“I’m not a fuckingvisitor,” I snap. The guard’s eyes flutter rapidly, his face turning purple as he chokes around his inability to breathe. “I am Killian Scarano, and your men havekidnappedsomeone that belongs to me!”
His eyes roll back, and I toss the guard to the floor in disgust.Pathetic. If that’s how all the Irish guards are, it’s more shameful that my own men died. I barely notice Tony darting down to check the condition of the guard because my attention locks onto Callahan the moment I kick open the door. Callahan Ryan, Irish Captain and Cara’s father. He’s claimed that the trouble with the Russians comes from his bad decision to go to them for protection when the Snake was tearing through my own family. A decision that he couldn’t pay for, and thus when the Russians came collecting, Callahan came to us. A marriage in exchange for money and protection.
He brought Cara into my life, brought the Russians to my door, and now she is gone.
“You better start talking,” I snarl as I stalk towards his bed. Callahan struggles to push himself up against the pillows, his eyes wide as he stammers over his words.
“Killian! What—what are you doin’ here? I thought you were with Cara!”
“Don’t give me that!” I yell, and I can’t contain myself. Maybe it is the lack of alcohol and I’m simply unraveling from that. More likely - though, and I won’t admit it - it’s because what I feel for Cara has always been easy to deal with while she was within arms reach. Now that she’s been taken somewhere far away from me, it’s like my whole world is cracking at the seams. It doesn’t matter that we argue. It doesn’t matter that we don’t get along. She ismine,and I will not stand aside no matter who it is.
I lunge at Callahan, fisting my hands into his hospital robe and dragging him up to face me.
“This is you!” I yell in his face, “you and your bad deals and your scheming and your lying! Yourmentook Cara, do you understand me? The men that you told her she could trust, that she swore would protect her because they had been provided by you! They destroyed my home, and they stole her, and it’syour fault!”The guilt at leaving Cara surges up to choke me, and I can only spit out a yell of wordless rage as I shake Callahan, pulling one hand back, ready to strike him.
The punch doesn’t connect as thick arms wind around my waist and hauls me backward, away from Callahan. I yell again, watching as Callahan sags back into his bed, gasping. Thinking the guard is back on his feet, I swing my elbow backward, but as I do, whoever has me, releases me, and I spin around, coming face to face with Dante.
“Dante!” I exclaim angrily, “what the hell are you doing?!”
“I knew you’d come here,” Dante pants slightly from having to contain my furious struggles, and he grabs my arm, hauling me out into the corridor and away from Callahan. I catch a glimpse of the guard back on his feet and running into the room to make sure his boss is alright.
“He did this!” I snarl, calming slightly at the sight of my brother. He’s the last person I want to fight. With Dante between me and Callahan’s room, I start to pace the hallway in order to let out some of the pent-up energy surging through me. “His fucking lies and his bullshit excuses and his-his stupid plans or whatever. He did this. Hisownmen took her!”
“I know,” Dante says calmly, though I can hear the anger in his tone. This has likely taken him away from whatever Russian retaliation he was a part of, but I can’t bring myself to care. Everything else feels secondary to Cara. “You can’t react like this, Killian,” Dante continues, “if you harm him or kill him, whatever alliance we’re making with the Irish will crumble. Everything we’ve been working for will be for nothing, Cara or no Cara.”
His calm eyes meet mine, and I suck in a deep, trembling breath. He’s right. I know he’s right. It doesn’t calm the rage in my heart or the itch in my hands to punchsomething, but it gives me a moment to breathe, to think.
“Right,” I say, and my voice sounds oddly distant with the anger still thumping in my veins.
“I didn’t expect this from you,” Dante admits, and his hand lands on my shoulder, giving a comforting squeeze. I know what he’s implying. He thinks this is about Cara, and I want to tell him he’s right. But admitting such a thing would leave me too vulnerable, and I can’t stop the scoff that rises in my throat.
“They were in my penthouse. I trusted them inmyhome,and they destroyed it, making a mockery of me. Of us,” I say. I can see in Dante’s eyes that he doesn’t fully believe me, but he doesn’t press me. Instead, he leads me back into Callahan’s room, and it’s lucky he’s here as the sight of the Captain fuels my anger once more. I set my jaw so hard my teeth hurt, cross my arms tight over my chest and grip each limb to stop myself from lashing out.
“Callahan.” Dante approaches the Captain, who looks ruffled and wary. “Cara has been taken by your guards. People you entrusted to protect her. What is going on?”
Dante was always the diplomat. I watch as he approaches smoothly and talks with an air of control as if he already knows the answers. I’d admire it if I could calm down for even a second. I notice the Irish guard frowning at me, so I glare hard at him until he drops his gaze.Asshole.
“I don’t know why,” Callahan states, “I would trust these men with my own life, so it made complete sense to trust them with my daughter. But…” Callahan’s gaze lands on me for a moment, and I glare hard, daring him to lie one more time. “I did receive word that this had happened before Killian got here.” Callahan nods to his guard who pulls a phone from his pocket, taps the screen a few times, and hands it to Dante. Dante stares down at the device and frowns.
“Was this all?”
“No,” Callahan replies, “there’s a message too. They’ll kill her if I don’t cut all ties and reject all Italian intervention into Irish business.” Dante nods once, then glances at me. A signal that we are leaving. “I’ll take care of this,” Dante states before he glances cooly at Callahan’s guard. “And get better security.”
Out in the hall, it takes every ounce of my restraint not to rip the phone from Dante’s hand. He senses as much and shows me the photo. My heart clenches painfully in my chest as I stare down at a picture of Cara. She’s bound to a chair in a gray room, her eyes bright with anger, but there’s a split on her lip and a dusting of bruises on her arms. They took her from me, manhandled her, tied her up, and then had theballsto take a taunting photo? The phone creaks in my grasp, and Dante tries to snatch it back.
“Wait,” I say as I notice a man in the background of the photo. It’s a little blurry, but he’s familiar. “I know him. He was one of the guards stationed at my apartment.”
“Well,” Dante sighs, grasping my elbow and leading the way to the elevator, “that confirms the Irish are working with the Russians. Some of them, at least, Callahan seems to be in the dark about the whole thing.”
“Or he’s lying,” I snap. Dante shrugs.
“I don’t think so. Not about this. Whatever’s going on, he’s in the dark. I don’t think he’d put Cara in direct danger like this.” Dante falls quiet, thinking to himself as I stare down at the photo. There’s an odd flutter of feelings in my chest, a mix of relief that she’s alive and anger that she’s hurt. Someone else has marked her body wheremineshould be. “Perhaps he’s struggling more than we thought,” Dante continued, “maybe his own are turning on him.”
I grunt in response, still distracted by the picture.
“Killian.”
I look up at him, and Dante offers me a tight smile. “I trust you can handle this? Safely?”