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Elijah is coming for the girls. Get them in the panic room.
Once I’ve made sure that’s sent, I open a group message with Rayne and Tommy and shoot them a text as well.
Shipment will arrive soon. Elijah has gone to the estate to get the girls.
I almost don’t send the last part because Rayne might blow the whole mission at the idea Emerson in any danger, but I have to have faith he’ll trust Storm to take care of her.
By the time I shove my phone back into my pocket, three black SUVs are coming down the driveway telling me the truck isn’t far off. Thank fuck this is the last time I ever have to do this shit. I fucking hate pretending to be on this side, even if it does save innocent lives. The irony of that isn’t lost on me. I work for one of the most infamous crime families in the country and I’m talking about saving lives, but we have a conscience when it comes to women and children. Something that isn’t even in the vocabulary of the people of my bloodline. The Saint James family aren’t monsters like the Russos are. They’re good people involved in some shady shit.
The vibrating in my pocket almost makes me pull my phone back out, but it’s too risky. Messaging them in the first place was a risk I had to take, but I can’t do it again. As hard as it may be, I have to pray Storm got himself and the girls to safety the moment the first sign of an attack started.
61
Wynter
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Storm hisses the moment we’re left alone, tied to the chairs from the dining room and positioned in the middle of the lounge room.
“I was thinking Rayne would fucking die without Emerson, and Snow is my baby sister. Of course I fucking locked them in the panic room and played dumb to these idiots,” I growl, my eyes falling on the bleeding wound at his temple. The protective instinct calls to me to clean and dress the cut, but there’s no way out of the coarse ropes around my wrists.
I shouldn’t be surprised they brought the most abrasive rope they could find, and every time I try to wiggle my wrists through the knots, fresh cuts appear in my skin. But that hasn’t stopped me. This is not how I go down. I’m going to kill Everett if it’s the last thing I do. I’m going to look him point blank in the eye and shoot him so he knows exactly who ended his life. Anger has replaced some of the sadness, and at least I can use it to get me through the night. Because we will make it. We will get out of here. There’s no other option.
“Everett’s going to kill me when he finds out you’re not in that fucking panic room. The whole reason he built it was to keep you safe in an emergency,” he mutters.
“Don’t say his name,” I snap. It’s easier to channel my rage when I don’t associate him with the man I loved, the one who stole my heart and never gave it back.
Storm sighs. “He’s playing them, Wyn. He’s been playing them for years. He gets involved when we get wind of a trafficking shipment, we save the girls, and then he fucks off again until the next time.”
My eyes snap up to meet his, looking for any sign of a lie. “What do you mean?”
Storm looks around to make sure the men haven’t returned. So far, it’s only the two guys who grabbed me, but I’m sure there are others around here looking for something they can use against us. “It started a few years ago. Angelo got it in his head that dear old nephew was going to come back to the family, and so he invited Everett to the club to discuss potentially reconnecting. They needed him for something computer related, if I recall, and we started making plans. Those photos you saw in your office, they are of him, but whatever Angelo told you was probably fabricated. The man wouldn’t know the truth if it hit him in the fucking face.”
I stare at my brother for long moments. No one has ever pulled the wool over his eyes, never been able to fool him. The man has been three steps ahead in every challenge we’ve ever faced up until now. But what if he can’t see what’s right in front of him? What if this was Everett’s plan all along and now it’s coming to fruition Storm can’t see it for what it is?
“I know when I’m being played, Wynter, and Everett has never played me or anyone in this family. Everything he’s ever done has been to keep you safe. Those first few months after he left, I honestly thought he was going to die. He got into fights, drank himself stupid, and took so many drugs I’m surprised he still has any brain cells. I know you’re hurt. I know he hurt you and now you’re jumping to any conclusion that makes him the bad guy. But he’s not the villain here.”
I open my mouth to reply but quickly snap it shut when I hear voices in the hallway. It’s the two men from earlier but there’s another two voices that are almost too familiar. One belongs to the most ruthless man of the Russo family, and the other is someone much closer.
Charles?
Storm and I look at each other at the same time, his eyes filled with the same shock I’m feeling. Our head of security is in on this? He’s the rat?
The two bodies fill the room and I can’t help but allow my mouth to drop open at the sight of them together. Out of all the people I suspected to be the rat, Charles was never one of them, I don’t think I so much as considered him. He came to work for us shortly after I returned from college and he’s never been anything other than sweet. His kind green eyes are dark now, danger lurking behind them as he looks at me with disgust, but I can’t think of a single thing I could have done to make him so angry.
“The surprise when someone they trusted betrays them is always my favorite,” Elijah muses.
“Charles, you don’t have to do this,” Storm says calmly. There’s a reason he’s the one running the company. He has Dad’s calm demeanor while Rayne, Snow, and I have our mother’s fire.
“Oh, but I do.” Charles tears his glare from me and repositions it on my brother. “You did kill my brother after all, so I think it’s only fair I kill someone you love. Poetic justice and all that.”
Elijah sighs and flops down onto the lounge dramatically. I’ve met him a few times over the years and each time I have no idea what to think of him. “Everett isn’t going to be happy.”
“I don’t really give a fuck about him. We had a deal, Russo,” Charles growls, the bite in his voice causes me to flinch.
“We did,” he agrees.
“If we could find one of the other bitches I would reconsider.” His eyes turn back to me as if I’m the one with all the answers, but I keep my mouth shut. I’d rather die a thousand deaths than give up my sisters.
“Not Snow,” Elijah snaps, his forest green eyes darkening.
