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“They’re the best,” Cian reassures me. “No one will hurt her.”
“I know,” I say, still wishing it were me watching over her.
“Doesn’t make it any easier to leave her,” Rune says.
I hum in agreement. “The sooner we deal with Lawrence and the Asylum, the better.”
Cian tucks his cell phone away. “The meeting is good to go.”
“Pack Lucas?” I prompt.
“Have dropped off everything you need,” Cian says. “They’ve already made copies, and they want to know if we’re sure we want to go ahead with this. It’s explosive enough to send shockwaves through the city.”
I nod. “I’m sure. You sure?”
Rune and Cian agree.
It doesn’t take us long to reach Lawrence’s mansion. The guard manning his gated community entrance eyes me with suspicion as I lower my window and flash him a lazy smile. “Here to speak to Lawrence about a small matter.”
The guard glances at what must be the guest sign-in book in his small hut. “Was he expecting you?”
He must know Lawrence isn’t expecting us if he’s looking at the sign-in book.
“Nope.” I scratch my stubbled jaw. “Let him know it’s Kylian Sutton. I was at his party, and I think I might’ve left a pair of men’s boxers in his garden.”
The guard blinks, and his suspicion melts away as recognition takes its place. “Oh, Mr. Sutton, of course.” His eyes dart around the interior of the car, and I spot the moment he stops viewing us as threats. “Why don’t you head on up, and I’ll let Mr. Wentworth know you’re here?”
“Thanks!” Rune starts up the engine and as the gate rises, he drives us inside.
“Men’s boxers?” Cian’s voice is dry.
“It got us inside, didn’t it?” I mutter, mentally preparing myself for what’s coming. Early this morning, we spent time poring over the explosive information Pack Lucas discovered for us. What they had wasn’t enough to drive the final nail in the coffin. At least not for the likes of Lawrence and Byron Wentworth.
That’s what this visit is for.
We head right for Lawrence’s gray stone mansion, parking in the front driveway.
A butler lets us into the foyer as Lawrence appears from a door on our right, his brow furrowed in a frown. “The guard at the gate said something about men’s boxers…?”
Suspicion clouds his gaze. We didn’t speak at the Asylum, since when we’d arrived, the auction had already started and we left as soon as we had Everleigh. Someone would have told Lawrence who bought Everleigh from him at the auction. Us. While we might now belong to the same club he does, he still doesn’t trust us.
He’s right not to. We’re here to destroy him.
I smile sheepishly. “Uh, yeah, sorry to intrude on you like this, but you don’t happen to have a spare omega lying around, do you? We seem to have misplaced ours.”
Silence reigns for a full minute.
And then Lawrence throws his head back and laughs. “Sheranfrom you?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Cian reach a hand into his pocket and withdraw a card he flashes Lawrence as if to remind him we’re part of his sick club. The Asylum membership card. It’s not the only reason he stuck his hand in his pocket, but Lawrence won’t find out the other reason until later.
Much later.
“We were sleeping off the effects after her heat passed,” Rune rumbles, an embarrassed smile stretching his lips. “Since we’re Asylum folk now, I thought—”
“We can continue our conversation somewhere more private.” Lawrence swings around and reenters the room he stepped out of.
We follow him into a dark wood and black leather office. I’m not the only one who studies the big wooden desk he seats himself behind and is probably imagining setting the thing on fire. This is where he hurt Everleigh. Badly. But he’ll get what’s coming to him.
