Gabriel
Present Day
Five days. Five fucking days, and we’ve heard nothing from Maverick.
Not only are the other high lords breathing down my neck, but I’m starting to doubt myself which I almost never do.
Every day that passes that Delilah isn’t back in my possession is like a noose tightening around my neck, slowly cutting off my oxygen and draining the life out of my future opportunities.
Granted, Gentry was right.
The response from other countries has been overwhelmingly positive. After the video aired all over the world, several countries reached out with their sympathies, even expressing interest in revisiting the possibility of negotiating trade agreements.
So while Delilah’s disappearance hasn’t been all negative, I—and my fellow brothers—agree that it’s time for her to come home. Hence, another meeting with the Northwest’s high lords to come up with next steps.
“The video has gained us some traction with the E.U., I’ll give you that. But until Gabriel’s wife is back in New Athens, we will continue to appear incompetent.” Dean once again is the first lord to express his disapproval.
“What did the recon team find on the island?” Gentry asks.
I shake my head. “Nothing useful. While it’s clear it was recently inhabited, there was no sign of where they might’ve gone next.” After we tracked the signal of the video call, we sent a military team to search the area, but we came up short. No Maverick, and more importantly, no Delilah.
“Can’t we just search the other islands until we find them?” someone asks.
I scoff. “Waste of time. There are hundreds of islands off the coast. We can’t spare the time or manpower.”
“Have we tried contacting Stetson again?”
I grit my teeth. “Obviously. It was a dead end.”
It took all of the Brotherhood’s resources to find a way to get a hold of Maverick the first time. Unfortunately for me, he was smart enough to get rid of any trace of that number after I managed to contact him a week ago.
“What about—”
My phone rings on the table, a video call from an unknown number flashing across the screen. “Get IT down here so they can track this call.”
Someone gets in contact with our tech department while the rest of the room quiets as I prepare to answer the phone. I slide my thumb across the screen, already knowing who I’ll see once it connects.
Sure enough, Maverick’s smug face fills the small rectangle in my hand. “Saw your little video, Gabe. Were you wearing makeup and everything?”
My hand squeezes the phone as I try to keep my cool. “Where’s my wife, Stetson?”
Maverick pans the camera over to show Delilah. Their surroundings reveal nothing of significance, nothing concrete for us to go off of. They could be anywhere. She’s seated on the ground, arms wrapped around herself. “She’s right here.”
“Let me talk to her,” I demand, hating how powerless I feel.
Maverick puts the phone in front of Delilah’s face, but she doesn’t look up. “I’m all right, sir.”
“Look at me,” I command her.
She does as she’s told, lifting her head. She looks physically unharmed, but I have no idea the kind of shit Maverick’s put in her head. “Have they hurt you?”
She shakes her head. “No, sir.”
“Good.” I nod as Maverick moves the camera back onto himself. “What do you want, Maverick?”
He shrugs. “I’m prepared to negotiate your wife’s release.”
I glare at him since we both know our previous attempt at negotiation led nowhere. “Are you now?”
He nods. “Your wife, for, let’s say, fifty women.”
I laugh. “Get fucked, Stetson.”
I see Gentry shake his head disapprovingly out of the corner of my eye, but Maverick presses on undeterred. “Forty women, then.”
“You’re wasting my time,” I warn, even as Gentry mouths keep him talking.
“How many women are worth your wife’s life, Gabriel?” Maverick asks, sounding just as impatient as me.
The high lords in the room silently confer, before they all hold up one hand. “Five,” I offer.
“Ten,” Maverick counters.
I look to my brothers, then to Gentry. They all nod their approval. “Deal.”
My former best friend looks pleased as our tech guys arrive and discreetly plug my phone into their computer, trying to acquire Maverick’s location.
“When and where?” he asks.
“Friday. Our old spot at the northern border.”
I can see the wheels turning in his head as he considers the time and location. “How do I know you won’t just kill me once you have her back?”
The tech guy gives me a nod, letting me know they’ve locked onto Maverick’s location. Gentry immediately jumps into action, calling our military contact. “I give you my word. As long as Delilah is unharmed, you and the women will walk away unscathed.”
Everyone—even Maverick—knows the Brotherhood pride ourselves on being men of our word, so it’s as good a reassurance as any.
“Fine,” he agrees.
“Excellent. And Maverick?” I stare at him through the screen, hoping he can see the severity in my face.
“What?” he asks, his own tone matching the darkness in mine.
“If you so much as think about touching my wife, I’ll ensure that she suffers the consequences for your actions. Understood?”
His jaw ticks. “Understood.”
The call disconnects abruptly, and I turn to Gentry. “Where are they?”
“On another uninhabited island off the Sound.” Gentry points to the IT guy’s laptop screen, which shows a blinking red dot seemingly in the middle of the ocean.
I pull at my necktie, hoping to alleviate some of the suffocating pressure that’s built there. “What did the military say?”
He offers a sympathetic shrug. “They’ll probably be gone by the time we could get to them.”
“Or that could be their entire base of operations,” I reply, barely keeping my impatience at bay.
Gentry clasps my shoulder. “You’ll get her back on Friday. You don’t need to waste your energy chasing after a fool’s errand.”
I undo the top button of my crisp, white dress shirt. “I want to bring Maverick down. After I get Delilah back, I want him and his entire group of rebels to burn.”
“Stetson will pay for what he’s done to you, brother,” Gentry assures me. “But right now, we need to be focusing on the countless opportunities ahead of us. As maddening as it’s been to coordinate your wife’s safe return, look at all the good her capture has brought.”
I take a deep breath and force myself to smile. “You’re right.”
“Good man,” he praises, turning to the rest of the high lords. “Does anyone have any ugly wenches they can spare to offer in exchange for Sister Gabriel?”
The room erupts in laughter as the brothers compare their old and unattractive maids, but my mind is still on that island—on my wife.
I wasn’t bluffing. I’ll run every goddamn test on the planet when she gets home to ensure Maverick hasn’t touched her.
Not because I’m a jealous man per say, but because I’ll be damned if my best friend—my brother—who abandoned me gets to cuck me too.
And if I find out that he has had her, I swear to god I’ll fuck her so many times she’ll forget she ever knew the touch of another man.