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That’s when I told him everything in a word vomit. Everything about Bran and me. Everything about how that fucking pedophile is taking him away from me and that I need her gone. Erased. Fucking eradicated.
Dad said simply, “Then we’ll get it done.”
He jumped on his private plane while I was talking to him and said he’d make arrangements with his godfather to find the vermin.
“Just landed, son. It’ll take me approximately an hour to get to North West London.”
“Give me an address, Dad. I need the fucking address.”
“Listen to me, Nikolai. I know you’re agitated. I can hear it in your voice, and it’s okay to feel like that, but you willnotmake a reckless fucking mistake that will get you arrested. I told you if we’re doing this, we’re doing it my way.”
I run a frustrated hand over my face. “I can’t wait anymore. I need her fucking blood.”
“Nikolai. Think of Brandon, okay? Think of how he’ll feel if he wakes up and finds out you’re being arrested for murder.”
“Fuck!” I drive my fist against a wall and ignore the pain that explodes in my knuckles.
“The UK is different from the States,” he continues in a collected tone. “It’s smaller and more contained, so there’s no room for mistakes. Tell me you understand that.”
“Just get here, Dad. Please, hurry.”
“I’ll be there in fifty-three minutes. I’ll forward you the coordinates. Let’s meet there.”
After he hangs up, I check the map he sends me as I stride through the hospital door.
A hand lands on my shoulder and I whip around to find Landon staring at me with harsh eyes. “Whatever you’re doing, I want in.”
* * *
Grace livesin this glamorous residential area in St. John’s Wood that’s full of fucking cameras and private security measures. That’s why Dad insisted we wait until his contacts had everything under control.
When we get the okay, Dad, Landon, and I don’t even have to sneak around. We walk into her building and take the elevator to her apartment.
We enter the code and stride right in.
My throat floods with disgust when we get inside her living room, where that video was taken. The sofa and the decor have changed, but it’s still the same revolting place where she stole a piece of my lotus flower.
It’s time she gives it back.
Landon must feel the same, because he snarls at it, his fists clenching.
A commotion reaches us from the bedroom, things being knocked over, curses sounding in the air.
Dad stands in the doorway and nods at us. “Go do your thing. I’ll be here.”
I nod sharply, thankful beyond words for having him as my father. Not many encourage their children's murderous ideas or their need for vengeance.
My father, Kyle Hunter, the most elite sniper you’ll ever encounter, feeds my tendencies in the healthiest ways possible.
Landon and I move silently to where the sounds are coming from. Grace doesn’t seem to notice us or the deep fucking hole she’s dug for herself.
She’s packing a suitcase, shoving clothes in with their hangers, and curses when they don’t fit. A red satin robe covers her body and her makeup-free face reveals the fucking monster lurking beneath.
Landon is the one who strolls in, both hands in his pockets as he whistles. “Going somewhere, Grace?”
She jerks, knocking the giant suitcase off the bed.
Her beady brown eyes widen as she watches us, her gaze ping-ponging between us. “What…how did you get in…?”
