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KILLIAN
A brothel? I can’t tell if this is some twisted joke or if the irony is lost on all except me. Perfect, studious, goody-goody virgin Cara Ryan is being held captive at a brothel; I’d laugh if it wasn’t for the dire circumstances.
A mix of my men and Archer’s men are already parked nearby by the time I pull up, and Archer receives a text from his brother. He’s parked around the back of the building with Cain, who has been sent by Dante to help. The news comes with a small swell of appreciation for my brother. He plans ahead with a clarity I don’t often have.
“There’s two guards on the front door and one around the back,” Archer recites from the message he has. “Cain and Declan will enter via the back on our go and they’ll take the upper floor. We’ll sweep the lower and meet in the middle. Sound good?” He glances at me, and I give a small nod, trying to distract from the lava pumping through my veins. I almost can’t get air into my lungs, there’s an iron band around my chest and it tightens every time I think about her.
Cara could be in there. We’re so close that I almost can’t contain my urge to throw myself out of the car and straight into battle. Such a reckless maneuver could place Cara’s life in jeopardy if she’s in there, or alert others if she’s not.
I stare up at the large brown building, grimacing slightly at the rundown appearance. There are several broken windows patched up with plywood and rust stains running down from the window sills. The shabby brown stonework leaves little appeal with all the temptation on the inside; women who will do anything to please. Russian brothels like this are not a pleasant place to be, and my heart skips a beat at the thought ofmy future bridebeing in there. She might be a prissy virgin, but she’s too good to ever step foot in a place like this.
“Cain and Declan are ready.”
Archer breaks through my thoughts and I nod, reaching into the glove compartment to pull out my pistol. The seconds it takes to screw on the silencer feel like forever, and my hands tremble from how hard I’m trying to control myself. If Archer notices, he doesn’t comment.
He climbs out of the car first and I follow his lead, trusting him to be in sync with his brothers for the initial attack.
After that, it’s all me.
I keep the gun hidden behind me as we approach the front door, feigning the arrogance most men have when visiting a place like this. Such a thing disgusts me. I’ve never paid for sex and take pride in being able to make someonewantto be with me fully and willingly, not because I’ve shoved a few bucks into their panties. A place like this is dark for a reason.
Archer greets the bouncer and feigns looking for his identification, then pulls out his gun and shoots one of the guards in the head. I put two in the chest of the other, and we make our way inside.
A long corridor stretches out in front of us and I catch a glimpse of Cain and Declan at the other end. They tilt their weapons in greeting, then take the stairs, disappearing from sight and leaving us to clear the ground floor. A door dots each wall every few feet before the corridor twists around to the left. The walls are covered in a light, badly stained floral wallpaper that’s curled near the frame and dirtied down near the skirting board. My lip curls in repugnance and I move past Archer to approach the first door.
Archer covers my back as I turn the handle and peak inside, catching a glimpse of a man bent over a naked woman, buried between her legs while she looks on, bored. Her eyes snap wide when she notices me and I place my index finger to my lips, praying for her silence. She doesn’t grant me that, though, and a scream erupts from her pale throat when she clocks the gun. The man jerks up, clearly alarmed at the sudden change in her state, but I pay him no mind, shooting him in the back of the head as the woman scrambles back up the bed and cowers near the headboard.
“Relax,” I say flatly, “I’m not your enemy.” Her scream tapers off, her hands trembling against her mouth; she eyes me as someone to be feared. I have no interest in her, though; hurting innocent women is not my goal. “You should take his wallet,” I say, then I turn back into the hall to see Archer silently opening the door across the hall and clearing that room with ease.
We move in unison up the hall, clearing out each room and killing every single man we come across. The women are left untouched, encouraged to take wallets and flee.
Each room contains a man and a woman, sometimes more, but as we clear out the scum of the building, I find myself winding tighter. Cara isn’t inanyof these rooms, and while I’m glad of such a thing, it begins to taunt me that maybe she’s not here at all. I haven’t caught sight of Noah either, which only adds to the weight growing on my shoulders as fear constricts my heart, making each beat feel like I’m drowning.
Another door, another screaming whore, and another dead scumbag; it brings us to the corner of the corridor, and I glance at Archer, who offers me a slight sympathetic shift of his eyebrows. Suddenly gunfire erupts above us and we raise our weapons, flinching down against the wall.
“Got the bastard!” Cain’s voice drifts down the stairs and I suspect someone tried to run. Regardless, our silent approach is broken, and I push up from the wall, intent on heading upstairs to see exactly who he’s found, when a door at the end of the hallway bursts open.
I recognize him immediately.
Noah.
Silence descends like a blanket as every fiber of my being hones in on my target. The bastard that stole Cara from me. I don’t realize the gun has slipped from my hands until I’m already halfway down the hall sprinting towards him. I don’t hear Archer call for me, nor do I hear whatever words twist out of Noah’s filthy mouth when he finally clocks me tearing towards him.
All Icanhear is the booming thump of my heart in my ears as it pounds against my ribcage, threatening to tear right out of my body and attack Noah itself.
I collide with him like a crack of thunder and we hit the floor, rolling together from the momentum of my attack. He cries out as I wrestle on top of him, but I barely register it as I grab his jacket lapel with one hand and begin punching him furiously in the face with the other. He tries to fight back, but I barely feel his blows, consumed by the fire of rage that burns through me, the flames spreading higher as I finally have an outlet for all of my fury.
“WHERE. IS. SHE?!” I roar down at him, punctuating each word with a savage blow from my fist.
Blood spurts out from his face as his cheek splits like the skin of a tomato, and his nose crunches under my knuckles. His hands curl at my own suit jacket, but I grab a flailing wrist with my other hands and wrench it away from me, twisting fiercely until bones give way and snap under my fingertips. Noah yells, and I punch him twice, once with each hand, then I grip his jacket once again and haul him up against me.
“Where thefuckis Cara?” I growl.
Noah’s coughing and spluttering through the blood pouring from his face, one eye already swollen shut from the damage I’ve inflicted. I may dress down and party, but my strength isnotto be underestimated.
“Th—the base—basement….” Noah gurgles, and I glance behind me to see the door he had charged through before I tackled him. I can see the beginning of a descending staircase. In my peripheral, I glimpse Archer shooting someone in the chest, and their body falls to join the numerous others now on the floor.
Noah sags in my grip, and I turn back to him. He looksrelieved.
