Chapter 7
LEX
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Trying my best not to murder Mortal Kombat.
“…and none of this would have happened if you two would have just gone with her into Roman’s office,” Laing smarts off for what has to be the thousandth time.
I swear to God I’m about to break the fucker’s nose again before Nate cuts in.
“Back down, Laing.”
Laing rolls his shoulders like he’s itching for it anyway.
“Bloody hell,” O’Malley scoffs from across the table. “This is going great.”
“Where is Ivan?” Khoza’s voice booms over the others.
“And Marisol,” Briggs adds. “They should be here by now.”
“Ivan’s not picking up and Marisol is being Marisol,” Tex answers.
Five days.
Five days since our girl was taken.
Five fucking days and no word from Luca. No coordinates for where the hell we’re supposed to go in Costa Rica. And not one single clue as to what Cade is going to be forced to do in whatever sick-ass trial that’s waiting for him down there.
Nothing.
Only a lot of fucking silence.
Okay, not exactly silence.
Our apartment has been a complete madhouse. Sabine, Laing, and Kenji showed up two days ago. Laing immediately unleashed the entire Red Silk Triad’s tech arsenal on all of our phones and laptops. His cables sneaking across the table like a nest of vipers.
Didn’t do shit.
Which tracks, considering Tattooed-Dragon-Dick is about as useful as a screen door on a submarine. All that useless, expensive hardware and we’re still sitting here like jackasses twirling our thumbs while our girl is out there bleeding and getting branded by her brother.
Sabine’s been the real one. She’s been tearing apart every possible chemical configuration, desperately trying to map out every shitty scenario Zeke could have done to those collars.
Shock. Poison. Internal burns. Delayed detonation.
All of them suck ass.
Khoza and O’Malley arrived yesterday afternoon, sitting in silent observation. Gearing up and getting ready to burn the world down with violence and loyalty until we find our girl.
I love those guys.
Briggs has still been here since Ellie called him in. That situation is a whole separate problem Cade and I haven’t had a single minute to unpack yet, but we will.
Top all of that off by cramming a fuck-ton of people into the mix. This place has officially stopped feeling like our home and is starting to feel more like a damn war bunker.
There is nowhere to breathe. I can’t even take a shit without someone barreling through one of the doors.
Ellie and Haley haven’t left once. They’ve been sleeping here—our bed, the couch, the cold floor, or wherever they drop when exhaustion finally wins.
Knox too. He hasn’t left the kitchen table in what feels like days.
The guy has just been rotating between coffee, code, and staring holes through Luca’s poems.
Nate’s been working upstairs on the Project Dylan servers trying every angle we can to find her. Him and Tex moved back into their old rooms in the penthouse on the 41st floor. Close enough to hear if shit goes sideways.
Callum has officially taken over residence in Cade’s leather chair. August won’t shut the fuck up unless someone threatens him. And Rez keeps leaning against the wall, watching everything with that lethal glare that makes people nervous.
Mine and Cade’s parents are here too. Which isn’t helping.
Way too many opinions cramped in one apartment.
Every chair is occupied. The counters are lined with weapons, laptops, half-empty coffee mugs, takeout boxes, and the ghosts of all the arguments that have never fully ended.
Someone is always pacing. One of the girls is usually crying.
And there’s always someone—August—muttering something under their breath.
Though, it should be noted that I haven’t fought with Tex in like forty-eight hours or some shit. So, a new record.
“Okay!” I slam my palms down on the table, rattling the glasses. “Everyone just fucking shut up for a second.”
I stand, heat crawling up my spine.
“Look,” I grit through my teeth. “We all want the same thing. Bella back and Luca six feet under.”
A few heads nod.
“But to get her back, I’m going to need all of you,” I admit. “I’ll need some of you with me and Cade when we do these damn trials.”
Laing huffs a laugh. “Last I checked,” the smug bastard says. He leans back with his shirt unbuttoned so the stupid dragon is on full display. “You don’t have the RST Black Book, Barinov. Therefore, I don’t work for you.”
“Last I checked,” I fire right back, not even raising my voice. “I wasn’t fucking asking.”
He stiffens in his seat.
“Laing,” Sabine cuts in before he can lunge for my jugular. She calmly clicks her long blood-red nails on the table. “You can posture if you want.”
Click. Click. Click.
“But we all know how this ends, chéri.”
Laing scoffs. “Do we now?”
Click. Click. Click.
“You care,” Sabine says simply.
Laing’s jaw tightens. “Don’t.”
“Go ahead and lie to yourself all you want,” she continues.
Click. Click. Click.
“But you can’t fool me, honey. I know you wouldn’t have pulled her back after her father’s death if you didn’t truly care for that girl.”
His laugh is harsher this time and defensive as hell. “You don’t know a damn thing about me, Sabine.”
“I know you’ll show up.” Sabine clicks her tongue and tilts her head. “For her.”
Laing shuts his trap.
“Lex doesn’t have your Black Books,” Nate says as he steps forward to face them all. “But I do.”
Every head jerks toward him.
“And if you help us get Bella back,” he continues, his deep voice unwavering. “I’ll give them back. Every single one.”
“What?” Tex roars. “Nate, you can’t just do—”
“You heard me,” Nate cuts him off. “Help us get her back and your books are yours.”
“That’ll tank everything we built! Everything he—”
“If it gets her back,” Nate interrupts him again, “then it’s worth it.”
He glances around the table, locking eyes with some of the world’s most dangerous people one by one. “If it gets them back,” he adds quietly. “We’ll find another way to save kids. We always do.”
Sabine, Laing, Khoza, O’Malley, and Briggs all look between each other. They all seem to be having silent conversations with only pointed stares and nods.
It’s creepy.
Sabine rises with a slow and measured grace that draws every eye in the room. “We shall take you up on your offer, Nathaniel. But do not mistake this for coercion. Bella is ours too. Blood or not.”
She turns slowly, addressing each face at the table. “Whether Laing and the others care to admit it, that girl has bound us together with pain, with purpose. And with fire.”
Laing huffs in his seat.
“And if you had offered us nothing. No books or leverage. Not one single promise,” she continues, giving a nasty side-eye to Laing. “We all would have been there anyway.”
She glides closer, black and burgundy silk whispering across the floor with each step. She stops in front of me and places a hand flat against my chest, right over my heart.
“We’ll help you because that’s what family does. Not because of some paper and ink.” Her dark eyes stare deep into my soul. She smiles faintly. “So go on, l’ombre. Tell us the plan.”
“Um.” I clear my throat.
Twice.
“Costa Rica,” I continue. “Cade’s first trial. We don’t know what it is, so I want to be prepared for the worst. Sabine, I want you with us in case for some miracle she’s there and we need to get the collar off of her in a hurry.”
She nods. “Of course.”
“The rest of—”
DING-DONG.
Every head in the room turns.
“Well hell,” Tex snorts. “Maybe Marisol finally decided to show her face.”
My eyes find his. “Okay, who the fuck is Marisol?”
Laing barks out a low laugh. “Zeke’s ex. Trust me, you really don’t want to know, man.”
I grunt as I take a step away from the table. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”
When I get to the door, I reach for the handle and yank it open. The room behind me goes deadly silent. For a half a second, my brain refuses to catch up.
Roman Russo is leaning against the doorframe, ghostly pale. And from the looks of it… extremely pissed.
“Jesus Christ,” August breathes from the couch.
“Roman,” I say, my voice rough as gravel. “Shouldn’t you still be in the fucking hospital?”
“I wasn’t about to sit in bed while my daughter’s missing.” Roman tries to step past me, his gait stiff. He’s got his left arm tucked tightly against his ribs just to keep his chest from splitting open.
“So.” Roman stops and braces himself against the kitchen counter, knuckles white on the granite. “Where the—” He’s cut off by a deep, rattling cough that shakes his entire frame. He hunches over, breathing hard and trembling just trying to stay upright.
“Where the hell is my daughter?” he rasps, steel eyes burning.
“For the love of God,” Nate grits, already moving. He ushers Roman to the table. “You’re not cleared to be standing, Roman. Come sit down.”
“I’m cleared enough.” Roman waves him off. “Now, answer the damn question.” He lowers himself into the chair beside Cade. A slow, agonizing descent that makes the air hiss through his teeth.
“Still combing through everything I’m afraid,” Nate admits. “Roman, who shot you?”
He frowns, looking genuinely confused. “Luca.”
“We know that.” Cade nods once and turns to face Roman. “But who is Luca?”
Roman winces as he sucks in a breath. “He was my mole in the NYPD back when I was actively searching for Bella as a child.”
“NYPD?” I ask.
He nods. “The trail went cold. All leads dried up, life went on, and we drifted apart. I honestly hadn’t thought about him in years until—”
He stops himself in a flash. His sharp gaze snaps up to me. “She knew him, Lex.”
My heart stutters. “What?”
“Bella. She… I don’t know, it was like she… she recognized him,” he mumbles, replaying the events in his head. “From the picture and then he—”
“What picture?’ Cade cuts in, leaning forward.
“One on my desk. She knew him. And he called her something right before he pulled the trigger.”
“What was it?” Cade asks.
Roman drags a hand over his face, grunting at the movement. “I… Fuck, I can hear it. It was um, sugar something.”
“No,” I gasp.
“Sugar Bear?” Cade whispers through a shaky breath.
Roman’s eyes widen. “Yes. That’s it. Sugar Bear.”
“You’re sure?” I demand. “You’re sure that is what he said?”
“Yes. Why? What does that mean?”
Cade doesn’t answer. He pulls out his phone and scrolls a few times. Then tilts the screen toward Roman.
“Is this him?” Cade asks, pointing to the picture.
Roman barely glances at the photo. “Yes, that’s Luca. Wait…” he says, grabbing Cade’s arm and pulling it closer so he can get a better look. “Why is he with my daughter?”
Cade turns the phone toward the rest of us. “It’s Jack.”
The room explodes into overlapping curses.
Tex’s eyes are blown wide. “What the hell?!
“Oh my God!” Ellie cries.
“No,” Knox mutters, shaking his head. “No fucking way.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Laing roars.
“What?” Roman asks. “Who the hell is Jack?”