“Meaning this doesn’t look like a deep fake, Shep, and there’s record of an explosion. I don’t know how, but it looks like Theo?—”
Alessio didn’t even get his final words out before I cursed and ended the call, because I knew exactly what it looked like, and the only way it was possible.
That sneaky motherfucker…
I pocketed my phone and stormed back toward the house. I heard Lucien call out my name, but I was zeroed in now. Nothing else was distracting me, and nothing was going to stop me from getting the truth.
All I had to do now was find Theo.
8
THEO
IRUMMAGED THROUGH the fully stocked bar until I found a bottle of cognac that was one of Benoit’s favorites, and figured our fellow brother wouldn’t mind my indulging in his stash. The villa—as with all of the places we collectively owned around the world—was outfitted with each of our favorites: spare clothes, luxury toiletries, and anything else we’d needjust in case.
I was grateful in that moment that it included alcohol. I’d seen the way Shep had been staring,andthe way he’d tried to fight it, and that was an interesting development.
The in-demand bachelor everyone creamed their pants over was having thoughts about going another round with me, and I had to admit I was hoping he’d fall off his high horse and onto my dick. But he was a stubborn ass who didn’t do things lightly, so the reality he’d come back for seconds was slim to?—
“Theo!”
Shep’s voice echoed through the house and had me stopping mid-pour. He didn’t sound desperate or needy for an orgasm, unfortunately, more like he wanted to throttle someone with his bare hands.
“Sounds like someone needs a drink,” I called back before grabbing a second glass and giving him a healthy pour.
His footsteps were quick and angry, and as he entered the room, I held out one of the glasses for him to take.
“Here,” I said. “Take the edge off.”
Shep ignored the alcohol, his eyes shooting daggers into mine as he walked over and reached for my arm.
“What are you—” I started, but then he pushed up the cuff at my wrist to reveal a small scar…and I was fucked.
Shep’s fingers dug into my wrist to the point of pain, but I didn’t flinch, not even when he took a deep breath to steady the sheer fury vibrating off him.
“What thefuckhave you done, Theo?”
I jerked my arm out of his grasp and set his cognac aside.“It’s not what you think.”
“No? Because it looks like you took the tracker out of your arm, the one all of us have for our safety.Allof our safety, you selfish shit. So don’t tell me it’s not what I think, because I know better.”
So this looked pretty bad, but he didn’t know that?—
“The video wasn’t a fake,” he continued, taking a menacing step toward me. “It took place in Istanbul, yet somehow your tracker was in Monaco at the time of the bombing. Care to explain that?”
I crossed my arms and leaned back against the counter. “Not really.” But I wasn’t an idiot; there was no getting around what I’d really done at this point, and I’d just have to suffer through the incoming wrath from all sides.
“Dammit, Theo?—”
“Fine,” I said, and then grabbed my glass and took a long sip. “I wasn’t in Monaco. I was in Istanbul. But I didn’t blow up any buildings. Why would I?”
“Oh, we’ll get to that later, but for now, why don’t you explain what you were doing in Istanbul in the first place?”
I shook my head. “Can’t tell you that.”
“Come again?”
“Well, I would if you’d take your pants off?—”
