Chapter Twenty-Seven #2
“I’d suspected another rat for a while,” I added before Dylan inevitably asked.
“But my brother was meticulous. He had insider knowledge, which he manipulated to suit his agenda—until he got cocky. Raegan showed me a receipt, an order for weapons with a forged signature that we could trace right back to him.”
Torin.
It hadn’t taken any interrogation for him to confess his fault.
He’d sobbed as he relayed my brother’s visit, too distracted by the tongue in his cunt to pay attention to the order request. By the time he’d returned to work, he’d noticed my signature already on one of the documents in his pile.
He couldn’t recall the handover, but fearing repercussions, he entered it into the system instead of flagging it.
I’d wanted to kill him where he stood, had even attempted it, but Raegan advised sending him back to his father for his punishment. I only heeded her because of Finn. His loyalty was irreplaceable.
Though I vowed never again to hire another assistant as a favour.
“I didn’t want it to be true,” I said honestly, the drugs clearly loosening my tongue.
The slight gape of Dylan’s lips suggested he was listening intently.
“Initially, I assumed it was a projection, finding a solution where there was none or hoping the real culprit had planted another seed, but I replayed our interactions. He’d fumbled, whether on purpose—to get a kick out of brandishing his leverage—or simply because the excitement became too much, I couldn’t be sure.
He’d implicated himself, and brother or not, I could make no more excuses for him. ”
He’d known the shooter had clipped Dylan’s ear.
It could’ve been a hunch, an assumption after Tobias mentioned the shot nicking him, but he hadn’t explicitly stated where.
The hacker was my second clue. A “computer nerd” he’d conveniently failed to mention while I was tearing apart the city searching for Minseo.
My tech specialist could breach CCTV, any public device, and even those in high security, but not another pack’s systems. It was significantly more challenging due to firewalls preventing even a cursory glance inside without alerting the owner—alerts that had failed to appear on mine.
He’d offered the assistance so casually, staying in character, I wouldn’t have picked it up if my senses weren’t in overdrive.
If I hadn’t been forced to repeat in my mind every conversation we’d had to ensure nothing was missed.
It was crumbs, but it was enough.
My hand was squeezed, as if in reassurance. “I’m guessing you tracked him to the office building?”
“Tobias did. It killed me not to do it myself—to get you out, there and then—but I had to be sure. Aaron called me, playing his part, saying you were in a Rovina hostage cell, and to meet him there. He’d killed two of the sentinels outside, unknown thugs, really painting the picture of loyalty.
” A sneer plucked at my top lip. “I could’ve slaughtered him right then, gouged out his eyes and ripped out his lying tongue, but your safety was my priority.
I anticipated the reinforcements, briefed to wipe out my squad, but he was oblivious to the fact I had triple the reserves. ”
As far as he knew, my plan was to bring a handful of guards, keep the mission contained—lure him off the scent, have him believe it would be an effortless fight. Our forces were primed and equipped for any outcome, and Raegan ensured the Rovina’s enforcers never saw them approaching.
“You’re an incredible actor,” Dylan joked, though it didn’t quite hit the right note. “I had no idea you were playing along.”
“As soon as I saw you, tied to that chair, it took every sliver of my will not to react, but I had to make sure every last one of them was gone.” My head tipped in an imitation of a shrug.
“Part of me was also eager to hear his pitiful excuse, to weed out even the barest hint of resistance I might’ve harboured for killing my own brother. ”
“For what it’s worth . . .” He paused, chewing over his words as if they were stuck. “I’m sorry it had to end this way. Despite all his bullshit, he was your family.”
Now more attuned to his emotions and what triggered them, I recognised why he might believe I’d feel sadness.
But I didn’t. Aaron Devereux was my brother, my twin, but we were both aware that our every action may end in death.
It was the world we lived in, the world we’d grown up in.
I could mourn his loss, but to what end?
He was gone, and the ingrained reminder of what he’d planned to do to my mate, and my daughter, would forever prevent me from feeling even an ounce of sympathy. Or remorse.
“He forfeited that privilege the second he decided to insert you into his schemes,” I insisted, tone firm, and my mate sighed, his shoulders sagging. Relieved.
“I can’t believe he resented you so much that he dragged this out over two and a half years.”
I could. Holding grudges was a family trait.
“I suppose it was an error of mine, not recognising his dissatisfaction sooner,” I justified.
“He had freedom, wealth, an elite family name. There was nothing denied to him apart from the leadership. We would have been eradicated if he were in charge. He was intelligent, and productive, but inconsistent. A loose cannon. He would have had us at war within the week.”
“I don’t think there was anything you could have done to change his mind,” he expressed, offering a small smile—another attempt to soothe what wasn’t there.
“Once you lock on to a conclusion like that, it’s hard to be convinced otherwise.
Even if you had offered to step down, he would’ve wanted more. I saw the greed in his eyes.”
“You’re perceptive.”
He smirked. “I know.”
A knock sounded at the door, and without verbal admittance, a nurse wandered in. His eyes widened as soon as he noticed me awake. “Why didn’t you call for the doctor?” he scolded, pointing at the wall behind me. “Ring the bell.”
“Oh,” Dylan floundered, reaching out for the call button. I stopped him.
“No need for that.”
The nurse shoved his hands against his hips. He was lucky I was bed-bound. “Alpha Devereux, the doctor needs to check you over for any signs of—”
I pinned him with a threatening look. “No.”
Dylan chuffed lightly. “Stop being petulant. I’ll hold your hand.”
My glare shifted to him, and he returned an eyebrow rise that dared me to argue. I relented. Only because I’d never hear the end of it. “Fine. But if he touches me with any more needles, I will rip his arm out and shove it up his arse, understand?”
The nurse nodded before scurrying out of the room. It satisfied me somewhat.
“I know you don’t like it,” my mate offered, his voice a fraction more compassionate.
Typically, coddling would make me bristle, but it was proving difficult to contain my reactions—my mind and body acting without my permission.
“But the sooner we make sure you’re okay and recovering, the sooner you can come home. ”
“The drip will be coming out too,” I grumbled, my skin itching.
“If you’re no longer at risk of dying on me, and you won’t be in tremendous agony, we’ll ask if it’s a possibility.
” It was a compromise, though his tone suggested disapproval.
There was another stretch of silence before he tapped at my knuckles, urging my attention back to him.
“I wouldn’t let them do anything to you while you were unconscious unless it was absolutely essential. You do know that, right?”
My brow furrowed at his insecurity, before realisation dawned.
I nodded.
“Good,” he said, gesturing toward the machine. “The IV was a necessity—as were the surgery and check-ups. Everything else I did myself, like the sponge baths.”
“I trust you.” The words had materialised before my brain could catch up, but I found it didn’t irk me. It was the truth, and feeling the gratification that wasn’t my own swell in my chest made me marginally less frustrated with my lack of filter.
There was another knock, and I barely suppressed the uncharacteristic urge to roll my eyes. “May as well install a fucking revolving door,” I griped under my breath.
Dylan heard me, his lips thinning to conceal his mirth.
Edith’s face appeared, peeking through a small gap. “I’m hearing rumours that the ‘prick in room six’ is awake?”
No respect, whatsoever.
“Is that next door?” I deadpanned, and my mate snorted.
“He’s awake,” he confirmed, and Edith laughed, the sound tapering off to a grunt as she shouldered the door—an indication she’d been pushed.
I knew what that meant.
“Alpha!” Minseo squealed. My ears only rang minutely. “Alpha! Alpha!”
Dylan scoffed at me. “What am I, chopped liver?”
“Shout if you need me to come and get her,” Edith said with a kind smile and a head dip in my direction, before retreating to allow us privacy once again.
Minseo attempted to climb onto the bed but it was too high. Dylan reached over and hefted her onto his lap, hugging her to his chest. “Minnie, baby,” he said firmly as she wriggled in his hold. A voice of authority. “Alpha is sore, okay? Gentle.”
She paused her squirming and frustrated noises. Her curious eyes flitted over me, taking me in. Her bottom lip quivered as she asked, “Does Alpha ouch?”
A scowl from Dylan curbed my true answer. “Yeah, sweetie,” he responded before I could even open my mouth—likely for the best. “Alpha has an ouch.”
After allowing her a chance to absorb the new information, he tentatively loosened his hold. She crawled over the space beside me on the bed and sat on her knees next to my waist, her small hand stretching out with a grunt. “Alpha.”
I took it, sweeping my thumb over her inner wrist. “Hello, princess.”
A noise trembled in her throat, a perplexed and distraught sound as she stared at the wires branching out of the top of my hand.
I let her go, and hooked my arm around her back instead, steering her to my side.
She peered up at me, concern shading her dark, caring eyes, and it truly amazed me how one so small could feel so much.
I arched forward, kissing her temple. “I’m okay.”
She flopped against me, her arm bracketing my chest. I buried my nose in her hair, inhaling her neutral, powdery scent. I didn’t realise my eye had closed until a fleck of raw, bittersweet emotion poured through our bond. It flew open again.
Dylan’s eyes were glassy.
“What is it?”
“I’m just . . . happy,” he conceded. “So damn happy.”
Tension released through my nose, my lips curving with a smile only he would notice.
I extended a hand toward him, encouraging him closer—a sudden keenness growing in me to be surrounded by them both.
He eased off the bed, walking around to my other side before nestling into the gap, head braced in his hand, face level with mine.
The fingers of his free hand carded through Minseo’s hair before he brought them up to my chin, and tilted my face upward. “Don’t ever do anything like that again,” he cautioned, his voice a warm wisp of breath. “Do you understand me?”
“Careful,” I teased. “I might start to believe you care.”
He reduced the gap, his lips caressing the corner of my mouth. “You’re mine,” he declared, his possessiveness, his passion, his devotion, rolling through me like a tidal wave. Wild and destructive. “And only I get to decide if you can leave me.”
I kissed him, an unyielding pressure that was compliance, a proclamation, and a pledge all in one. My heart constricted. He tasted like home. “You have my word.”
“Then . . . you have my everything. Every single piece.”
I cocked a brow. “It was my impression I already had?”
He shook his head. “I never told you I loved you.”
I studied him. The beautifully defiant and fascinating creature who’d granted me a life I never expected to possess.
Enraptured, my gaze locked on those obsidian eyes, those expressive fucking eyes with depths that had reflected every secret, every intention from the very beginning.
His mouth, his face, his body, every inch of him an open book with a language I hadn’t understood written between the pages.
All I’d had to do was learn how to read it.
“You didn’t have to.”