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She held on to my arm, and unless I wanted to cause a scene, I had to indulge her until I could slip away. “If you needed a wife so badly, you know I’d have been happy to be of assistance.”
My impending marriage would forge an alliance with the Russians. One we badly needed. And since the Russians would never turn down an opportunity to gain more power, they had readily agreed.
As always, I’d do what was expected of me. For the good of the family.
“Good to know.”
When I didn’t say anything else, she finally released me. “Call me if you get bored with your little wife.”
Instead of voicing my thoughts, I nodded and made my escape.
I fended off eager investors and more unwanted advances from women who only saw me as their meal ticket. I’d grown bored of the scene a few years ago and was getting worse at hiding my disdain.
Someone clapped me on the back, making my jaw lock tight. “You look like you’re at a funeral.”
I immediately released my clenched fists when I realized it was Jude. “A funeral would have been more fun than this excuse for a fundraiser. Everyone should have donated the money they spent on their dresses and jewelry, instead of giving a few measly dollars and reveling in their own wealth.”
“All this gloom and doom isn’t normal, even for you. Ever since—”
A shriek interrupted him, and people started running for the exit.
Jude pushed his way through the crowd to get to the source of the panic. I followed close, searching for our parents, who I’d last seen near the cake table—which was where everyone was trying to get away from.
“Liam,” Mom wailed.
I snapped my head around to where she was kneeling on the ground, next to the body of my father.
Coming to a sliding stop, I threw myself down next to them, frantic to find out what had happened. Mom was pressing a tablecloth to his chest that was soaked red.
I turned to Jude. “We need to get him to the hospital.” Running my hands over Dad’s body, I fought the rage threatening to tear me apart. “Is he hurt anywhere else?”
Two of our bodyguards rushed up, guns drawn. Dad had wanted them to wait outside, since we’d all been too cocky to think anything would happen at such a public event.
“The ambulance is on the way,” Gregor, one of our bodyguards, said. “There’s no sign of the gunman.” He’d been with us for over ten years, and I trusted him implicitly.
Breathing hard, I sat back on my haunches. “Search the area, and make sure you’re informed of anything the police might find once they get here.”
He nodded and disappeared just before paramedics arrived. They loaded Dad on a stretcher, their movements efficient, their faces hard to read.
Leading Mom outside, I helped her into the ambulance. “We’ll meet you at the hospital.”
She nodded, her eyes glassy, her cheeks wet.
Gabriel and Jude flanked me as we walked back to the limousine, our faces set in hard lines, our fingers itching to pull out our guns and shoot whoever had just tried to kill our father.
“I’m calling Gunner. If someone is coming for us, they’ll try Freya next.” Jude already had his phone out, calling our sister’s fiancé, who conveniently owned the security firm we often used.
My phone pinged with a text, and my blood chilled when I read what was in the email attachment. My guy in San Francisco had sent a more thorough report, going so far as to access the phone records of Quinn’s stalker.
They were planning to take her.
Thoughts swirled in my head, making it hard to concentrate. I was torn between ensuring Dad was safe and getting to Quinn. If something happened to her, I would never forgive myself.
Messaging my contact to get her out if he saw anything out of the ordinary, I sent a text to get my plane ready.
I guess there had never been any other choice but to go to San Francisco.
5
