Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Robert
I head for the inner quarter at Rendezvous, one of my adult clubs.
The main club is loud upstairs with bass shaking through the walls hard enough to rattle the glass shelves behind the bar as I step through the private entrance at the back, Enzo beside me, and four men falling in behind us.
The hallway narrows the deeper we go, luxury peeling away inch by inch until velvet and gold become concrete, steel doors, dim lighting, and the metallic smell of stale blood in recycled air.
We reach the underground quarter, and my body reminds me of how exhausted I already am, in the way only long days and longer anger can produce.
I haven’t slept properly in weeks.
Every time I close my eyes, I see Christine screaming at me in that hospital room and Blue lying unconscious.
“Boss.” The guard outside the interrogation room straightens immediately. “He’s talking.”
“Is he saying anything useful?” Enzo asks.
“No.” The guard shakes his head.
He pushes the door open and we step inside the room.
The smell of blood, sweat, and fear slams into my nostrils first.
Daniel is chained to the steel chair bolted into the center of the room, his head hanging forward, and his wrists restrained beside him. His face is barely recognizable beneath the bruising now.
His head jerks up, relief crashing across his face so fast it almost irritates me.
“Robert.” His voice cracks instantly. “Robert, please.”
Enzo moves toward the wall calmly, pouring himself a drink from the tray left untouched in the corner like this is business as usual.
Because it is.
Daniel starts panicking harder when I keep walking toward him.
“I swear to God, I didn’t do this.” His chest heaves violently. “I texted and made mild threats, yes, okay? I wanted attention but I didn’t touch her. I didn’t touch the child.”
“My child, Daniel.” I shrug off my suit jacket slowly and hand it to one of the guards.
“I didn’t touch them… please, believe me.” Daniel starts crying.
“Hmm.” Enzo hums disbelievingly in the corner.
“I love her,” he blurts desperately. “Why would I hurt her?”
That makes me pause but it’s not because I believe him. But because men usually lie differently when they’re guilty.
Guilty men protect themselves first, but Daniel… He sounds offended by the idea.
I walk toward the steel table nearby instead, my gaze drifting over the arranged tools resting on top: knives, pliers, a blowtorch, and medical clamps.
I pick up a pair of industrial shears.
Daniel sees it and immediately starts shaking his head hard enough to rattle the chair.
“No no no, Robert please.” Panic drenches his every word now. “Please listen to me.”
“Daniel…” I walk back toward him slowly. “You threatened her.” My voice is calm. Too calm.
“I was angry.” He gulps, trembling.
“You kept calling her.”
“I was trying to get her attention.”
“You terrified her.” My jaw clenches at the thought.
“I…” Regret flashes across his face now. “I’m sorry… I’m really sorry.”
“I don’t care if you’re family.” I crouch slightly in front of him, elbows resting loosely on my knees.
His breathing stutters.
“I didn’t try to kill them,” he whispers immediately.
“Wrong answer.” I grab his hand and he screams before I even do anything, pure instinct already kicking in.
“Robert please…”
I clamp the blades down on the nail of his ring finger and I pull.
Daniel’s scream tears through the room so violently that one of the younger guards actually looks away.
Blood runs instantly down his hand, dripping onto the floor in thick red taps.
“Now,” I stare at him. “You’re going to tell me everything.”
“I SWEAR I DON’T KNOW anything.” He sobs so hard the words barely form properly. “I swear on my mother, Robert!”
“Yeah, bless her sweet soul.” I tilt my head slightly, not buying into his gimmicks. “You still have nine more.”
His entire body convulses in panic.
“Please…” He’s choking on his own breathing now. “Please listen to me.”
“Talk.” I straighten fully this time.
“I hired people to watch her once a long time ago.” His confession spills out rapidly now. “I wanted updates then, but that was it. I wanted to know where she was going and who she was seeing when we broke up. But I would never hurt Christine.” His voice shakes violently.
“Name of the truck driver,” I demand.
“It wasn’t me, please.” He begs, sobbing.
I study him while he cries through broken breaths.
“You love her?” I ask finally.
“Yes…” His swollen eye lifts toward me. “I loved her, and I still do.. But not enough to hurt her and a child. I’m not some psycho.”
Daniel is obsessive, immature, and entitled.
But this?
This level of calculated violence?
He doesn’t have the stomach for it.
I know he’s capable of harassing Christine, manipulating her. Maybe even scare her. But almost killing her and Blue?
The realization seeps coldly into my bones.
He’s the wrong man for the job.
I release a slow breath through my nose and step back, relieved I didn’t have to kill my own blood.
“Robert?” Daniel notices the shift immediately. “You believe me?” Hope flickers stupidly across his ruined face.
“No,” I answer honestly. “But I believe you’re too pathetic to pull this off.”
His face crumples.
I turn away from him entirely, rolling my sleeves back down slowly.
“Keep him here,” I tell the guards as I retrieve my jacket. “Alive.”
“No… no…” Daniel starts crying harder. “Robert…”
I don’t look back as I walk out.
Now, my problem is infinitely worse because whoever is after Christine isn’t emotional or immature.
When I get home, the estate is sucked of its vibrancy.
The long driveway glows beneath soft ground lights while security rotates shifts by the gates.
But my head is still underground.
If it’s not Daniel… then who?
The thought loops viciously as I step out of the car.
Because Daniel made sense. Messy sense, but sense regardless.
Enzo says something beside me about updating the surveillance team tomorrow morning, but I barely hear him.
My mind is already upstairs with Christine and Blue. With the possibility that someone got close enough to almost take them from me before I had the chance to experience them.
I enter the house.
Most of the lights are dimmed now, the estate asleep except for the guards stationed through the halls. A few nod respectfully as I pass.
I reach Christine’s door and push it open to enter the dim room.
Christine is asleep beneath the blankets, curled slightly onto her side, and the sight of her stills something violent inside me instantly.
My eyes drag over her slowly to the loose silk sleep dress, the soft rise and fall of her breathing, and the faint crease between her brows even in sleep, like some part of her still doesn’t rest anymore.
I stand there longer than necessary watching her. Making sure she’s breathing.
I loosen my tie slowly as I move deeper into the room. Then my jacket comes off. My gun follows after that, set carefully onto the dresser beside my watch.
I head toward the floor-to-ceiling window, exhaustion clawing at the back of my neck now. My shirt is halfway unbuttoned when the bed rustles softly behind me.
I glance up through the mirror to see Christine shift sleepily, blinking against the dim light.
For a second, she just watches me silently. Then she pushes herself upright slowly.
“Hey…” I smile softly at her through the mirror.
Her hair is a mess around her shoulders. But it’s beautiful.
I finish unbuttoning my shirt and slide it off.
“Hey…” She climbs out of bed and walks toward me barefoot.
I’m unfastening my belt when her arms slide around my waist from behind, the movement halting me instantly.
She presses her cheek against my back without saying a word.
And Christ.
Something about the simple intimacy of it nearly undoes me after the night I’ve had. My hands brace against the wall while her arms clamp around me.
“You’re late,” she murmurs sleepily against my spine.
“I had something I needed to see to personally.”
“Another woman?”
“Really, Christine?” I huff the faintest laugh.
“It’s been two weeks and you still won’t touch me.” She grumbles, her voice still thick with sleep.
“Give me some credit, will you?” A tired smile pulls briefly at my mouth.
Her fingers drift slowly across my stomach now, tracing absent patterns against my skin beneath the waistband of my trousers.
The contact sends arousal shooting through my body instantly.
It’s not that I don’t want her. Heaven forbid that ever happens. If it does, then I know I’m broken beyond help.
But I can’t take any more from her.
I almost lost her.
Now every time I touch her, some part of me remembers her screaming for me to stay away.
So yes, I’ve been gentle.
Painfully gentle.
Because right now all I want is for her to keep healing, even if it kills me slowly in the process.
Christine presses closer behind me, warm cheek against my back, her fingertips sliding lower before curling lightly against my abdomen.
“You know this is making me insecure, right?” She mumbles.
I snort.
I turn slowly in her arms until she’s looking up at me properly, sleep-heavy eyes blinking beneath the low light.
Her silk dress hangs loose against her skin, one strap slipping low enough to expose the curve of her shoulder and the swell of her breast.
And fuck… desire hits me hard enough to feel physical.
My hand comes up automatically, brushing my knuckles carefully against her cheek.
“Robert…” Her brows pull together.
“Yeah?”
“Stop that.” She points at me accusingly.
“What?”
“You touch me like I’m antique pottery.”
Despite myself, I laugh softly.
“Baby…”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I’m serious.”
I sigh, nodding once, but I still don’t move to do anything about it.
“Kiss me,” she nudges softly, rising onto the tips of her toes like she’s trying to bridge the distance herself.
“Okay, baby.” My voice comes out rougher than intended.
I lean down and kiss her.
The second my mouth touches hers, something shifts.