“His consideration was misplaced.” Because Sarang had adjusted to life as the underboss, and he had no interest in giving it up. “He’ll need help running the business, but that can be arranged.”
“You’re going to let him keep it?” Tull frowned. “What about the Dominus?”
“What about him?”
“Will he agree?”
“I’m not asking for his approval.” This didn’t concern Kian. From here on out, whatever took place between Sarang and his omega was private and not up for outside debate.
There’d been no obvious movement since they’d arrived, and Sarang decided it was time to get things going. He hadn’t brought many men with him, a half dozen currently flooding the parking garage while another two or three blocked the remaining exits. It was unclear if any of them would be a match against Bishop, but it was worth a shot.
While he was a beta, and therefore should have been the weaker of their species, Bishop had always excelled at hand-to-hand combat, never shying away from fighting dirty.
In hindsight, Sarang should have put two and two together and grasped that he’d been personally trained by Shiloh.
The doors automatically slid open when they approached, and they entered into a vast lobby decorated in pale teals and golds. There was a long front desk made of gold-toned wood, with a holographic display sign flashing in the center.
“Seriously?” Tull scowled at the arrow pointing to the right down a long, wide hallway, but Sarang was already headed in that direction.
There was another arrow in front of the elevators, with the number ten beneath it. They stepped in and silently rode it up, only to find another pointing right again as soon as they came to a stop and the doors opened.
“This motherfucker,” Tull cursed. “He’s playing with us, right?”
“It seems he shares Shiloh’s love of games.”
“Fuckery, you mean.”
Sarang chuckled.
It took them ten whole minutes, but they eventually found Bishop in a medium sized conference room on the twenty-first floor.
He wasn’t alone.
“Friend of yours?” Sarang asked, stepping into the room carefully, scanning their surroundings as subtly as possible.
The room was only half finished, with chairs still wrapped in plastic tucked into the corner, and a projector still in its box. The beta stood on the opposite side of a large table big enough to sit thirty, with an unknown female seated in a plush leather wheely chair before him.
He held a sharp blade to her throat, and her fear was unmistakable.
“The Prince?” Bishop boldly stared him down.
“My omega is fine.”
“Have you given him the bite?” He clicked his tongue in displeasure when Sarang remained silent. “If you haven’t yet marked him, he isn’t yours.”
“We both know that’s not true.” Sarang motioned to the woman. “Who is this?”
“Don’t you recognize her?”
He took a moment to look at her more clearly, but he was drawing a blank. “I do not.”
“It was hard to find another one on this side of the galaxy, but I managed.”
“You’re saying you spent these past few weeks looking for this woman?” Sarang quirked a brow. “She and I have never met before. I don’t know who you think you caught, but—”
“A Gray,” he interrupted. “She’s one of you.”
“What the hell is he talking about?” Tullius glanced between them.
