“I thought the same,” he nods, frowning when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Pulling it out he checks the screen and then heads out the room, answering it.
I cock my head at Ainsley, the side of her face is red, turning purple as the bruising starts to take shape, “Not like you to pull down your guard, what happened?”
She shakes her head, “Won’t happen again.”
“Make sure of it.”
She grumbles something and then stands, exiting the same way Ryker did and then I’m alone again.
Why the hell did I set her up in the bedroom?
This isn’t a fucking hotel and she definitely is not a guest. She’s the means to an end. Not even a bargaining chip.
She’s revenge.
Cold hard revenge.
My words taunt me.
She’s completely and utterly innocent.
They’re not wrong.
It wasn’t hard to figure out that he had sent her away when she was young, young enough for her not to remember who he was and put her with another guy in his inner circle so he could keep an eye on her and pull whatever strings necessary to ensure her life turned out the way he wanted it to.
I wasn’t interested in the little guys. It was Marcus Valentine I wanted.
The only reason I even found out he had a daughter was because his men are weak as fuck and turned the moment I pressed a barrel to his temple. No loyalty. No integrity. That canary sang until he was blue in the face.
And I found Marcus’ weakness.
Though I should have dug deeper. Pushed harder. I would have figured out quick enough she wasn’t close with him. It struck me odd that she was staying at the Lawson house, he wasn’t high up in Valentine’s command which meant I wouldn’t have looked at him twice unless I needed to. The intel I picked up didn’t show the link to Lawson, only Valentine. I didn’t dig deep enough.
That was a mistake I would never make again.
My impatience to finish this far outweighed all else.
I needed to move her back down to the room below, she’s the enemy and I needed to treat her as such.
I head towards the door.
“Lex!” Ryker storms into the room, “We have a problem.”
“What?” I bark.
“The warehouse is on fire, Valentine torched it.”
“Fuck!”
Wren will have to wait, I grab my keys and the jacket discarded over the back of the chair and head out, Ryker falling into step behind me as I dial the fire chief.
“You better get that blaze under control,” I growl down the line.
“Silver,” Chief Donald Arthur was an old git and a grumpy bastard, and he made sure every damn time I called I knew he was unhappy to hear from me. I didn’t care, he was a pawn as much as every other fucker in this city, sitting pretty in my pocket and to be called upon whenever I needed it, there wasn’t a choice in the matter, “Who’d you piss off now?”
“I don’t think you heard me, Arthur,” I throw myself behind the wheel, Ryker climbing into the Range Rover next to me.
“My best guys are down there but it doesn’t look good.”