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We both loved her. In a way, I think she always loved us, too. Our bond seemed unbreakable back then. But my disappearing act left only Owen for her to turn to. As much as I want to be angry at her for how things unfolded, I have no right to blame her. Instead, all I can do is try to earn her trust going forward.
Owen’s phone rings, and his entire demeanor changes when he answers. He shifts to the edge of his seat, sitting up straighter as he listens intently. A shadow crosses his face as his body language turns defensive. Something is wrong. I stand tall and put a hand inside my jacket in case I need to draw my weapon.
“What are you talking about? That doesn’t make any sense.”
He tosses the phone on the table after tapping a button to put it on speaker.
“Say that again so Tobias can hear you, Matteo.”
“A source inside Scotland Yard says they’re looking at your brother for the attack on the wedding. It sounds like Gabriel Hunt was leading the faction who didn’t want the marriage to begin with. You need to get out of London fast. Authorities suspect Gabriel was working with someone to stop the wedding, and because Owen is the one who rushed out with Bellamy, they’ve named him as a person of interest as well. I’ve still got a jet on standby. Just say the word and you’ll be in Las Vegas in twelve hours.”
I frown. What the fuck is this guy talking about? There’s no way Gabe did this. “Who is your source?” I demand. “My brother was in the wedding. He wouldn’t have anything to do with this. Not to mention he was dying of cancer.”
Matteo whistles. “That’s intense. I’m sorry to have to be the bearer of bad news. My source is confidential, but reliable. I already sent Owen a redacted copy of the police report to protect my source’s identity.”
Owen opens his laptop and pulls up the document in question. Just as Matteo suggested, my brother and Owen are listed as persons of interest, with my brother being the lead suspect. But because Owen was spotted dragging Bellamy out of the church, there is speculation that the two were working together. All of this was compiled in just a few hours. That’s suspicious. It was pure chaos at the church. The police shouldn’t have this much intelligence already. Not when I haven’t been able to dig up anything.
“This looks like someone feeding the cops information, and that means we can’t trust it. We need to find out who. I can’t leave town until I have more to go on.” My stride is determined as I head for the door. “I’ll be back. Keep digging.”
“Are you safe?” Matteo asks as I reach for the handle.
I turn back to the table so he can hear me. “We’re booked in under an alias. We should be fine for now. Owen will inform you if that changes.” My gut tells me I can trust Matteo, and despite the police report, I still feel like I can trust Owen. Then again, I might have a mole in my organization, so I can’t say how trustworthy my gut is. But I’m going to listen to it for as long as Matteo proves useful.
Owen is already back to his computer, focused on his work, as I leave to go find out what the hell is going on. I need to meet with my closest council and get a read on all of them. If someone is betraying me, it’s likely to be coming from one of them. I’ve always been so cautious about who I let into my inner circle, so the idea that I might have let a rotten apple infiltrate those ranks infuriates me.
With every step, my rage grows. I step onto the elevator with purpose, determined to uncover the culprit so that I can rain hell on whoever betrayed me. No one will stand in my way. I will meet with each member of the organization if I have to, and make sure they feel fear at the knowledge that I will not rest until I find out who I need to kill for ruining my wedding.
Chapter nine
Chapter 8
Owen
“Whattimeisit?”
I jolt at Bellamy’s voice and glance up from my screen to find her standing in front of the table; her face drawn into a tight frown and her shoulders rigid. Her eyes lack their usual shine, and exhaustion is clear in her body language. I hate seeing her like this. Worse, I hate not being able to do anything about it.
“Just after six, love. How was your nap?”
“I don’t feel like I slept at all. My neck is killing me, and I can’t turn my head.” She grips the back of her neck, rubbing at it as she speaks.
I close the laptop and point to the couch. “Sit and unclench your jaw.”
She hesitates before slowly sitting. A deep yawn escapes as she opens and closes her mouth to relax her face muscles.
When my hands connect with her skin, she draws in a sharp breath through clenched teeth—the knot of tight muscles instantly revealing how much stress she’s been holding in her body. “Jesus Christ, Bellamy. Your neck is a mess. How long have you been this tense?” It takes work to keep my tone free of the anger that simmers at seeing her this way.
“Seventy-two days,” she mutters.
I do the math. That would be the night she went on a date with Tobias in Las Vegas. Things changed between us that night, as we knew they always would. A wave of guilt sweeps over me. I’m angry that I didn’t realize how long she’s been suffering. That she’s been in London most of the last two months does nothing to assuage my guilt, and I scold myself for not noticing sooner.
As I press into the knot on her left shoulder, she groans, and my anger dissipates as concern takes its place. “Bellamy, love, you have to take care of yourself. Why didn’t you get a massage?”
“I did once. But things were so busy with trying to pull off a wedding in less than three months. I don’t think I can do this, Owen. How the hell am I supposed to be married to him without you?”
I laugh. “What are you saying? You want to marry both of us?”
She exhales as I work on a knot near her left shoulder blade. “I wouldn’t be against the idea.”
