I was just stepping into the elevator when my phone buzzed in the back pocket of my jeans. Pulling it out I let out a groaned sigh.
Gavriel: Text when you're inside.
I rolled my eyes so hard my head ached. Was he serious? Like I didn't know how to walk myself into a goddamn building.
Elin: I'm inside. Your boys are parked downstairs like nice little puppies. Satisfied?
Gavriel: Send a pic.
I groaned, but snapped a quick, blurry selfie against the mirrored elevator door, my sweat-smeared makeup and flat look of disgust front and center.
Elin: Happy now?
Gavriel: Yes, my Goddess.
Elin: Good boy.
Elin: I know that I agreed, but this is a little overboard.
Gavriel: We will have to agree to disagree. I need to keep my Goddess safe.
Elin: You are so going to pay for this.
Gavriel: Yes, Goddess.
I smiled at my phone as the double doors to the elevator opened and I stepped in. Taking a long deep breath, I leaned against the mirrored door. I was exhausted. Today had been a rough one. One of my clients had needed an extended session. He had a complicated relationship with his dad, and our work helped him process the trauma he was trying to heal from. My arms were going to be sore from the lashings today, my legs, too, from how long I’d had to stand on one leg in five-inch heels, with one of my feet over his balls as I’d flogged his chest.
I couldn’t wait to collapse on my couch for a bit before we opened tonight. My pretty boy would be here before too long, and I was looking forward to spending a few private moments with him.
When I got to the door of my office at the club, though, it was ajar, which would be normal if I had been here at all today, butI hadn't. Opening it slowly, I went inside, half-expecting to see Don Azzaro.
But I didn’t see anyone. Not in the bathroom, not behind my desk. Shutting the door, I ran my hand over the lip of the jamb, looking for a tripwire or other device, then double-checked the bathroom and my desk. When I went to open the closet to check in there, the door moved slightly, scaring the shit out of me as it swung to reveal Rhea curled up in the corner. “Elin . . .” Her face was a mess of mascara-streaked tears and blood from a split lip. One eye was already swelling shut, and she was cradling her right arm against her chest.
"Rhea?" I rushed to her side, my exhaustion forgotten. Fear rushed through me. "What happened? Why are you here? Who did this to you?"
She flinched when I reached for her but then recognized me and collapsed against my shoulder. "I didn't know where else to go," she whispered. "Gavriel is handling something for Father."
"My god, let me help you up." I guided her to the couch, my hands trembling as I assessed her injuries. The cut on her lip looked superficial, but her eye was concerning, and the way she held her arm suggested a possible fracture. "We need to get you to a hospital."
"No!" Rhea's voice cracked with panic. "No hospitals. They'll report it."
I grabbed the first-aid kit I kept in my desk drawer and knelt before her. “You left the house?”
“Yeah. Just needed to go to the store for tampons.” She looked up and her gaze was hard in the one eye I could see as she said, “And I wasn’t asking my brother or any of his goons to buy them for me. So, I told the guys at the house I needed to go to the store. Once inside, I’m not sure how we got separated, but we did. I’d run for the back of the store, where Ben and Hector were waiting for me. We ran out the back, but… Ricky wantedto . . ." She swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to her lap. "After they killed everyone, he tried to—he said he wanted to 'sample the merchandise' before delivering me to Don Juarez." Her voice hardened. "I fought back. Got his gun, shot and downed two of his men. The rest ran for cover, so I just got out of there."
"Ricky who?"
Her uninjured eye welled with fresh tears. "Ricky Mendez," she whispered, the name falling like a stone between us. "He came with eight men. They . . . they killed them, Elin. Shot them right in front of me. How did they find me so quickly?"
My blood turned to ice. Ricky Mendez was one of Juarez's most brutal enforcers, known for his particular cruelty toward women. "I don’t know, but I’m sure Gavriel and Harley will find out.
I dabbed antiseptic onto her split lip with a cotton ball, watching her flinch at the sting. My fingers were steady against her swollen skin as my mind raced through escape routes, safe houses, and the inevitable bloodshed that would follow once Gavriel saw his sister's battered face. The metallic scent of blood mingled with the sharp chemical, making me wrinkle my nose. "Why here? Why not go back to the penthouse where it’s fortified?"
"Father would look for me there first," she said, wincing as I dabbed at a cut near her hairline. "And Juarez has men watching Gav's. Heard the guys talking about it last night.”
I gave her an even look as to say‘And you still left?’
“I know I know. Hindsight is twenty twenty. Anyway, I needed somewhere safe, somewhere they wouldn't think to look right away."
