Quick, hurried, to the point. My chest clenches, cold fear rippling through me—and a stab of pain, too. Niall texted me, but Connor hasn’t. Which means either he’s hurt—or he just doesn’t care enough to let me know.
I don’t think I need three guesses to figure out which it is.
And then, I read the second text.
Not how I wanted to tell you, lass, but it’s not looking good. I love you. Always have. Always will. I hope I see you again, Saoirse—but now you know.
I stare at my phone, hand shaking, barely registering that Sofia and Caterina’s phones are going off too, probably their husbands letting them know. They’re all in the warehouse today for that meeting, Connor’s parley, all of the Kings, and everyone with them.
My father. Connor. Niall--I feel a shudder of fear starting to ripple through me, and I want to scream or cry, but I do neither of those things.
I can’t think about how they all might be about to die or how some of them could be dead already. I can’t think about how Niall just told me he loved me and that he might never get to do so in person or if I even want him to. I can’t think about how Connor didn’t bother to text me at all.
I’m the wife of the man who will be the Irish King, one way or another, and that means it’s my job to keep everyone else calm. To manage this.
“We need to go.” I shove my papers into my bag. “Come on. Caterina, Sofia, one of you call your driver so we can go together. Maggie, can you get Sasha back to the hotel where they’re staying, so she’s not alone?” It’s already occurred to me, after what Connor told me about a possible spy, that the fire might not be an accident. Which means any of us could be in danger, even the Andreyev household nanny.
“What’s happened?” Maggie asks, looking confused and worried.
“Connor’s warehouse is on fire. They’re all inside.” I shoulder my leather bag, motioning for everyone to follow me. “Staff will clean up. Let’s go.”
“Is Max with them?” Sasha blurts out, her voice shaking, and I see Caterina shake her head.
“I don’t think so,” she says gently. “Come on. Maggie will go with you. Don’t say anything to Anika or Yelena.”
Shit.I’d forgotten that when Caterina came back to Boston, she’d brought the kids. They’ve been through enough. The last thing they need is for their stepmother to return to the hotel this evening with the news that their father is dead now, too, after losing their mother years ago.
They’ll be alright, I tell myself as we get into the elevator, texting the other wives of the Kings, my mother, and anyone I can think of who might want or need to know what’s happening.Connor is smart. They all are. They’ll get out.
I have to believe that. I can’t bear the thought of this being the ending to all of this, after how hard I fought to get Connor here, how hard he’s been working towards taking back the Kings. And Niall—
I don’t know how things will end with us, but I know it can’t be like this.
I can’t lose nearly everyone I care about in one fell swoop like this.
As we hurry out of the building, Maggie hustles Sasha towards her car, while the three of us pile into Caterina’s rented town car. I give the driver the address of the warehouse, and then all we can do is sit in stunned silence as he pulls out into midday Boston traffic.
Sofia looks ghostly pale, her hand pressed to her midsection. Caterina doesn’t look much better, her hands knotted together in her lap. I know they’re thinking the same things I am—how could this happen? Was it an accident or something worse? Are they alive? Safe? Hurt? Terrified?
I can’t imagine the fear of being trapped in a burning building. Just thinking of it sends chills up and down my arms, ice crawling down my spine as I wrap my arms around myself, trying not to think. Not to imagine all the horrible things that could be happening right now.
Connor’s warehouse is old. It needs repairs and upgrades. He hadn’t wanted to do too much to it since it would only be used for storing shipments once he could use the Kings’ main headquarters as his own. I don’t even know if it has functioning fire escapes.
We’re trapped.Niall’s text haunts me. It feels as if the drive to the warehouse takes forever, as if every red light and snarl of traffic is a personal attack.
As if it’s all conspiring to keep us from our husbands.
I can see the smoke before we reach it. “Why wouldn’t they call for help?” Sofia asks desperately, and I glare at her.
“They won’t want to deal with the questions that could raise if they can avoid it. Our husbands’ businesses aren’t exactly on the up and up.” I give her a look that clearly says it’s a stupid question, that she should know something like that by now. “The Boston PD is paid off, but it’s still more trouble than it’s worth, unless there’s no other option. And even then, they might not get there in time.”
There will be an emergency response anyway, eventually. Someone will see the smoke and flames and call. It’s just a matter of whether they get out first or not, if the fire trucks get there in time if they can’t, and if the fire burns up all the evidence that the cops could use against Connor if they chose to. My father can likely keep Connor out of trouble, but he doesn’t have the protection of the Kings yet.
Sofia looks away from me, clearly miffed by my tone, but I don’t care. Itwasa stupid question, and I don’t care if she knows that I think so.
I don’t care about anything except getting to the warehouse.
It’s just the three of us as the car comes to a stop. None of the other wives would know where it is, and my mother is hardly about to come out here to see if her husband has made it. She’ll wait for me to contact her and see if her husband comes home. There isn’t exactly love between my parents, only the bond of familial duty and my mother’s pleasure in my father’s money.