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“Keep her fucking name out of your mouth,” I snap, taking a step closer. I don’t care that I have several guns pointed directly at me. All of them would be a little too happy to turn me into their pin cushion, but I’m not going to give them the satisfaction.
Even though I’ve never dealt with Floyd personally, I know he’s not stupid.
Killing me is as good as announcing an all-out war on the Blackthornes.
They are, however, trying to take over our territory, not make an enemy of us.
“It seems we’re at an impasse,” Floyd continues, in the same annoying tone of voice. He gestures to his men, and a few of them step back, allowing him to move forward and giving me my first real glimpse of the man. He’s a lot shorter than I expected, and his hair is almost completely gone. Still, there’s no mistaking the tightness around his mouth or the powerful build underneath his custom-made suit.
Floyd Philips doesn’t look like much.
But I’ll be damned if I underestimate a man of his power and influence.
“You could let us walk out of here,” Floyd suggests, leaving a wide berth of space between us. “You’ve made your point, Carter. Haven’t you killed enough men for that?”
“This doesn’t end until you crawl back into whatever fucking cave you crawled out of,” I tell him with a frown. “If you know anything about the Blackthornes, it’s that we don’t kindly to threats or invaders.”
Or being made fools of. And Floyd is treading on very thin and dangerous ice.
Not that I care.
I’d sooner put a bullet through his head than let him walk out of here, but I know I have to be smart—for my family and the sake of the Blackthorne empire.
And for Isabella above all else.
The shrill ringing of a phone interrupts whatever Floyd is about to say next. He takes his cell out of the pocket of his trousers and presses it to his ear. “This better be good.”
A long moment passes, and Floyd’s entire expression changes. “Visting her father at the hospital? So, you’ve got eyes on Isabella Julus right now, do you?”
Ice settles in my veins.
Goddamn it, Isabella. What have you done now?
Floyd ends the call and shoves his phone back into his pocket. He stands up straighter and gives me a pointed look. “You’re going to let us go now; otherwise, you can kiss your little whore goodbye.”
I clench my free hand into a fist. “Don’t you fucking touch her.”
“You’re not in a position to call the shots around here.”
“Or I can just shoot you right now. Then go after your men,” I suggest, barely keeping myself from lunging at him and ripping him apart with my bare hands. “I like my plan better.”
A flicker of fear moves over Floyd’s face. “You could, but something tells me you won’t. For the sake of your preciousIsabella.”
I cross over to him in a few strides, and before his men have any chance of reacting, I have my knife pressed to his throat. “One wrong move, and I’ll end him.”
All of them exchange panicked looks.
“You don’t threaten me,” I say into Floyd’s ear. “Or my family. You got that, you piece of shit?”
Floyd swallows and says nothing. “My men have instructions to go after the girl if they don’t hear back from me in ten minutes.”
I spin Floyd around so he’s looking at me directly. “I want you to look at me and see the murder in my eyes. If you ever come near my empire or anyone I love again, I’ll make you beg for mercy.”
Floyd’s face pales, but he says nothing.
Slowly, I release Floyd, and he scurries away from me. When I hear him mutter something unflattering about Isabella underneath his breath, I tap his shoulder. He spins around, his eyebrows knitted together, and his head snaps back from the impact of my punch. My knuckles are sore, and blood drips down his nose and onto the hardwood floors beneath our feet, but I don’t care.
I take a few steps back and give the other men a pointed look. “This isn’t over.”
