Chapter 21
21
GAbrIEL
I settled into a seat across from Mal. Royal was pacing by the windows, and there were a dozen of Mal’s men in the hallway outside, all heavily armed and ready for another attack. Luca stood against one wall, a weapon waiting to be called upon.
But I felt comfortable. “I heard about the attack. How can I help?”
Mal broke into a smile. “I appreciate the energy.”
“Well, I am going to be your son-in-law. There’s only one problem. How do I find my bride to put a ring on her finger?”
Mal froze. Smiled slowly as if I hadn’t surprised him. But there was no hiding the way his gaze flickered to Luca again as if he wondered if Luca had betrayed his confidence.
“I know she’s missing, and I can bring her home,” I said. “It would be my honor to care for my future wife.”
Mal relaxed. As long as I was willing to marry her, he didn’t care.
“She’s been missing since we were attacked, when the sanctity of the club was breached. I don’t know if she’s in the clutches of the Dempsey family. They haven’t offered ransom. Or if she’s hidden somewhere…”
“I’ll find her,” I promised. My gaze swept to Luca. “Your men have been incompetent in protecting my fiancée. I’ll have her back to you in twenty-four hours.”
Mal smiled. Luca’s face was frozen, but I knew he didn’t enjoy taking my insults.
“Bring Royal,” Mal said. “Show him how it’s done.”
Ah, fuck .
An hour later, Luca had fucked back off to hiding, and I was trapped in the car with Royal.
He was an annoying passenger. He kept toying with the radio stations, clearly never having learned basic etiquette. I didn’t give two shits. Music had never moved me. So, I let him play with the radio without comment, but I noted that he was a dickhead.
He flicked between stations again. “Everything that’s playing is shit.”
I didn’t care enough about radio stations to respond.
He glanced up at me. “You don’t talk much, do you?”
“You seem to talk enough for us both. As I recall, you and your sister have that in common.”
He let out a disgusted huff of a laugh. “She’s always had the biggest crush on you.”
“I’m aware.”
“I don’t understand why my father would reward her with marrying you.”
“It’s not a reward. It’s business.”
Being married to me didn’t seem particularly delightful, but that was just me.
Royal kept himself from going on—with obvious difficulty—but it was clear how much he despised his sister.
“Are you going to fall in love with her?”
God, so much for those fifteen seconds of peace before he started running his suck again. “Almost certainly not.”
He nodded and leaned back in his seat with obvious satisfaction.
I’d shot my own brother in the face, and I still judged Royal as a shit brother.
We paid a visit to a man who worked for the Obsidian Club and who had been trying to escape from the chaos in the parking garage. His cowardice meant he didn’t want to talk to anyone, but it also meant he was quickly terrified into talking to me.
He told us that Celia had been dragged into a car by a man, but it was impossible to tell if he was rescuing her or kidnapping her. He didn’t recognize the man as being one of the Dempsey family’s men.
But he did give us part of a license plate number.
“I have a friend who can find any potential matches for us,” I told Royal.
He looked irritated as we stepped onto the sidewalk again. I didn’t ask him what was wrong, as I didn’t give a fuck.
But he told me anyway. Of course, he did.
“I hope to fuck that asshole kidnapped my sister. My father doesn’t see her that way, but she’s a little whore?—”
He practically walked into my fist. He was so focused on his diatribe that he didn’t notice me raising my hand until I’d backhanded him on the nose.
He stumbled back a step, his hand going to his bloodied face. He gawked at me in shock, blood streaming onto his overpriced Armani cashmere t-shirt.
For once, he was speechless.
“Don’t insult my fiancée.”
His jaw unhinged even further, which I had not thought possible. “I’m going to tell my father what you did!”
“Definitely do. Explain to him that you tried to talk me out of taking my bride home, insulted her to me, of all people, and almost spoiled our negotiations. Relieve your father of his deluded notion you have two firing brain cells and will make a suitable heir.”
He kept staring at me. I turned away—I didn’t like the sight of blood. It was so ugly. But no one knew that, of course. I didn’t shy away from doing what had to be done.
“Come along. Let’s get your sister back.”