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“What?”
“Another explosion,” Petyr mumbled, looking from me to Sage and back again. “The authorities are on the scene.”
“Go deal with it, Sage,” I told her, pressing my fingers to my temples.
“Me?”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
She stared at me for a moment, the bale in her face palpable.
“I hope you’re going to deal with the problem in your house first,” she spat, not bothering to hide her contempt.
“Just go!” I roared, baring my teeth.
Whimpering, she cowered back, rushing out of the office with Petyr as I sat shaking at my desk. I had known this was coming, that my empire would start to crumble, but not at the cost of innocent lives. Damn Gabriel. I hoped he was rotting, maggot food wherever he had ended up. He deserved the absolute worst that the Underworld had to offer.
* * *
I didn’t get homeuntil almost three a.m.
Bianca was hysterical.
“Where were you?” she wailed, throwing herself into my arms. “I was so worried that something had happened to you!”
I pushed her back gently, not in the mood to be touched in the aftermath of what I’d just witnessed. The smell of charred flesh lingered in my nostrils, even though I had not set eyes on the bodies myself. My senses were too heightened to miss the signs of death. Death on my property. Deaths that I was responsible for.
“I called you!” she went on, tears illuminating those incredible eyes that hardened my cock despite all I’d seen that night. On second thought, I did want her in my arms. I wrapped her tightly to my chest, willing away all the horrific sights I’d seen.
When our situation was less complicated, I would tell Bianca everything I felt. I would tell her that I loved her, that she was mine, and there would never be anyone else. I would cherish her for every minute we had together, even though I would only be able to keep her for mere decades because of her shorter lifespan.
Unless she was my true mate…
Was she? I had felt the bond snap into place, but I wasn’t ready to face that reality yet. This wasn’t the time. My world was falling apart.
“Atlas, what happened?” she implored me, not leaving the matter alone, even when I didn’t speak.
“It doesn’t matter,” I growled, wishing she would stop asking. “It’s business.”
She pulled back to look at my face, her own complexion waxen.
“It looks pretty serious for business stuff,” she insisted, sniffing my clothes. “You smell like smoke.”
I exhaled deeply and released her, stalking toward the kitchen. I needed a glass of wine.
“Where’s your sister?”
“Sleeping. Marcus gave her a potion that will speed up her recovery by four times,” Bianca said brightly. I hadn’t told her about his speculation of poisoning, but I was relieved to know that Dahlia was being treated properly.
I opened the stainless-steel fridge and withdrew a Riesling, pouring a glass to the brim. I offered Bianca one, but she shook her head.
“I don’t drink much,” she admitted. “My dad… Eugene.”
I tensed at the reminder.
“Right.” I frowned. “Does it bother you if I drink?”
She shook her head. “No. You can control yourself. He can’t.”
