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Seemed everywhere Mathieu turned lately, his people were betraying him. No way he couldn’t take that shit personally.
Now he had to step into that role. As if he didn’t already have enough titles.
He sank onto the edge of his desk, ignoring the ache in his knuckles. He pulled his black gloves off one by one, dropping them onto the desk and holding Dave’s swollen gaze as the bastard struggled to remain upright. The other two men in the room with them were quiet, their expressions impassive as they stood on either side of the closed door.
“Tell me about the man you’ve stashed in my territory.” Mathieu kept his tone calm, smooth. “Now.”
“B-Boss.” Blood gurgled in Dave’s throat. “I don’t—I d-don’t—”
Mathieu’s phone vibrated in the pocket of his trousers, but he ignored it, hiking a brow as he stared Dave down. Motherfuckers didn’t fear him anymore? Was that what was happening? He shook his head as his phone kept vibrating. He didn’t speak as he retrieved it from his pocket and glanced at the new text message notification from a number he didn’t recognize.
He tapped the message to open it and his phone wavered in his suddenly slack grip. He spun, giving the others his back.
The message was an image of a man, but not just any man.
It was fucking Win.
His usually warm golden-brown skin—thanks to a mix of his West Indian father and white German mother—was pale, green eyes defiant but confused as he stared into the camera. He wasn’t tied up and Mathieu didn’t see any guns around, but he recognized a threat when he saw one. He recognized a warning. He also recognized the panic that reared in his gut, making his insides tremble. He inhaled, heard that shit shake and rattle, and almost laughed at himself.
It was unbelievable that he was here again.
His own stupidity had brought him here again.
He swallowed, clearing any kind of emotion out of his throat as he dialed the number that was sent along with the image.
“Sí.” Daniel Nieto took his time to answer and when he finally did, he didn’t sound as if he had a care in the world. Mathieu wanted to smash his face in.
“What have you done?” he demanded. Behind him, Dave made choking sounds. That fucker better not die before Mathieu got the chance to kill him.
“Hello, Mathieu,” another voice came on the line.
Son of a bitch! If he could go another decade without hearing Stavros’ voice, Mathieu would be a happy man. “Stavros.” The last time they’d been face-to-face, Mathieu had saved a man’s life, preventing Stavros from ending him with a bullet. The only life Mathieu had ever saved. An act that made his father question his choices, his loyalty, and his readiness for taking over the business. That man was now back in Stavros’ grasp and Mathieu hadn’t ever known panic like the ice-cold strands that wrapped themselves around his body and squeezed.
“Daniel told you what we wanted, but I’m well acquainted with the way you move. So while you’re over there in that mansion, pondering what you should or shouldn’t do…” Stavros paused. “I took the one thing I know you could never stand to lose.”
He didn’t know shit, but Mathieu didn’t correct him. “Let him go,” he barked while gripping the edge of the desk until his fingers felt as if they’d been soldered onto the cherry wood.
“There is a man hiding somewhere in your territory, given permission to do so by you, or someone who works for you—which is the same thing, in my eyes. I almost died because of that man, and Mathieu, if I don’t have him, or his whereabouts, in the next twenty-one minutes and fifteen seconds, your forger will die. Then I’m storming your motherfucking castle. I suggest you think twice about calling my bluff.”
The call ended and Mathieu gritted his teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes briefly. His forger. Win had been more than that before Mathieu had realized his talent, and he’d only become more invaluable after. Only Win and Mathieu were supposed to know, but Stavros and Daniel had to be aware of that as well.
Why else would they take Win?
How had they taken him without Jairo knowing?
He checked the time on his watch then lifted his head and turned back to the room. Dave’s eyes were practically swollen shut, the guards at the door silent yet alert sentries. He pressed a button on his phone and when the woman on the other end greeted him, he said, “Bring me Dave’s girlfriend. The one with him when he was brought in.” He hung up.
Even though his face was beyond wrecked, Dave still managed to convey his horror as he swayed, struggling against the ropes that kept his hands bound. “N-no. No. P-please.” He had two girlfriends and a wife, making him a very busy man with so many weak spots and a whole lot to lose.
Women and children were supposed to be off-limits. Mathieu’s father had drilled that into his head.“You have an issue with a man, son, you take it out on him. Women and children should never be brought into our war.”
But this wasn’t just war. This was a battle for survival. Mathieu’s and Win’s survival and he would do anything. So he ignored Dave’s cries as he turned to the guards at the doorway. “Sparrow has been taken.”
They weren’t like him. They couldn’t hide their surprise. Because who would be suicidal enough to take one of the most precious things Mathieu Pascal owned? More importantly, who out there knew just how important Win was to him? Only the people in his organization, and even that was on a strict need-to-know basis. The guards were his usual bodyguards, so they had that information.
Sparrow was Win’s codename, one of many precautions put in place to protect his identity and ultimately his life. But Stavros had an advantage; he’d been there at the beginning.
“I want him found. Quietly,” he said. “No making waves.” If Win’s husband didn’t know what was happening then Mathieu wasn’t about to enlighten him. He gave the guards the name of the hotel he’d been informed Daniel was staying at in Miami. “Discreet. You heard me?”
