“You want us to be allies?” Bash’s eyes bulge. “You understand how this works, right? You know the meaning of mutual trust? You kidnapped the woman I love, and now you want to be best friends.”
The woman I love.
I know my brother better than I know myself but hearing him say the words out loud only cements what I already knew. What does this mean for us? Before I can get caught up in questions I’m not emotionally equipped to answer, I remind myself that she is missing, and I would do anything, say anything, give anything to keep her safe.
“Oh, I don’t want to be your best friend, Bastien,” Isabella is still talking. “I want to work with you.”
“Why would we agree to that?”
Bash stands back from the table, giving Isabella her personal space. It could be seen as an acceptance of defeat, but she doesn’t acknowledge it as such.
Kyle’s expression gives nothing away. “What my brother means is, what’s in it for us?”
“My knowledge of the Quinns’ operations. Their five-year plan for expanding in New York, Chicago, and Washington. I can help you stay one step ahead of your rivals?—”
“Whoa, stop right there,” Bash interjects. “Their five-year plan means fuck all if the Quinn heir gets murdered and they decide to get payback on the Murrays.”
“If you get caught.”
“You already had the cops coming down hard on my brother.”
“It’s sorted,” I say. I need to keep Isabella on track. Find Remy first, then consider her proposal. “Help us stay one step ahead of our rivals how?”
Isabella turns to me, unfazed by Bash’s outburst. “Who do you think staged Remy’s abduction? Who do you think infiltrated the Quinns’ system, and scraped copies of every bank account, every prospective real estate purchase, every fake invoice and contract they’ve ever signed?”
“Does your fiancé know about this?” I ask.
“Would I be here if he did?”
“If we agree to this, what happens next? How can we trust you to keep your word?”
“I’ll bring Remy back to you within an hour.”
Isabella’s legs are crossed demurely at the ankles. There is no sense of urgency in the way she delivered her speech. I’m starting to believe that she knew we had a deal before we even entered the room.
“I can’t believe you’re taking this seriously,” Bash blurts out. “What happens if we don’t agree?” he asks Isabella.
“Then I’ll handle George Quinn my own way.” Isabella stands up. “But the Murray reputation might not fare so well.”
“Are you threatening us?” Bash is in her face, and I stand between them, pushing him away and motioning him to calm down.
I turn around to face Isabella. “What about Remy? What happens to her?”
She narrows her eyes, trying to read what’s going on inside my head. Or maybe it’s my heart that she’s looking at. “You’ll just have to trust me.”
“Where is she?” Bash shoves me aside.
Kyle is on his feet and shielding the young woman with his frame. “Calm the fuck down, Bash. This isn’t over yet.”
Bash raises his fist towards our brother. “Don’t fucking tell me to?—”
His words are drowned out by the fire alarm sounding in the building.
My body acts on muscle memory. I dash into my office, power up the screen, and locate the source of the alarm.
“Executive suite on fifty-seven.”
Terry’s team will already be on the case, but I’ve had it drummed into me since I was old enough to learn the ropes: never assume that an alarm doesn’t require your attention.
