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“Yeah, there’s one similarity. They all fucking burned. I said I’ll call you if we find anything.” He ends the call, only causing my anger to amplify.Bastard.
He seems to forget who pays for that lovely, big house of his.
When the warehouse caught fire, I thought about the fire that had started at Tyson Holbrook’s house three months ago. The fire that killed Tate.
Right after the fire at Tyson’s that King and I escaped from, I asked Detective Roberts to look further into it, and sure enough, he did. He confirmed that three bodies had been found, two men and one woman.Her.
Her body was discovered, yet I can’t shake the feeling that somehow, I received false information.
Now I can’t help but wonder about the person who started it. Tate may be dead now, but I don’t, for a second, believe that the threat to us is over—even if Rowen and King are naïve enough to believe it.
This fire proves it. Someone is coming after us. They’re launching a personal attack on the Triad. There will be hell to pay for the sorry fucker who believes he can come after us and succeed. It’s time we come together and take back the control of our city. Starting with the person responsible for setting fire to our businesses.
I’m pacing back and forth the length of the living room at the penthouse when the front door clicks open, and in walks King and Rowen. They’re each wearing a deadly expression that’s aimed right at me. It pains me that this is what has become of my brothers and me. Once so close, and now we’re barely able to be in the same room as each other.
“I’ve been on the phone with Vlad and Maverick, and they’re looking into it. Whoever set the fire was careful. They wiped the video footage, so they’re trying to see what they can recover, if anything,” King explains, making himself comfortable by getting a beer from the fridge and throwing himself on the couch.
Meanwhile, Rowen stays where he is, hands in his pockets and eyes narrowed in on me, and me alone.
Of my two brothers, Ro is the one taking Tate’s death the hardest. He’s the most guarded, and Tate was the first woman that he’s ever lowered his guard for and let in completely. He’s glaring at me, but I don’t have time to cuddle him. It’s been three months; it’s time to move the fuck on and get on with life.
I dismiss him with my eyes; my attention turning toward King. “Another fucking fire,” I growl. “This is unacceptable. Two of our businesses have gone up in flames. We need to take better security precautions.”
“Already a step ahead of you. Security has been increased at our most popular businesses, and we are working on getting extra employees involved so the rest of our businesses are protected,” King says from his spot on the couch, beer in hand, looking mighty fucking calm. His calmness enrages me.
I’m so angry and lost in my fury that I don’t even hear Ro’s phone ping. I don’t realize what’s happening until King pulls me out of my head by slapping my shoulder and shoving Rowen’s phone toward me.
I read the text on the screen, frowning.
Unknown:You help me, I’ll help you. Give me what I want, and I’ll give you what you want.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I snap, handing the phone back to King, who then tosses it to Rowen. “What the fuck does he want?”
“Three months ago, he wanted Tate. He took her, and now she’s dead. What else is there for him to want?” King replies, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Reply to the text. Ask what he thinks we want,” I say, making eye contact with Rowen for the first time in weeks. He doesn’t speak, only nods, then begins typing on his phone.
A few minutes later, it chimes again, and he turns the screen to allow King and me to see the response.
Unknown:Sebastian.
Rolling his eyes, King stands before speaking. “How the fuck does he expect us to know what he wants? He already got what he wanted three months ago.”
“It doesn’t make any sense. The texts stopped completely. Two of our businesses are burned to the ground, and the texts start back up,” I say, pacing the room. “That’s not a coincidence. This fucker is responsible.” Pulling my phone from the front pocket of my jeans, I dial Travis, a member of our tech team who’s able to dig into anyone we need him to.
He answers quickly, and I blurt out, “Travis, I need you to track the last number that texted Rowen’s phone. See if you can find anything out. Report back immediately.”
“Will do. Is it the unknown number again?”
“Yes. I know you couldn’t find anything last time, but it’s been three months since that last text, so I’m hoping the bastard got sloppy. Maybe we can get a location. Let me know right away if you find anything.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m going to Luigi’s and the warehouse. I’ll see if there’s anything left behind that we—or the police—missed the first time we were there,” Rowen says, not waiting for a response before he walks out the door, letting it slam behind him.
“I see he’s still got a stick up his ass.”
“What do you expect, Eli? He loved her, and you know that. You know their history, so I’m not sure why you’re so surprised that he’s taking it as hard as he is,” King scolds me, his eyes narrowing into a glare.
