they glisten from the overnight storms.
When I reach the shed at the back, I hesitate, draw in a breath, and walk in. The glass from the broken clocks glitters on the floor. I stare at it, my life’s work—a fortune in antique clocks that I’d bought and fixed myself. I walk to the nearest one, pick it up. Its face is cracked, but the mechanism works. I could piece it together once more. I glance around the space… Hell, I am going to reassemble every single one of these pieces. That’s not the problem, though. I stalk forward, toward the table at the far end. Fact is, someone was here… They intruded on my privacy… Which I don’t give a fuck about… But her… She was here. So was Max. They’d frightened the dog and it could have easily been her. They could have hurt her… My belly knots. Fuck, if I am going to let that happen again. And it’s only because I am responsible for her, until Christmas… Perhaps until the New Year, if I have my way. I cannot put her at risk again. Whoever targeted me, won’t hesitate to come for her either.
I have to find a way to protect her…for as long as she is here… And later? I cannot allow them to get to her.
I pull out my phone. My first call is to the company that manages the services to the cabin and the shed.
I give them the go-ahead to switch on the electricity to the kitchen, and only to the kitchen. With the fancy bucks we pay to the private supplier, anything is possible. As for the water supply? I ask them to ensure there’s only enough for two days—nothing like water running out to test the mettle of a person, huh? As for the power cut? I orchestrated that too. Just a test, a way to exert complete control over the situation, and on her. Only I hadn't counted on a goddam intruder, violating my personal space. If something had happened to her—! My shoulders bunch. Goddam it, I have to find out who was behind the break-in.
Then I dial Damian’s number.
"What?" he grumbles.
"Did I disturb you?" I ask.
"Yes." He yawns. "You woke me up, you knob."
"Good." I roll my shoulders, "We have a problem."
"Not we," he mutters, "you." He yawns again, so loudly, I hear the sound of his jaw cracking over the phone. "Don’t pull me into your personal shitstorm, motherfucker," he warns.
"The shed was broken into last night."
There’s silence, then, "What do you mean ‘broken into’?"
"Exactly that." I begin to pace. "Someone got in, then got to my collection of clocks."
There’s a pause. "Didn’t know you still collect and repair them."
"I never stopped."
I also don’t talk about this affliction of mine with the Seven.
"I had Karina check on the security for both the cabin and the shed, so whoever managed to break in—"
"Was no ordinary burglar," he completes my thought.
I stay quiet and the silence extends.
"The Mafia." I blow out a breath. "They were behind this," I growl. "I should have known that they wouldn't stop coming after those close to us."
"And is she?" Damian asks.
"What?"
"Is she close to you?"
"We are sharing the same cabin," I snap.
"That's not what I meant."
"That's all you're getting," I retort.
Damian doesn't respond.
"If the Mafia thinks this is going to scare us off, they are wrong." I snarl.
"We won't stop until we find out who among the Mafia was behind our kidnapping," Damian agrees.
"If they're breaking in and entering now, they must be getting desperate," I mutter.
"We must be getting close to a breakthrough." Damian grunts, "Have you heard anything from Saint or Sinner about the latest on the investigations?"
"Not since they found their lady loves," I gripe. "Not that I begrudge them their happiness, but clearly, it's time we take things into our own hands."
"The New Year's eve party," Damian replies. "We'll all be there."
"Everyone except Baron." I say, referring to one of the Seven who prefers to stay clear of us and conduct his business remotely.
"Except fucking Baron," Damian agrees. "The rest of us will be there. We are bound to get an update then."
"Right." I pinch the bridge of my nose, "Meanwhile, I need to up the security here at the cabin."
"You going to ask Karina for help, again?" Damian asks.
"Why wouldn't I?"
"You know how upset Arpad’s going to be about that?" he replies.
"Whatever is between her and Arpad is not my problem," I bite out. "Her investigative and security