Chapter 23
The heavy oak clicked shut, sealing the hallway back up in shadow and quiet. I stood there a long moment, just staring at the brass handle, my heart hammering wild and rough against my ribs.
My palm still burned. I could still feel her, like the touch was branded there – that soft little shiver, the way she leaned just a fraction into my hand.
Every rough, hungry part of me screamed to kick that door down and take what I wanted.
But I held back. She’d spent six months running from men who took everything they wanted.
I wasn’t going to be another one of them.
I’d wait. I’d build a wall of steel around her first.
I blew out a long, ragged breath, set my jaw hard, and headed down the hall.
The club was winding down now. The shouting and music had faded to a low hum, just the distant clink of bottles and the soft thud of the grandfather clock in the chapel.
I headed to the quiet common room, dragged a heavy leather armchair over to the monitors, and sat.
Didn’t turn the lights on. I’d spent half my life watching over this place – now I was watching over her.
A soft rustle of cloth came from the archway. I didn’t even flinch. I knew that step.
Pres stepped out of the shadows, cut slung over a faded tee, looking worn thin but calm.
“Rose is out cold,” he rumbled quiet, pulling a chair up opposite me. “Took me near an hour to get her settled. Pregnancies got her running rings round herself, worrying over Danika. She cares, Rage.”
“Aye,” I gritted out in the dark. “Saw what she and Ivy did tonight. Saw what the old ladies did. Won’t forget it.”
He nodded sharp, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “Good. The women are solid now – home fronts secure. But you… you look like you’re about to tear the place apart with your bare hands. Go get some rest, brother.”
It scraped raw right down inside me. That private investigator, lurking round the corner from her work, sitting outside her cottage night after night…
watching her, waiting to grab her… it made the blood boil so hot I could taste it.
Every bad thing in me wanted to ride straight down to London and tear the world apart.
“Haven’t slept since I knew he was there,” I muttered, voice rough and dragging. “Not till we’ve got this locked down. If those pricks think they can roll up and snatch her easy. They’ve got another thing coming. They don’t know we’ve already got her.”
Pres’s eyes glinted sharp in the monitor glow, a slow, hard smirk tugging at his mouth. “You want to turn this old life into a kill box?”
“Exactly,” I leaned forward, every word cold and clear.
“We plant a little extra gear round that cottage tonight. Make it look like she’s still there, sitting pretty.
When they roll up thinking they’ve got an easy snatch?
They walk straight into us. Swift, Tiny, Tank, all the boys waiting for ‘em.
Let ‘em come looking for their helpless little heiress.”
“Done,” Pres said smooth, already planning it out. “I’ll get on comms now. Twenty-four-seven watch on that spot. If anyone so much as breathes wrong near there… we bring ‘em straight back here for a chat. What about the coffee shop?”
“Shut it down tonight,” I snapped. “No way she’s ever stepping foot back in there. It’s blown. Compromised.”
Pres huffed a quiet laugh. “She’s got a fire in her, y’know. Won’t like being told what to do.”
“I don’t give a damn what she likes or doesn’t like,” I rumbled low, voice dropping to that growl that usually made prospects piss themselves.
“She’s mine now. She stays inside these walls where it’s safe.
I’ll sort all the paperwork, make sure she’s clear.
Send a couple of lads round tomorrow with her official notice. Job’s done.”
I paused, jaw tight, remembering her working till she dropped for barely any money, letting some boss walk all over her. “And if that little shit manager gives her grief. I’ll go down there myself. Sort him out proper. She’s not going back.”
Pres sat quiet a moment, watching me steady. Didn’t argue. He knew better than anyone – when it comes to our people, there’s no space for compromise.
“Alright,” he said at last, standing up and clapping a heavy hand firm on my shoulder. “Trap’s set. Cottage is covered. Shop is handled. Boys are hungry for a fight. You’ve done good, brother. Now… try to rest. When this hits, I need my Enforcer sharp.”
“I’ll be ready,” I grunted back.
He nodded once, then slipped back into the shadows to his wife.
Once more I was alone in the dark. My gaze locked straight to the feed of her door. She was safe in there right now, curled up under those blankets, not knowing the war that was coming for her.
All those rich pricks in their fancy suits thought she was just some pretty little thing they could grab and drag around.
Thought they could take whatever they wanted.
They had no clue who was standing guard.
I sat back in the chair, a cold sharp grin spreading across my face.
They were in for one hell of a rude awakening.
The trap was set. The beast was awake. And the first man stupid enough to cross that line was going to bleed.