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“That can be arranged, son.”
“I’m not your son,” I snap.
He chuckles. “Oh, I know. I would never raise a little cunt like you. My own son would be strong and willing to do whatever is required of him to serve the family business. Which we both know you never could. Perhaps once Mia is back where she belongs, I can start working on getting myself an heir. She’s not good for much anymore, but she’d still make pretty babies.”
I was wrong.
Those are the words that set off the beast I’ve held at bay for all these years. The one who tore apart my fucking apartment with my bare hands the day Mia was taken. The one who beat my foster father to death with nothing more than my fists. I never wanted Mia to see me like this, but I’m beyond saving right now.
“I’m going to kill you so fucking slowly you’ll beg for death. You’ll beg for mercy. But when you beg, you’ll only prolong it more. More torture. More body parts severed. So much more fucking pain until your heart gives out.” I chuckle as the thought brings me too much joy. “But I won’t let a little thing like a heart attack stop my fun. I’ll have a doctor on standby to bring you back just so we can keep playing. Doesn’t that sound like fun?” I snarl.
A gasp from the kitchen drags my attention back to Mia. Her eyes are wide, her mouth agape in surprise, but she’s not afraid. Or at least I don’t think she is. She’s still holding the wooden spoon, and Emerson has moved closer to her, as if expecting her to fall apart hearing my anger. But Mia knows who I’m talking to, and she wouldn’t exactly be upset if all the things I’ve just described actually happened to the man who caused her so much pain.
There’s silence on the other end of the line, and I pull the phone away from my ear to check if the call is still connected, watching as Rayne’s thumbs fly across his own phone screen.
“You talk a big game, kid. You better hope you can back it up because a man is only as good as his word.”
Before I can reply, the line goes dead, and I drop the phone to the table without hesitation. Everett will be working on tracking the motherfucker, and I have other shit to do right now.
I prowl toward Mia, her eyes widening the closer I get, and I notice Emerson looking between us out of the corner of my eye, searching Mia for fear and me for ill intent. But despite only knowing one another for such a short amount of time, she knows I would never hurt Mia. They wouldn’t have left her here with me if she did. They would have squirreled her away to the Saint James estate or to the penthouse a few blocks away that she shares with Rayne. They know Mia is in no danger when she’s here with me.
“Looks like we should be getting going, sweet girl,” Rayne says behind me, the telltale sign of a smirk in his words. Asshole.
Emerson shakes her head with an amused smile and reaches for the stove, turning the dials until the flames beneath the pots disappear. “I think you’re in trouble,” she whispers to Mia.
“Oh, Mia’s in a fucking world of trouble,” I confirm, and I don’t miss the lust that moves through her eyes. I may be pissed as hell, but I’m searching for uncertainty, for fear. But there’s neither in her gaze.
Only need.
I round the bench just as Rayne wraps his arm around Emerson’s waist and steers her toward the elevator. “I’ll let you know if Everett gets a hit on fuckface’s location.”
“Thanks,” I reply without tearing my eyes off Mia.
“Have fun,” Emerson singsongs, taking a second to check Mia for fear once more before they reach the elevator.
The moment I reach her, I dip my head and quickly throw her over my shoulder, not giving her a moment to right herself before I head toward the stairs.
My girl is about to learn that there are to be no secrets between us.
Ever.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
MIA
Iknew he’d be mad when he found out. I just figured I would be long gone and wouldn’t have to face the consequences.
I also thought his reaction would be to yell at me, but he hasn’t said a word since he threw me over his shoulder.
Each step he takes up the stairs lifts his shoulder into my stomach, but his hold on me is firm but gentle. Two words I didn’t think belonged together, and yet here we are.
Rather than turning to the left for my bedroom, he heads to the right, and my stomach flutters with nervous anticipation. After my meltdown this afternoon, I thought it would be a while before he’d touch me again, thinking I’d need time to get back to where we were. But I want to enjoy my time with Ace for as long as I can, and he hasn’t scared me with anything he’s done. Not in a way I didn’t enjoy anyway.
It turns out I enjoy being scared during sex, or perhaps that’s what I’ve been programmed to like, but I don’t allow myself too long to think about it, knowing that’s the quickest way for me to spiral.
As soon as we enter the room, he deposits me in the middle of the bed and stares down at me with fire in his eyes. He’s fucking pissed, and I don’t blame him.
I knew I was playing with fire. I knew he was going to find out eventually, and I have to deal with whatever he has planned for me.
