Chapter 12
12
RYKER
I never gave women tours of Dominion Hall.
Never let them past the front doors unless they were here for a reason—business, a job, a carefully managed indulgence that didn’t outstay its welcome. This wasn’t the kind of place for showing off, for parading women through the halls like a goddamn sightseeing attraction. This was home. A fortress. The last thing left standing after a life built on blood and war.
And yet, tonight, I had given Isabel Harper a tour.
I still wasn’t sure why.
She shouldn’t have been here, walking through these halls like she belonged. But she was. And the worst part? I wasn’t angry about it.
I was pleased.
She had liked the books. That shouldn’t have mattered, but it did. I’d seen it in her eyes—the way her fingertips traced the spines, how she lingered, soaking in the space like she could feel the history woven into every shelf. The library wasn’t just a collection. It was a treasure, one of the few things we’d salvaged from the old life. Our father had made sure of that.
He used to say that men could lose their money, their homes, their names—but the words they carried? Those could never be stolen. Books had been his way of holding on, of keeping something real when the rest of our world had been crumbling.
I hadn’t talked about him in years. Hadn’t thought about the long nights spent on that old leather couch, the scent of whiskey and paper thick in the air as he read aloud. But watching Isabel in that room, the way she understood without me saying a word … It made me want to tell her.
Made me want to tell her too much.
I exhaled sharply, pressing my fingers to my temples. I needed to get my head on straight. This was work. That’s all it was.
Except it wasn’t.
Because no matter how much I reminded myself of my promise to Will—no matter how many times I told myself she was off limits—I kept looking at her. Kept wanting. Kept picturing how easily I could have backed her against one of those bookshelves, slid my hands over that soft, perfect body, and made her forget every warning she’d ever been given about me. I should have walked away the second she stepped through those doors.
Instead, I had let her in.
And now? Now, I had to tell her something she wasn’t ready to hear.
A sharp knock on my office door snapped me back to reality. I straightened, rolling my shoulders before opening it to find Noah, my brother and COO, waiting with a look I didn’t fucking like. Noah didn’t rattle easily. He had been by my side for years, handling logistics, keeping our contracts clean, making sure every operation we touched ran smooth and tight. If he was standing here at midnight instead of calling, it meant something had gone sideways.
I stepped back, letting him in. “Tell me.”
Noah shut the door behind him, jaw tight. “It’s Will.”
The room went cold. I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Just waited.
“He never made it to the airport,” Noah continued. “His flight was scheduled for wheels up at 21:30. He never checked in. Never got on the plane.”
I clenched my fists, keeping my voice even. “And no one fucking thought to tell me sooner?”
Noah’s expression darkened. “Because we thought it was a delay. A miscommunication. His work takes him off-grid sometimes, you know that. But I had someone check the traffic cams.” He hesitated. “There’s no record of his car ever leaving Charleston.”
A muscle jumped in my jaw. My pulse was steady, but something else was clawing beneath my ribs—something I didn’t want to name.
Will wasn’t just late. He was gone. And if he was gone, that meant one of two things. Either he had chosen to disappear. Or someone had taken him.
The second thought sent a slow, burning rage through my veins.
I forced my hands to relax, turning toward my desk. “Who have we got tracking him?”
Noah didn’t hesitate. “I put Atlas on it as soon as we confirmed he missed the flight. He’s running everything now—phones, bank records, surveillance. If Will so much as blinks in the wrong direction, we’ll know. ”
It wasn’t enough.
“We need more,” I said. “Full lockdown. I want eyes on every contact Will made in the last seventy-two hours. His last calls, his last texts, every damn footprint he left before he vanished.” I met Noah’s gaze, steady and unyielding. “Find him.”
Noah nodded, already reaching for his phone. “On it.”
He turned to go, but I wasn’t finished.
“And Noah?”
He glanced back.
“I need to tell Isabel.”
A flicker of something crossed his face. Pity, maybe. Or something close to it.
I didn’t need his fucking sympathy.
But I did need to figure out how the hell I was supposed to tell Isabel that her brother was missing.
And I had a feeling I was about to break the one promise I never should have made.