37. Aiden
Aiden
Fifteen Minutes Earlier
What the fuck just happened?
I stand here like a gormless idiot and watch all four women head for the building, telling me I’ve completely lost control of the situation.
Gabriela’s unlike any woman I’ve encountered. She has an air about her that demands respect. Confident. Commanding. And she uses it to her advantage.
Which I admire, but…
Probably why I pushed back. Told her she didn’t scare me. Truth is, she terrifies me.
Not enough to stop me, but enough to give me pause and make me hesitate. And that cost me, because now Isabel’s gone, pulled from me without a fight. I’m left standing here as a spectator, and didn’t utter a goddamn word.
Fuck that!
Trust isn’t the issue. I trust them to protect her. This is more about me. My need to protect the woman I love.
Every instinct I have tells me this isn’t right, which is why I take off after them.
“Stop!” Darius shouts the second I move. “I know you want to go after them. I know what you’re thinking, but trust me, Gabriela can handle this.”
I turn on him, my temper sharp and immediate. “You don’t know a damn thing about what I’m thinking.”
The hurried slap of feet on the sidewalk has me turning just in time to see the problem. The doorman closes and locks the lobby door behind Isabel and Gabby before the two other women can reach them.
“Fuck!”
Instinct kicks in. I move without thinking. Sprint for the doors as I draw my weapon from its holster and fire three rounds at the bastard just on the other side.
The first bullet hits with a loud crack, fractures spiderwebbing across the glass door. The next two strike the reinforced shutters behind it, the sound flattening into dull smacks that echo through the air. The glass splinters but doesn’t break, blocking my view of what’s happening inside.
“Fuck!”
I take a step to my right, trying to get a better angle, and what I see has my blood turning cold. “Drake. He’s got Gabriela. We need to get in there.”
“Calm down,” Darius says, stepping up beside me like this isn’t spiraling out of control. “It’s handled.”
“Calm down!” I point my gun at the lobby. “Handled? That is far from handled!”
Inside, movement blurs together. Gabby’s arm lifts, but Isabel blocks my line of sight.
So, when she drops, my heart stops.
The muted pop, pop, pop hits a second later. And for one terrifying moment, I think that fucking arsehole shot her.
When my brain catches up, it’s Drake who’s falling. A clean hole sits in the center of his head. The fucker by the door drops next, hitting the floor hard.
I stare through the fractured glass, trying to process what just happened.
What the fuck?
That’s when another woman steps into view, and my heart kicks back to life. Just in time for the rage to take over. I shove my gun into the holster and turn to face my boss.
He’s grinning like a fool. “See? Handled.”
I don’t think. My fist connects with his smug face and knocks him to the ground, blood spilling from his broken nose. “I fucking quit!”
“You can’t quit.” He uses the sleeve of his dark shirt to clean his face.
“That’s your one free shot. I earned that.
My mistake was not telling you Gabriela’s plan was already in motion.
They’ve been parked outside the penthouse for over an hour.
Saw those two arseholes walk in and tie up the two doormen on duty. ”
“And she didn’t stop them?”
A glance over my shoulder shows the women inside, calm, chatting amongst themselves, acting like the chaos is already behind them.
“She would’ve if she thought they were in real danger. After they were handcuffed and moved to the back office, she chose to see what those two were up to.” Darius extends his hand. “Now help me up.”
I grab it and haul him to his feet, jaw tight. “You put her in danger.”
“She was never in any danger.” Darius removes his shirt and uses it to sponge up the blood. “Why do you think the doormen were so cooperative? I have eyes and ears everywhere. Haven’t you figured that out by now?”
“Then why didn’t they step in when Drake grabbed Gabriela?” From where I stood, that looked like a situation spiraling.
“Because they didn’t need to. It was handled. Anna had the shot. They knew it.” He balls up his shirt and tosses it on the ground. “Now get in there.”
“How? The front door’s locked.” I gesture to the glass door, now resembling a spiderweb after my attempt to shoot my way inside.
Darius exhales softly, shaking his head like I just disappointed him.
“Are you saying the only way to get inside is through the front door? You’ve gotten into places locked down tighter than this.
Don’t you have the code to the garage? I believe Isabel gave that to you the night you searched the penthouse. ”
How the hell did I forget that?
I turn and take off for the garage at the back of the building. The code running through my head by the time I reach the panel. Fingers hit the keys, the door releases, and I slide under before it’s fully open.
My feet hit the ground running. The metal door ahead should be shut. It’s not.
That gets filed away for later; someone will answer for that. This right here is why shit keeps going wrong. Heads will roll.
The stairs disappear beneath me as I take them three at a time, nearly tripping a few times when my foot slips. Doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except getting to her.
God, I’m so damn owned by her. This feeling, the pull toward her, it’s new.
I’ve never been so consumed. Her pain hits like it’s mine, settles deep and doesn’t let go.
I’d do anything to make sure she never has to suffer again.
I know I can’t, but I can damn well make sure she doesn’t face it alone.
I’ll take the edge off, give her something else to feel.
And I’ll protect every part of her while I do.
When I reach the main floor, I shove open the steel door and head straight for the lobby. Voices echo down the corridor, one stands out, a man’s, pushing my feet to move faster. My gun is already in my hand, ready to take out the prick if that’s what it comes to.
The moment I enter the lobby, I stop.
The ladies are on the ground next to the man I tried to shoot. Recognition hits instantly.
Quentin fucking Drake.
Isabel is doing what she does best—fixing him. Anna holds a knife to his throat, while Gabriela supports where she can.
No immediate threat.
Good.
My attention shifts to the body on the floor. He’s done. The bullet through his skull made sure of that. No coming back from that. Serves him right for all the shit Drake caused.
A few steps bring me closer, but I don’t interrupt them. They have this under control. The fucker is talking, hanging on to Isabel like she’s his lifeline. Too bad that as soon as he’s done spilling secrets, I’ll put a bullet in his head to match the one in his uncle’s.
Isabel slaps him hard across the face to keep him from passing out.
A quiet, humorless chuckle builds in my chest. She’s done. Not about to let this fucker get away with making her life a living hell.
He keeps talking, and every word out of his mouth pushes me closer to ending him. He set up Lawrence, who we still don’t know if he’ll make it. Destroyed Isabel’s closest friend. Trinity is traumatized. Her life will never be the same again.
That’s more than enough to end him.
The truth underneath it, that’s the reason he’s not walking away.
He did it because he’s obsessed with my woman. Planned to take her. Keep her.
That earns him his death warrant.
“Slaves do as they are told, or they get punished for disobeying their master.”
His words have me seeing red. Feet already moving with one clear intent. End him to ensure he never gets a chance to make good on that threat.
I’m three steps in, when Isabel moves first. Grabs the gun at her side, aiming it. But she never gets the shot off.
Anna steps in. One swift slice. Clean. Final. Blood spills across the marble floor.
The need to kill him dies; it’s replaced with something far more powerful, and brought on by the woman who breaks right in front of me.
A scream tears out of her as she beats her fists into his chest. Again and again. No control. No restraint.
“You don’t own me! You never will!” She hits him harder. “You hear me? Never! I hate you. Rot in hell, you bastard!”
Each word hits heavier than the last, rage bleeding out of her in violent bursts. She’s gone, completely over the edge, and if I don’t pull her back soon, there’s no telling how far she’ll fall.
Closing the distance takes seconds. My arms wrap around her, dragging her back, locking her body against mine. She fights. Elbows. Fist. Nails. Anything she can use. What she can’t give him anymore she throws at him.
“Let me go! I’m not finished. He doesn’t get to say that and just die!”
Teeth grit as I take every hit without flinching, tightening my hold just enough to keep her from breaking free.
“Isabel,” I murmur low against her ear, steady even when she’s anything but. “He’s done. It’s over. He’s never touching you again.”
The words don’t stop her right away, but they slow her. Bit by bit, the fight drains, the sharp edge of rage cracking under the weight of everything crashing in behind it.
Then she turns and clings to me. Wraps her arms and legs around me like I’m the only thing keeping her grounded.
My eyes lock with her sister’s. One nod. Enough.
I spin around and march us straight to the lift. No stopping. No looking back.
The instant the doors open, I step inside and push the button for a non-stop upward journey.
The noise stops the second the doors shut, sealing us off from the chaos. Isabel turns her head, lips brushing my neck, her voice no longer wild. It’s controlled in a way that cuts deep. “Make me feel something besides what I’m feeling, please.”