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I rise to my feet, eager to put a plan into action. “Let’s go then. Let’s find her.”
“Easy brother,” Winston says, his voice gentling. “We can’t just approach this guy, balls to the wall. We have to strategize.”
His word of the day, I swear to fucking God. “Fuck strategizing. He has her. Let’s get her back.”
My phone dings and I check it to see it’s a text from the head of security at our building. Attached is a video.
The security footage from earlier this afternoon in the lobby.
My heart starts to race as I open up the video, waiting for it to load. “They just sent over security footage from our building.”
They all surround me, Winston on one side and Grant on the other, Finn trying to crowd his way in. We all stare at the footage, but nothing is happening so far.
No Charlotte in sight.
I slide my finger across the arrow, making the video speed up and when I finally spot her familiar blonde head, I let it run at normal speed, all the breath gathering in my throat as I watch her walk past the security desk. She’s fucking stunning, even in her black sweat suit and my eager gaze tracks her every movement as she turns around. The quick flicker of surprise in her expression before it smooths out and she smiles at Seamus McKidnapper.
“She knew she was meeting him?” Grant asks.
I nod. “According to Jasper, security called and said he was asking to speak with her.”
“I don’t like that.”
This comes from Winston and when I glance over at him, noting how his features tighten, his lips thinning into a straight line.
I know why he said it. I get it. I felt the same way.
Right now, watching this video, we’re going to find out exactly how this went down.
They speak for a few minutes, Charlotte’s expression fierce throughout the entire conversation, which is reassuring. I want to believe she didn’t run away with him, but I still don’t know.
Seamus steps closer to her, pulling something out of his pocket that looks suspiciously like a gun. He presses it against her side and all the color drains out of her face—even in black and white film, I can tell.
She’s scared.
And I can’t help it. I’m relieved. Despite Winston’s suspicions, Charlotte didn’t go with him willingly. Deep down I knew, but still.
It’s hard not to feel conflicted, especially considering how our relationship started.
“That’s a gun,” Grant says, stating the obvious. “He walked her out of there with a gun at her side and no one even fucking noticed.”
That he did, the bastard. If I could strangle him, I would. If that man was standing in front of me, I would probably kill him with my bare hands. I’m that angry. She’s mine.
CharlotteConstantinebelongs to me.
Seamus steers her around and escorts her out of the lobby, the two of them walking side by side, leaving through the double doors. One second, they’re there and the next…
They’re gone. Never to be seen again.
The video stops and a ragged exhale leaves me.
“I say we call the police,” Grant suggests once the video is finished. “This is fucking crazy. We don’t know where she’s at, or what his mental state is. What if he’s—hurt her? Or plans on it? Have we heard from him? Has he made any demands yet? Asked for money?”
“All I received were the photos. That’s it,” I remind Grant. “Maybe we should call the—”
“No. No cops should be involved. Then the media will find out and her kidnapping will be everywhere. All over gossip sites, the news—we can’t risk it. And this isn’t about money,” Winston interrupts, scrubbing his hand along his jaw. “It’s personal.”
“Give me a break that this is some personal beef made up between two warring families. I don’t fucking believe it.” Out of nowhere Grant shoves at my shoulder, sending me stumbling back. “You versus the Morellis aren’t mobsters or whatever the fuck. That is some silly shit and somehow your stupid ass got my sister involved. She’s not a pawn to be used in your fight. There’s more to this than you’re telling us.”
