them to the special occasion.
None of the men came home for lunch.
Neither Luca nor Sebastian interrupted the afternoon “Female Empowerment” session Sarah made me attend in the basement.
I both appreciated and cursed every minute that ticked by as I held a gun in my hands and learned how to aim and shoot. And although I adore the leather cuff strapped to my wrist, I much would’ve preferred Luca to be here giving me good news instead of having Sarah instruct me on how to slice someone’s carotid with lethal efficiency.
“They’re going to find him,” were the only soothing words offered to me from Layla while us four women sat outside in the afternoon sun, the neighborhood now sickly quiet without the barking dog.
It wasn’t until later in the day when the sun began to set and Keira excused herself from another chat session around mugs of tea in the kitchen that my confidence in Luca’s promises faded.
She didn’t give an excuse for leaving my side, but it was clear she needed to get ready for the evening with my parents. They all did. Which meant I was left to sit on the sofa by myself, drowning in fear.
I hadn’t let myself believe Luca and Sebastian would return empty-handed.
But they have. I can feel it.
When the front door opens not long after and heavy steps down the hall bring Luca into view, the sight of him only confirms my despair.
Even though he stands tall, head high, shoulders straight, his expression speaks of failure. Those usually intense eyes now beg for forgiveness.
I swallow over the tightening in my throat and look away, my hands clutching the sofa beside my thighs.
“We tried everything,” he says in greeting as he walks my way. “We looked everywhere. Spoke to everyone. We fucking interrogated and threatened and threw our weight around, but nobody knows a damn thing.”
He stops before me, his red and swollen knuckles clenched at my eye level.
I fight against the need to blame him. To yell and scream even though it’s not his fault.
“Where’s Sebastian?” I keep my gaze lowered. “Did he come home with you?”
“Yeah. He’s getting ready.”
A sharp stab enters my heart, penetrating deep. “So, that’s it? There’s nothing more that can be done? I just have to sit back while my parents are used as bait?”
“They’re safe. Nobody is going to get to them. Torian has men set up everywhere. There’s not an inch of space in a three-block radius that won’t be watched.”
Yet again, I’m defenseless against the demands of powerful men.
Everything is always out of my control.
“Your list helped.” He strokes a hand through my hair. “Just not enough to find anything concrete.”
I jerk my head away and push from the sofa. Antsy. Angry.
“I tried, Pen,” he murmurs. “I fucking tried.”
I know. That’s what makes this worse.
I don’t want him to exude defeat and wordlessly beg for forgiveness. It only increases my suffering.
“I’m hoping he’s left Portland,” he continues. “We’ve got so many eyes on this city, someone would’ve had information if he was still here.”
I nod, but there’s no belief to accompany the gesture. I’m well aware Robert is in control inside his perfect hiding place.
He’s preparing.
Scheming.
And I refuse to let him win.
“So, what now?” I suck in a deep breath, forcing strength. “What am I supposed to do?”
“We wait it out. If someone catches sight of him tonight, then Hunt and Sarah will handle it. If not, we try again tomorrow.”
“Right… We wait…” I scoff at the ridiculousness. My parents are lambs at the mercy of hungry wolves, and I’m expected to kick back and watch television as if their lives aren’t on the line.
“There are things I hate about this, too, Pen. I want to be the one to find him—to fucking slaughter him. I don’t want to be stuck here all night either.”
“Then don’t. I’m not stopping you.”
His eyes narrow. “I get that you’re angry. But don’t pull this shit with me. You know you’re my priority.”
I can’t help it. My rage grows and my helplessness along with it.
“Come here.” He grabs my wrist and tugs me into him, wrapping his arms around my back. “This will all be over soon. And your parents won’t even know they were a part of it.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Slowly, his confidence seeps into me, strengthening my resolve. When he releases me, I’m no longer clinging to anger.
“I need to take a shower. Come with me.”
“Not this time.” I slump onto the sofa. “I need to clear my