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Fist pumping the air, I respond, “Thank you, and yes, let’s move the remainder of my appointments to the house.”
“Okay, I’ll make the arrangements.” There's another lull in the conversation before he clears his throat. “I just want you safe, Ry. I can’t lose you,” he insists.
Guilt hits me square in the chest. “I’m sorry, Dad. I’m not trying to worry you. I’ll stay put. I promise.”
He’s quiet for some time before finally saying, “I love you, Ry, and I’m so proud to be your father.”
Tears prick my eyes. Now, why would he go and make me all emotional? “I love you too, Dad,” I reply past the lump in my throat, then hang up.
When I pick back up the burner, five messages await me.
Unknown: I don’t want you leaving that house, Ariah.
Unknown: Nothing you have to speak to me about is worth risking the twins or your safety. Promise me you won’t leave.
Unknown: I’m sure we can discuss this over text message. If need be, a call.
Unknown: You better not have left the house.
Unknown: Ariah???
Geez. Everyone’s laying it on thick tonight.
Massaging between my brows, I begin responding.
Me: Sorry. I was speaking with my dad.
Me: I already promised him I’d stay put. But I really need to talk to you and I’m not sure text or a phone call are the best way to go about it.
Three dots appear before I continue. I stop texting, waiting to see her reply.
Unknown: If you have your laptop nearby, I’ll send you a VPN number. We can connect that way.
I exit my closet, grabbing my laptop before returning and sitting on the sofa. The number comes through moments later, and I quickly sign on.
My eyes nearly pop out of my head. The woman, the one I’ve been talking and planning with. The one Tamara introduced me to as one of the Princeps. It’s. . . it can’t be. I blink, double-checking my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me.
No longer able to hold back, I blurt, “Holy fucking shit. It’s you.”
70
SEBASTIAN
Senator Matthew Baker is a dead man. Obviously, our warnings haven’t been enough to relay our message—fuck with her, and it’s game over. Our hands were tied before, but now, nothing will hold us back.
“We’ve got Grady. Can we have him delivered to Le Toucher?” Lev asks, looking over his left shoulder at me from the front seat.
My lips curl in smug satisfaction at how quickly the vermin was rounded up. “For what we have in store—yes.”
There’s no way we’d interrogate the dumb fuck at the house. If I had it my way, Ariah would never see or know danger ever again, but I know her, and that will never happen. That doesn’t mean we need to bring the threat directly to her doorstep, especially with some of the complications she’s been experiencing.
“King found him pretty quickly,” Wyatt states.
Lev shakes his head. “It wasn’t King this time. Thomas sent out a team. Grady was far too easy to find to involve King.”
“Where was the prick hiding?” Owen inquires from the driver’s seat.
“His office,” Lev replies. “The idiot thought he could sneak in through the basement and not get caught.”
