I understood perfectly. This wasn't a request. It was a hostage situation. Come, or everyone I loved would pay.
"Where are you?" I asked, my eyes still scanning the horizon. "Right now. Watching me."
"Close enough." A smile in his voice. "But you won't find me. I've been invisible for thirty-two years, boy. You think you're going to spot me in broad daylight?"
"Try me."
He laughed—genuine, delighted. "There it is. The fight. The pride. That's my blood. You can't help it, can you? Even knowing what I am, even knowing what I can do, you still want to swing at me. Just like in your little pit. How many men have you beaten, Drogo? Fifty? A hundred? Did it makeyou feel strong? Did it make you forget where you came from?"
"I came from my mother. Not you."
"Your mother was weak." Cold. Dismissive. "She refused my help. Refused my name. Died in poverty because of her pride. And you? You fought your way out. Built an empire with your fists and your brain. That's not her. That's me. That's what I made."
"You made nothing."
"We'll see. Day after tomorrow. Gate seven. Be there, Drogo. Or I'll start making calls. And you won't like where those calls lead."
"If you touch her—"
"I won't have to." The smile was back. "You'll come. Because you're a good man. Better than me. And good men protect the people they love. Even from family. Especially from family."
The line went dead.
I kept driving. Hands steady on the wheel. Eyes on the road. Breathing controlled.
My whole body was coiled tight like a spring ready to snap. Every instinct screamed at me to turn around. Go to Alena. Get her somewhere safe. Hunt him down. Break him the way I'd broken men in the pit.
But I couldn't.
Because he was right.
He had leverage. And leverage was everything.
I forced my jaw to unclench. Rolled my shoulders. Made my face go blank—the same mask I wore in the pit, the same one I wore when investors talked numbers and I pretended to give a shit.
By the time I pulled into the paintball field parking lot, I looked fine. Calm. Normal.
Nobody would know my father had just threatened to burn down everyone I loved.
• • •
Why the hell did I agree to this?
The paintball field was chaos—exactly what I didn't need right now. But Marcus had been texting me for a week straight, and Lucy joined in with threats involving my kneecaps if I bailed again.
The door to the central area swung open and there they were—Marcus already geared up like he was going to actual war, Lucy rolling her eyes at him.
"Dude!" Marcus grabbed me in a headlock. "Thought you'd bail."
"Thought about it," I admitted.
Lucy gave me a once-over, sharp eyes narrowing. "You look like shit. Alena keep you up?"
My jaw tightened. "She had a nightmare."
"And you held her all night like the lovesick puppy you are," Marcus finished, grinning. "Yeah, we know the drill."
I didn't dignify that with a response.
