practically flying off its hinges. Somehow, there’s even less men in here than we expected, which I can’t say doesn’t make me feel satisfied.
“Who the fuck are you?” a tall, well-dressed man spits at us. His accent betrays his identity before I even have the chance to recognize him.
When I see that he’s standing over Birdie’s prone form—her face is buried in her hands, but I’d recognize that blonde hair anywhere—I see red.
I surge forward, faster than Vasile can register, and connect my fist with his face. I throw my considerable weight into the punch and it shows. Instead of staggering back, he crumples in a heap after being sent flying, knocking over furniture as he goes.
“The man you stole your daughter from,” I growl at him, watching with satisfaction as his nose begins to stream blood all over his suit while his face begins to swell up.
All around me, I hear grunts and shouts as the men I brought with me make quick work of whatever’s left of Vasile’s men. It all becomes background noise as I bend to scoop Birdie up in my arms.
“Ethan!” Birdie sobs breathlessly, her hand grasping my shirt as I quickly make my way to the door. My part of the rescue effort is not yet over, but it’s going exactly to plan. Johnny’s men have their instructions, and all I have to do is get myself and Birdie out of their so that they can see them through. While I’d love to get my hands dirty taking my revenge, my reputation demands that I keep them clean when I can.
“What are they going to do to them?” Birdie whispers into my shirt as she holds me close.
“Whatever it is gangsters do to other gangsters,” I say as I slip back onto the elevator. I could put her down now, I suppose, but why would I do that when I can have her in my arms instead?
Birdie is silent as the elevator starts to go down, her brow furrowed as she processes my words.
“He wanted to kill you,” she finally says, voice scarcely more than a whisper. “My father didn’t like that you’d slept with me, said I was a whore for letting you have me.”
My gut curdles with sudden rage. Birdie whimpers as my arms tighten around her. The sound brings me out of it, and instead of letting my anger win, I press a kiss to her temple.
