I look up at Casey, studying the front of her book. “What are you reading?”
She peers up at me, her eyes all I see of her delicate face but the way they scrunch and the tops of her cheeks press up into them, I’m more than aware of the big ass grin taking over her face. “Oh, girl. This one is fucking good. It’s—”
The familiar buzz of the front gate sounds, cutting off Casey’s explanation as we both flick our gazes toward the small monitor behind me. My bows pinch. “Who’s that?” I ask, feeling a slight familiarity as I take in the guy waiting by the gates.
There’s a pissed-off scowl over his face and I try to think back to the many meetings I’ve seen Colton sitting through. The guy is older, but I don’t think he’s one of Colton’s business partners. I’ve seen them all, but this guy is … different. There’s something darker about him. Something dangerous that puts my nerves on edge.
The guy leans out of his expensive car and hits the buzzer again, holding it down so the loud buzz vibrates through the whole mansion, demanding our attention.
“Who the fuck is that?” Colton demands, coming out of the bar with no drinks in hand, walking straight over to the small monitor with an annoyed frown marring his perfect face. He grabs the monitor and spins it around so he can get a good look at the screen. “Fuck,” he curses, hitting accept on the gates so they peel open. “It’s Vincent DeCarlo.”
“Then why the hell did you let him in?” I demand as Casey sucks in a sharp breath, recognizing the name.
I watch in horror as Colton crosses the kitchen and presses his hand down on the scanner to unlock the little safe which holds all of the keys to his many cars. Only as the drawers full of keys pops out, he lifts it and curls his fingers around the sexiest, sleek gun I’ve ever seen.
“What the hell?” Casey demands, looking at her big brother with a gun, most likely the first time ever seeing a sight like that. While I've never exactly seen Colton with one myself, having guns around isn’t exactly something new.
I spy the monitor and watch as Vincent’s car shoots through and starts racing down the long drive.
Colton looks at his sister. “Get upstairs. Find Mom and Cora and take them to the panic room.” She nods and rushes away without another word as Colton looks at me. “Where’s your mom?”
“Pool house.”
“Good. She’ll be okay there.”
He starts making his way to the front door and as he disappears from the room, I find myself flying off the counter and following behind. “What are you going to do?” I question, panicking and not wanting him to do what I think it is he’s going to do.
He clenches his jaw and keeps walking, crossing the staff quarters and finding Harrison. “Get all the staff out of here. DeCarlo is on his way. You have thirty seconds tops.”
Harrison’s eyes go wide and although there’s nothing he wants more than to see Vincent go down for taking Maryne away from him, he has a job to do and he won’t risk any of the staff in the process. We don’t need a repeat of what happened here a few short weeks ago. This time, we have our wits about us.
Harrison nods and within seconds, he’s pressing an alarm that sounds throughout the house. The staff instantly fall in line and start racing toward Harrison, waiting on instructions. Once Colton sees his people are being taken care of, he moves ahead. This time he doesn’t stop on his way to the front door.
“Colton,” I say, attempting to get his attention but his stubborn nature has him intent to ignore me, knowing damn well that I'm about to try and stop him. “What are you doing? You could get hurt.”
He wordlessly reaches down and takes my hand, trying to ease my worry yet he doesn’t say a damn word, just keeps moving ahead until we reach the front door.
He tears it open and pulls me out before hitting the lock on the back of the door and closing it, making it harder for anyone to get back through it. He starts racing down the stairs, pulling me along with him, intent to get this bullshit as far from his home and family as possible.
Vincent’s car appears racing down the drive, and by the time we reach the bottom step, Vincent is skidding to a halt, leaving two thick rubber lines on the immaculate drive.
Vincent pours out of his expensive sports car and barrels toward me and Colton. My hand is instantly released and Colton forces me back a step, keeping me away from Vincent's reach but the way Vincent stares down Colton, it’s as though I'm not even here.