Nineteen
Elias
If I Had a Heart – Fever Ray
I step forward, my ears pounding as my vision narrows to the man who just interrupted the moment that’s occupied my fantasies for the last month.
Just seconds ago, I was inches away from pulling the most angelic sounds out of her.
If we’d had more time, I would have finally had a taste of her.
I’ve been dreaming about that taste for weeks.
“I have something that requires your attention, boss,” my enforcer says, a devious grin planted on his face.
My fists bundle at my side as I work to calm the white-hot rage simmering inside me.
“It had better be life and death,” I grind out, pain flaring in my jaw.
“It is,” he drops his head with a shallow nod.
I let out a breath, turning to the place where Kat stood behind me, only to find it empty.
My little rebel ran…
The door sways slightly on its hinges. I feel the loss of her more than I thought I would.
Her rose and honey scent slowly fades from the room, somehow making it feel even more empty.
For a second, I just stare at the space she left behind.
My jaw tightens. I’m not surprised she ran.
My fingers flex at my sides, regardless.
I wasn’t finished with that kiss. Not even close.
“My office. Now.”
As we make our way upstairs to my office, the memory hits me again without warning.
I knew she would taste amazing, but fuck—I didn’t expect how soft her lips would be.
The way her body molded so perfectly into my own almost had me weak at the knees.
And the moan she let out… Fuck, I could have come in my pants right there and then.
I drag a hand down my face and force the thoughts back. Kat isn’t the problem in front of me right now. If Cain is coming by unannounced, it means some shit has gone down.
Arriving at my office, I sink into my chair, taking a moment to adjust myself under my desk.
“Bad time, boss?” Cain asks with a knowing smirk.
I let out a frustrated sigh before pulling a pack of cigarettes from my top drawer and lighting one, savoring the pleasant burn in my throat.
“Lay it out, Cain. You said this was life and fucking death,”
Cain’s eyes lose their humor. I’m no longer looking at Cain, my friend. Cain, my enforcer, has taken over.
Good.
“There’s been another,” he says, voice hushed.
The words hang in the air between us. For a moment, neither of us speaks. I lean back slightly in my chair, studying him through the curling smoke.
“Another, what?” I ask carefully, although I already know the answer.
“Disappearance.”
My body goes cold. I had guessed, but that doesn’t make hearing it any easier. “That makes three,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck.
Cain nods.
One or two disappearances, you can resign to coincidence.
But three? Something is happening. And it’s happening right under my fucking nose.
That thought alone is enough to make my teeth grind.
This city runs through me. Every shipment.
Every club. Every back-alley deal—it all moves through the same network, whether people realize it or not. Which means only one thing…
Someone thinks they can work around me.
“What do you know?” I ask, taking a long drag of my cigarette.
“Not much, boss,” he replies, his face solemn. “They’re moving closer to downtown. They started in the suburbs, but this one is practically on our doorstep.” He hands me a photo from his pocket, crumpled at the edges. “Her name is Maya.”
Taking the photograph in my hands, I commit her face to memory.
She’s pretty with soft features, her dark hair highlighting her pale skin.
She’s wearing a black dress that hides her curves, and she’s holding up a beer.
She looks happy. They always fucking do.
It’s like whoever is taking these girls is hellbent on finding the brightest sparks, intent on snuffing out the light.
My thumb drags across the edge of the photo before I realize what I’m doing—and I stop, placing the photo back on the desk.
“She could easily have been a customer here. She looks like the type.”
Cain nods in agreement.
“Send this photo to Gareth,” I order as I press the call button on Gareth’s contact, putting him on speakerphone. He answers on the second ring.
“Boss?” Gareth asks, concern piquing in his voice.
“I need you to search the security footage of Headstone and see if you can find the missing girl on any of it,” I tell him. It’s not a question; it’s an order.
“I’ve just sent you the photo, G,” Cain says, pocketing his phone quickly.
“Of course. But boss,” there’s a hint of hesitation in his voice. “That could take days… weeks, maybe.”
“You have full use of The Circle’s resources.
We have software for this kind of thing.
Use it.” I stub out my cigarette and immediately light another.
“Organize extra security for all employees in every one of my establishments. Make sure they get home safely every night. Word is bound to be spreading, and we can’t afford for people to be scared to come into work. ”
I hear frantic pen scratches against paper on the other end of the phone.
“What should we do about the media, boss? They’re going to pick up on the pattern soon,” Cain asks, leaning closer to the desk.
“Figure it out. The last thing we need is a media frenzy.”
Cain nods, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other. He’s already calculating a plan.
“Summon the leaders. We need to speak with them. Now,” I say, ending the call with Gareth.
Usually, I’m the last to arrive at meetings. It’s my subtle way of showing power. Authority. Control. But today is different. Today I want to make them squirm.
Throwing my feet up on the table, I lean back in my chair, swirling my scotch in my crystal glass as I wait for the leaders to land. Gareth arrived shortly after Cain and I, sharing the news that the leaders were not prepared to be called on, so they would be a little late.
Not fucking good enough.
I have to figure out who’s behind these disappearances before it’s Kat’s face on one of those photos.
The image flashes through my mind before I can stop it.
Kat’s icy hair spread across a photo, like the one sitting on my desk.
Lifeless, stopped in time. My grip tightens around my whiskey glass until the crystal creaks.
You won’t let that happen. Not again.
Whoever is responsible for this has made two mistakes. The first is choosing my city. The second is thinking I won’t find them.
The boardroom door opens and the leaders begin to arrive. Michael and his second, Julius, are first, quickly followed by the new Raiders leader, Ivan.
“What’s going on, Elias?” Michael asks, his fingers drumming nervously on the table as he takes his seat.
“Let’s wait until everyone’s here, Michael,” Gareth replies, his voice cool and steady as I take a sip of my whiskey.
Trip and Tank enter a short while later.
The room falls silent, and all sets of eyes land on me.
I let the silence stretch. I don’t think any of them were involved in the disappearances—in fact, I know they weren’t.
But none of them have put the dots together or reported anything, and that’s fucking suspicious.
Either we’re dealing with an invisible abductor, or these men are getting too comfortable.
I down my drink and slam the empty glass on the table. Ivan and Julius flinch at the sound.
“No second yet, Ivan?” I muse to the newest—and youngest—full member of The Circle.
“No, sir. No one has proven themselves yet,” he replies quietly, his head inclined slightly.
“That’s what I want to hear!” I reply throwing my arms up before turning to face the rest of the room. There are a few quirked brows, but most of them have their eyes on the table. “You’re probably wondering why I called you all here on such short notice.”
They all nod their heads, mumbling affirmatives.
“Three girls have gone missing in the last few weeks.”
They all sit up straight, ready to defend themselves if necessary.
No one looks at each other. They’re all watching me.
Trip’s fingers twitch near his phone before he thinks better of it.
Tank leans back in his chair, the picture of relaxation, but his eyes never leave my hands.
Good. They should be nervous. But I’m highly confident none of them would be stupid enough to do this—not after what happened with Gunnar the other week.
“I will ask this only once,” I say, leaning forward, my palms pressing against the mahogany table. “Were any of you, or any of your men, stupid enough to do this right under my fucking nose?”
They all bristle before various defenses and accusations start flying across the room.
“Of course not, boss,” Trip says, his hands raised like I convicted him.
“The Kings would never and have never. I can’t say the same for the Raiders,” Michael says with a slight shrug.
Ivan stands from his chair at the accusation, leaning across the large table.
I raise my finger, and everyone falls silent. “Would Gunnar have known anything?” I ask Ivan directly.
“No, boss. Gunnar wanted the easy money that came with drugs. Not girls. That I’m certain of,” he replies, eyes looking directly into my own with confidence. I believe him.
“Well, how did this fucking happen then?” I shout, palms raising and slamming back onto the table, causing everything to shake.
Michael breaks first.
“The Kings were approached by someone the other week, wanting to rent out one of our warehouses outside of the city,” he says, brows raised as if to ask whether this information is of interest.
“Who was it?” I ask, sitting back in my chair, the slight creaking filling the silence.
“I don’t know. I’d never seen him before.” Regret flashes over his features.
“Come on, Michael. I know you’re not stupid enough not to get a name.”
“The warehouse wasn’t for rent. It’s where we store our own supplies. I didn’t get a name because there was no discussion to be had,” he says plainly. If this wasn’t the only lead we had, I’d have him taken in for insubordination.
“You have forty-eight hours, Michael. Get me a name or end up like Gunnar.” I run my finger around the rim of my empty glass.
“Understood,” Michael replies with a firm nod. He knows my threat is not an empty one.
“I want all resources on this. You have a week to find out who’s taking these girls,” I tell the room.
Trip and Tank take out their phones and tap away. Ivan makes notes on his paper, snapping a picture of the Polaroid in the middle of the table.
I stand up and walk towards the door, pausing before I open it. “Nothing happens in this fucking city unless I’m aware of it. Do I make myself clear?”