I stand and take Caroline by the hand. “Look through all our footage until you find something. You will find him,” I say to my men. I turn to Lev. “Get Aren on the phone. And no one fucking leaves here without permission.”
They scatter, and Lev pulls up Aren’s information on his phone. He dials, and on the third ring, Aren picks up.
“Hello?”
“It’s Tomas,” I tell him. “Your brother-in-law. It seems we have a bit of a situation.”
“Oh, there’s no situation,” he says tightly. “You got my sister, now you get off my ass. I don’t owe you a fucking thing.”
My grip tightens on the phone and I take a deep, steadying breath. “I think you’re sadly mistaken. Your men have come after mine.”
“They haven’t. Christ, are you that bored with my bitch of a sister that you need to make up stories?”
Caroline’s wide eyes meet mine. She heard him through the speaker.
I turn away from her, reigning in the fury that pounds at my chest like wild stallions. “I told you to speak of her with respect,” I warn him.
“Oh, right. Sorry.”
The fucking prick.
“Find Andros,” I tell him. “One of my men was abducted last night, and our footage shows at least one of your men was here.”
Aren doesn’t respond at first, then after a moment, he mutters, “Impossible.”
“Not impossible. I have evidence.” What he doesn’t know is that we were fully prepared to go to war with his brotherhood. He’s merely given us an excuse. “You have until tomorrow morning to find Andros and report back to me, or I’m coming to find you.”
I hang up the phone. Caroline closes her eyes and rests her head on my shoulder.
“Is it wrong that a part of me hopes he gives you reason to hurt him?”
The question actually makes me smile. “No, sweetheart. Is it wrong that I’m not actually giving him a chance? Your brother has already earned what he has coming to him, whether he calls me back or not.”
She nods quietly, then closes her eyes and grips my arm tighter.
“He’s here, Tomas,” she whispers, her voice shaky and scared. The certainty in her voice chills the blood in my veins.
“Who, sweetheart?”
I hate hearing the terror in her voice. I will do whatever it takes to put her fears to rest, so she knows she need never fear any of them again. “Andros. I know he’s here. I don’t want to tell you how I know.”
“Tell me.”
“I… it’s like a sixth sense,” she says. “Whenever he was coming after me, I knew it before he came, and I feel it now. I haven’t felt this since I came here.”
I fucking hate that for her. Hate it.
I pull her so hard to my chest she gasps, wrapping my arms tightly around her. “He isn’t going to find you, Caroline. Not now. Not ever.” I’m not letting her out of my sight.
But I’m not going to run. I won’t hide. He can take me head on if he wishes because that’s the only fucking way he’ll get me.
I pace the room with her, the sky darkening out the window. I gave Aren until tomorrow morning to find Andros, but I’m torn between wanting to keep her safe and wanting to kill the bastards who dared come here.
“Get away from the window,” I tell her. I don’t trust that the men after her won’t scale the fucking sides of our compound. If I were the one after her, I’d stop at nothing.
But she’s staring at her phone and doesn’t respond.
“Caroline?”
The eyes that meet mine are wide with hurt and betrayal.
“Tomas,” she whispers. “How could you?”
I have no idea what she’s talking about. “How could I what?”
But she backs away from me toward the window.
“Get away from there.”
She stands as if frozen, staring at me then back to her phone.
“I thought our vows meant something to you,” she says. “I can’t believe I’ve been such a fool.” Her eyes fill with tears. I look to the phone in her hand. What is she looking at?
“Give me the fucking phone.” I’m walking toward her, but she’s backing further away.
“I found your shirt,” she whispers. I shake my head, still confused. What the hell is she talking about?
“The one with the lipstick on it,” she whispers, her lips quivering. “I thought it was something else. Blood, maybe, but my gut said otherwise. I couldn’t imagine you’d be with another woman.”
Christ.
“It isn’t what you think it is,” I tell her.
“Isn’t that what they always say?” She’s crying freely now, tears running down her cheeks.
“I can explain—”
“Also, what they always say.” She shakes her head and closes her eyes, her back pressed up against the large window. “I knew you couldn’t love me. I knew you never would.”
My pulse races, and I want to shake her. “If you don’t get the hell over here—”