I make a mental note to inform Jensen of the fact my father and his sick buddies may be more aware than we thought of his movements. Instead of engaging further, I throw him off the scent with a subtle dig in his direction.
“Shame, really. Not all family is worthy of our time,” I clip, holding his focus and adjusting my cufflinks. He knows precisely what I’m referring to, and if looks could kill, I’d be ten feet under. My lip curls at knowing I hit the nail on the head. There’s a reason my father keeps Vector around, and another reason Vector hates me and Czar so much. He’s one of his many bastard children, and despite him being aware of it, he’d happily marry Sienna, his half-sibling, in order to take a higher position in the Mafia. A twisted fuck to the core, and on more than one occasion, I’ve pointed out to my father the issues inter-marrying can create in the birth of children with hopes it dispels any notions of Vector with my sister.
He’s the first to look away, and I smirk, then head in the direction of my office. I push open the door and am unsurprised to find Czar already in here with his ass in my chair and feet up on my desk. I can rely on the fact he will have checked the room for bugs already.
“Have you finished it with the maid?” I ask, and push his feet to the floor.
“She’s not a fucking maid,” he snaps back, then his face softens as if thinking about her. “She’s a schoolgirl.” A cocky grin plays on his lips, and I groan, knowing this is going to bring trouble we could do without.
“Our father has asked me to make sure you end it. You’re putting her life at risk, Czar,” I snipe back. He really can’t be this clueless. One minute, I wonder if he should have been born first, then I’m reminded of his idiocy and am grateful for being the oldest.
“Everything’s fine.” He waves his hand in my direction as if I’m being dramatic. “He’s too preoccupied with the next auction to care about me. Besides, the fights are going well, the money is rolling in, what’s it matter to him where I’m sticking my dick?”
“He wants you married off in a business deal, Czar.” His face twists in anger.
“He wants you to marry Larissa, but you haven’t done that either, have you?”
I tilt my head toward the ceiling and blow out a breath, then roll my head toward him. “Can you just tone it down with her?Be safe.” I emphasize the latter.
He snorts. “Are you asking me to stick it in her ass instead of her tight-as-fuck pussy?”
Is he serious right now?
Anger builds inside me. Why can he not be serious for one minute?
“I swear her body was made for me, and there’s no way in fuck I’m not going to witness my cum drip out of her…”
I don’t give him a chance to finish before I fly across the desk and grab him by the throat. “Do not get her pregnant. Do you understand me?” His face reddens; my fingerspress harder. “Do you fucking understand me?” I bellow in his face, and a choked gasp splutters from his lips, forcing me to release him, and he sags back in the chair, wheezing for air.
Then I drop in the chair and drag my hand through my hair, my chest heaving as I try to rein in my lack of control.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I’m about to ignore it, but then I remember the small niggling feeling from earlier and pull it out to glance at it. When I see Jensen calling, I’ve no choice but to answer it.
“Yeah?”
“Azrael?” There’s gunfire in the background, and my body seizes up. “Azrael, get the fuck back here.” Panic swells inside me, and I already know she’s hurt. It resides in my soul, and it’s terrifying. Call it intuition, a premonition maybe? All I know is my girl, my fucking heart, is in agony, and I left her to face it alone. “I had to shoot the house up, man.” I don’t register what he’s trying to tell me; all I care about is her.
“Jensen? Jensen, is she okay?”
My brother’s gaze meets mine; his terror-stricken face mirroring my own.
“No, man,” he pants out, the horror in his voice clear. “She’s not okay; she never will be again.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Azrael
Czar drives through the streets with urgency, shouting orders down the phone, and if I could construct a sentence right now, I’d tell him he’s a natural born leader.
“I want fucking confirmation the house is secure, do you hear me?” he barks. He swerves around a truck, and I grip the oh-shit handle. “Give me a body count within the next five minutes,” he shouts, then steals a glance at me before his attention darts back to the road. “Put your fucking seatbelt on,” he snaps, and as if he’s commanding my body, I comply. “Pull yourself together, Azrael. Whatever we’re walking into there, she’s going to need you.” His grim words cause my stomach to twist the same way it did when I was forced to carry out vile acts I detested as a child, and I hate the way old wounds are being torn open, leaving me exposed. Czar scans over me and shakes his head. “You’ve lost your fucking head.” He stabs his finger into the side of his forehead. “Get your fucking head on straight!”
As we speed toward the mansion grounds, I unclip myseatbelt, pull another gun from beneath my seat, and check the clip before I tuck it in the front of my pants.
The gravel kicks up as he races toward the entrance, and I’m about to throw open my door until Czar grips my arm, pulling me back.
“Be the man she needs you to be. Make our women proud.” I know he’s not just talking about Hevan; maybe he’s talking about the redhead too, but deep in my tortured soul, I know he’s reflecting on our past as much as I am. “Be worthy, Azrael. It’s what they deserve.” I give him an abrupt nod, then throw open the door and head into destruction.
Chapter Forty-Six
