“Who told you my grandmother was your birth mother?” I ask, knowing he might get angry and slap me, or hurt me, but I need to know. I have to figure out how he would believe her over his father.
“Your grandmother graciously provided a test.” His voice is pure grit and gravel, once again sounding just like his brother’s. But something doesn’t make sense. Why would she agree to a test or provide one when she knew he would want to hurt me, or Lycan for that matter?
My grandmother is strong-willed, and she’s not someone who would give in so easily. Not even for her own son. My father had to beg and plead for any and everything he wanted, and he’d have to work his ass off before she even considered his request.
“What if she lied to you?” My voice is a low whisper, praying he doesn’t lose control in the small space of the basement. “I don’t think Grace is your mother. I’ve known her my whole life, and something doesn’t make sense.”
“Oh?” Darius arches a brow. “And what is that, princess?” he sneers, using the moniker in a condescending tone which ripples through me.
“My grandmother isn’t someone who would offer information about herself without a price attached to it.” I keep my gaze on his, hoping he can see the truth in my eyes. I can’t afford for him to get angry right now, because if he can trust me, perhaps he’ll let me go.
At least, I hope so.
“She will always want something in return. I doubt she told you to hurt me, or to kill Lycan.” Guilt flickers in his gaze, and I wonder if I hit the nail on the head.
Darius pushes away from me, the chair rocking on its legs, and I pray it doesn’t fall over again. Thankfully it doesn’t. Cold seeps through me from my feet on the icy floor, and the chilly air that surrounds me has me shivering.
“I’m done with this bullshit,” Darius says suddenly. “You’ll stay here until I figure out what’s going on.” He spins on his heel, his gaze landing on me. For a moment, he says nothing, but then he shrugs off the suit jacket he’s wearing and settles it over my shoulders.
“Thank you,” I say, grateful for the bit of tenderness he’s offering. “If… If you hear anything…” I’m unsure how to ask him what I need to, but I hope he’ll know what I mean.
His gaze lingers on me, taking in my face as he moves up the stairs without responding. I want to scream, to beg him to tell me the moment he hears news about Lycan’s condition, but I don’t. Pleading doesn’t work with him.
But the moment I let out my breath, Darius surprises me by slowly turning to regard me from the threshold, then nodding. “I’ll tell you if I hear anything.” He turns to leave, and I watch him walk up the steps until he reaches the door. He stops, glances at me once more before he says, “I’ve never seen him in love before. No other woman has ever affected him like you do.” And then he’s gone, leaving my heart bleeding for more news on Lycan’s condition.
When Lycan told me to run, he promised me he’d be okay, that he would come for me, but if he’s in the hospital, I don’t know how he’ll ever find me. Perhaps he’ll have Kahn and his team come for me. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll survive this.
I have to.
Glancing around the room, I take in the shelves on either wall. There’s a small window beside the top shelf to my left, but I could never fit through it, even if I could get loose. A metal table sits to my right, and on it are tools—a spanner, a hammer, a few screwdrivers—but I have a feeling they’re used for anything but fixing things.
The stench of blood is rife through the small, stuffy space. A thought comes to me and I quickly shimmy the chair over to the table. If I can stand, I can reach for something on the surface, untie my hands, and perhaps I can free myself and get out of here.
I’m not sure how many men are in the house or even on the property, but I can’t sit here and wait for Darius to return.
By the time I’ve shifted toward the table, the door creaks open, and soon enough, I’m staring at a young, tattooed guy who looks at me as if I am his next meal. He takes the stairs one at a time, slowly, predatory, and I realize I’m in trouble if he gets a hold of me.
“Boss man says you’re off limits,” he says, his accent thick, but I can’t quite place it. When he reaches the last stair, he jumps to the ground with both feet landing hard. “But I enjoy breaking rules.” His lips curl, and his eyes flash with dangerous hunger as he regards me.
“I think you should listen to boss man,” I whisper the moniker given to Darius, because I can only imagine what he would do to this boy if something happened to me. I’m the reason he’ll get paid, and if I’m hurt, my father won’t give these bastards a cent.
The young man closes the distance between us. The threat of him being so close sends ice racing through my veins, a shiver wracks my body as he stops inches from me. I’m not in the best position to fight back. But I want nothing more than to hurt him if he touches me.
I’m married.
Those two words steal the air from my lungs. And the thought of Lycan in hospital hits me right in the chest. I double over, a sob breaking through my fear as
