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“Not when I’m having so much fun,” Devon said, his tone full of amusement. “I knew if I waited long enough that you couldn’t resist her.”
Her. He acted as if his own flesh and blood meant nothing to him, merely a commodity to be sold to the highest bidder. I wanted to rip out his throat with my bare hand. “She doesn’t belong to you.”
“And she’ll never want you after she learns the truth about what you did to Annie.”
Annie. The woman we’d both loved, the one who’d sacrificed herself instead of being forced to choose. I closed my eyes, envisioning the day she died. He was to blame, his demands pushing her to the edge.
I tamped back another wave of anger, snorting as I swerved around another set of vehicles. “I didn’t take you for a coward, Devon. Why don’t you say that to my face?”
“You don’t know me at all, my friend. I’ve changed. I don’t need to wallow in despair any longer. By the way. Did you enjoy the photographs I sent you?”
The son of a bitch. At least I knew what I was dealing with.
“I doubt you’ve changed at all. Did you kill your wife because she finally realized who and what you were?” His lack of response put a dagger through my heart. “You’re a worthless bastard, Devon. This won’t end well for you.”
“You’re right. But you can’t have what doesn’t belong to you. Then again, you could never handle a beautiful creature without crushing her. Could you?”
“Be warned, Devon. Your end is near.” I ended the call, tossing the phone onto the seat next to me, pressing my foot down on the accelerator. The bastard had no idea what I had planned for him.
Within two miles of the house, my phone rang again, this time a call from Jameson. “Where the fuck are you?”
“That artist is dead, killed inside his apartment. A single bullet in the back of his head.”
His answer was exactly as I’d expected. “Did you find anything else?”
“He was sitting at his computer. It’s something else you’re not going to like. He’d typed a message to Eden, telling her to meet him at the gallery at eight and that he needed to tell her something. I don’t know if anyone saw it or not since he was shot from behind, but I wouldn’t put it past them.”
Fuck.
“Get to the gallery. When you do, sweep the area and stay alert. If Eden escaped, that’s where she’s gone. Shoot to kill. Contact the pilot to get here as fast as possible. We’re leaving New Orleans.”
“With the girl?”
“With the girl.”
“Okay. There’s something else. There’s word on the street Rodriguez is planning on making a hit. It seems he didn’t like being threatened.” Jameson’s tone was as full of anger as mine.
Yet I almost laughed. “He’s the least of our problems. Just get to the gallery.” I wasted no time, switching to the tracking system on my phone. The device had come in handy over the years as I suspected it would now. As I flipped to the screen, I wasn’t surprised what I’d found. She’d escaped, likely contacting a friend to come save her. It had been a part of the game, seeing if she’d make an attempt. I’d gambled and lost, the woman more cunning than I’d anticipated.
However, the twisted game I’d created could end in her death. “Fuck.”
I stared at the blip as I pulled over, immediately turning around and heading for the gallery. She wouldn’t allow herself to be frightened of what could happen, determined to help a man in need. After careening around a corner, I studied the location where her phone was positioned. On a busy street. She’d anticipated my actions; leaving her phone in plain sight had been part of the game. If I had to guess, I’d say she dumped it in the trash.
Smart girl.
Goddamn it.
I dialed Alessandro as I pressed down on the accelerator, ignoring the speed limit. At least he answered on the second ring.
“I’m dispatching soldiers to grab Wallace’s family.”
Alessandro exhaled. “Why?”
“He was threatened to steal information from us.”
“By whom?”
“Devon Rosario.”
