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“Where’s Zayde?” I growled, cutting through the noise.
Caiden’s gaze flew to mine, and he held up his phone. “I’m tracking him right now. He was going after Fallon. She was supposed to meet Hyde—uh, Joseph Hyde at their brother’s grave. It’s the anniversary of his death.”
The mood in the room dropped even lower, if that was possible. None of us wanted a reminder of that night. Arlo, Paul, and I had privately agreed that we felt somewhat responsible for encouraging the feud between the boys. None of us had ever dreamed it would end in such tragedy.
“Get the tracker up on the screen,” I instructed, and Caiden nodded at me.
“Hang—” His phone began ringing, and he swiped to answer, hitting the speaker button.
“Caiden. Roland Hyde escaped from prison in the early hours of this morning. We believe he’s heading for Alstone. Stay alert. I’m on my way, bringing Obie and the van. Hyde may be desperate, so be prepared.”
The call cut off, and Caiden’s phone immediately began ringing again. He swiped the screen without looking at it, too busy exchanging worried glances with his friends. “Hello?”
“Cavendish.”
“What the fuck doyouwant, Granville?”
“Zayde asked me to call you. He thinks there’s a link between Roland Hyde and the story—wait, did you hear he escaped?”
“Yes. Anything else?”
“He wanted me to get hold of Joseph, but I can’t. I think his phone’s switched off. Is there anything else I can do?”
Caiden sighed, rubbing his brow. “Fuck it. You might as well come and join us here in the offices. Everyone else has, so why not add my third least-favourite person to the mix.”
“I knew you were starting to warm up to me.”
“Fuck off.” He ended the call, launching his phone across the table, and then groaned. “Fuck. Sorry. Uh, Dad, can you chuck my phone back? I need to get Z’s tracker up on the screen.”
Arlo smirked at him, sending the phone skittering back across the table. “It’s so nice to see my son burying old grudges and taking steps towards friendship.”
“Not another word about Granville,” Caiden gritted out, but I could see the corners of his mouth turning up. Not that any of it concerned me, the only two things I was concerned about right now were where my son was and what Roland Hyde was planning.
“It’s a fake.” Paul lifted his head from his laptop.
“The upcoming newspaper story is a plant,” Stella elaborated, peering at the screen from behind her reading glasses. “According to this email from…” She trailed off, her gaze bouncing all over the conference room until it settled on Taylor, Paul’s assistant. “Taylor?”
Taylor stepped forwards, visibly shaking from head to toe. “Y-yes. I’m so, so sorry. He—he sent someone to me in the middle of the night. He said that if I didn’t co-operate, Edward would die.”
Stella’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock, but I had no fucking time for dramatics. “Explain,” I demanded, slamming my hands down on the table as I stared Taylor down.
“I’m sorry.” She was openly crying now, but it didn’t move me. The only thing I was interested in was getting answers. “I had an anonymous message to say that if I didn’t get hold of some of the files containing sensitive information, I could expect to say goodbye to my son. He’s my only child. My reason for living.” Her sobs grew louder, and I fought back the desire to shout at her to get to the fucking point. “I-I copied some files. I felt so sick doing it. I…I couldn’t…after I’d given the information to the anonymous person, I sent you an email because I felt so guilty.” That comment was directed at Paul.
“My source at the paper, who, by the way, I never wished to utilise—” Paul’s mouth curled down in distaste. “—said they haven’t heard anything about a story.”
“It’s blackmail. They want to have something in case—” Arlo’s brilliant mind was working faster than the rest of us could think. “In case their plan doesn’t work. Fuck. They knew that the news of a breaking story would get us all here today. We need to get out.Now. Hit the fire alarm.”
There was a scramble for the doors when everyone came to the realisation at the same time. We were sitting ducks. All gathered together in one room. And in the meantime, my son was out there, most likely being lured into danger.
I wasn’t a religious man, but right then, I prayed.
TWENTY-NINE
The car was speeding so fast the scenery outside was a blur. But still, Zayde came. Little by little, he drew closer, his bike skirting around the traffic in an easy, graceful dance.
Was it wrong to be completely petrified by the situation yet so completely turned on by my man’s lethal grace and skill?
“Alstone?” Joseph questioned, and it broke my concentration. Flicking my gaze to the side windows, I realised that we’d entered the outskirts of Alstone town. The roar of Zayde’s bike was audible now as he gained on us, despite Roland accelerating as hard as he dared.
