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Black and white security footage of the gallery plays on the screen in four sections. One shows the back alley entrance. One shows the main gallery. One gives a bird’s eye view of the storage room. And, finally, the last shows the outside of the front entrance. I’m about to look away when movement catches and holds my attention.
My forehead furrows. I lean forward and focus on the quadrant showing the front of the gallery. Specifically, the fact that no one stands at the front of the gallery. Nolan left to pick up food, but Liam should still be posted outside. Not once in the months since the brothers have been acting as my bodyguards have I been left without at least one of them looking out for me.
My eyes scan the screen, searching the street for a sign of their vehicle, but it must be parked out of range of the camera. Still, an uneasy feeling swirls in my stomach. It only grows when I see a man wearing a dark shirt and aviator sunglasses enter the gallery.
Instinct motivates me to act.
I take out my phone and open the text thread with Declan. I am typing out a message to let him know I’ve lost sight of Liam when movement out of the corner of my eye distracts me.
I turn and see Ashley standing next to me behind Isaiah’s desk. Her eyes are wide, and she’s shaking.
“Ashley?” I lower my phone and step closer to her. “What is it?”
She doesn’t answer. Instead, she lifts a trembling arm and reaches for me.
Thinking she’s moving in for an embrace, I take another step closer.
I know I’ve made a mistake when a sharp sensation pricks the space between my shoulder and neck.
Time slows.
Ashley draws her hand back. I register the small, sleek needle gripped in her palm with an overwhelming feeling of dread.
“Ashley?” I stumble back, already feeling the side effects of whatever substance my best friend just drugged me with. “W-what are you doing?”
“What I have to.” She sets down the syringe and approaches me. Her eyes are still wide, but there’s a determined gleam to them as my legs buckle beneath me and I slump onto the floor. “Don’t worry. You’re safe. For now, at least.”
My tongue feels like it’s tripled in size, rendering me unable to respond. My fingers fumble with the phone in my hand. I look down to try and find Declan’s contact information and call him, but the screen is a blur. Ashley snatches the device from my hands just before I lose consciousness.
Chapter15
Declan
I stare at my cell phone, waiting for Catarina to respond to my last message.
It never comes.
I know she’s at work, but I debate what else I can say to keep our conversation going. There’s an ease to speaking with her over text that is difficult to emulate in person. Not that I don’t try. And not that our conversation hasn’t been improving with each passing day.
The setback after Newport seems to be in the past, but I’m eager to ensure that’s the case by continuing to show her there’s more to this relationship than the forced arrangement between our families.
At least, there is for me.
And I suspect Catarina feels the same way.
Flashing ellipses appear at the bottom of the screen. I wait for her response, but nothing comes through. She must’ve accidentally typed something and left the screen open.
“What are you doing?”
I look up as Jane walks into our family’s conference room at our Manhattan office building. Myles and Joseph follow close behind.
My guard is immediately up when I see my blond relative, but I hide it behind a well-practiced smirk. I cannot wait for the day when I can ban the untrustworthy man from these meetings. Unfortunately, I have no idea when that will be. My grandfather, though old age is catching up to him, shows no sign of joining his beloved wife in Heaven anytime soon. That is, if men like us are even able to step past those pearly gates. And as long as Grandfather is around, he’s going to insist Myles be part of my inner circle. My distant relation has done a good job of convincing our patriarch that he’s not the untrustworthy rat I know him to be.
“Nothing of importance,” I answer Jane as I turn off the phone’s screen and place it face down on the table.
Knowing better than to press in our current company, she says, “I saw Grandfather’s driver pull up on the security cameras. He’ll be here any moment.” She crosses the room and settles in the chair next to mine.
“Good.” I’m curious to discover the reason behind this spontaneous meeting. Grandfather requested we speak shortly after I arrived at work this morning, and I was taken aback when he said he’d be here within the hour. I can’t remember the last time he stepped foot in this building. Usually, the family goes to him for meetings.
