Page 17 of Claimed By the Silver Fox

“And that business is what, exactly?” he asks. “How much did he tell you?”

I swallow hard. “Not much,” I admit. “I just know that it’s…”

“Outside the law,” he finishes for me. “Which means that my enemies operate outside of the law too. So any protection I have, it needs to come from me. And I’m sure as hell not going to risk letting something happen to you because you’re too stubborn to see that.”

I flick my eyes back and forth between his. “So, this is how it works now, then?” I ask. “You tell me what to do, and I just…accept it?”

“If you know what’s good for you.”

There’s almost a threatening edge to his voice—or perhaps I’m imagining it there because I’m a little terrified of him right now.

I know that he won’t hurt me himself, no—not after what he said to me the night of the wedding, when he told me that this marriage was intended to keep me safe. But what does safety look like, under his control? Is it anything close to the freedom I knew before I was with his son, or is it just more walls closing in around me, under the pretense of keeping me safe?

I don’t know, and at this point, I’m all too aware that I have no choice but to find out.

I part my lips, considering arguing with him further, but I’ve already gone as far as I can without sending him over the edge. I wonder what else has happened, to shift his mood from last night and turn this into something that I seem to have such little say in.

“The guards will be at your door all day and night,” he continues, before I can get out another word. “Anything you need, you can ask them, and they’ll pass it along to me.”

“And what if I want some time to myself?” I retort.

His eyes narrow slightly. “You can have it when I know you’re safe.”

And with that, he turns on his heel and marches back up the corridor, leaving me standing there and staring after him.

I want to yell after him—when exactly is he going to decide that I’m safe? What is it going to take for him to believe that I’m not at risk here? And how long does he intend on using that as an excuse to do pretty much anything he wants?

I turn back into the bedroom and pull the door shut behind me, flopping down on the bed with a long sigh.

Shit.

I don’t know what I got myself into here, when I let that man slip the ring onto my finger. Maybe I should have gathered my skirts and run for my life before I let anything else happen, promised myself a new start somewhere far from this family, far from these men, as crazy as that sounds to me now.

Or maybe I would have run into one of the threats that Antonio seems so convinced are lurking just around the corner for me. I have no idea. But it looks like Antonio is going to do everything he can to keep me from finding out.

Burying my head in the pillow, I let out a muffled scream. I have never done well with feeling trapped—and yet, once again, here I am, locked away with no hope of escape.

Even if the man locking me away seems certain that it’s for my own good.

8

ANTONIO

“Where is he?”

I scramble out of the car and cast my gaze around, surveying the damage. Shit. I knew it was going to be bad, but I didn’t think things would take a turn this quickly.

I run a hand through my hair as I take it all in, the smoking remains of one of our main warehouses. An underground bunker beneath an old office building that we used as a front for years—a place that has gone untouched for as long as I can remember. Nobody would have been able to get close enough to do any damage to the warehouse, not without prior knowledge, but I have to assume that the threats my son made about handing off information to that Salamanca fucker have come good.

“He’s waiting inside,” the driver, Martino, tells me, as I lean against the car and try to figure out what the hell I should do next. It’s more than I can wrap my head around, seeing a place I’ve poured so much time and effort into completely destroyed in front of me. The office building has caved in, the doors blown open like torn paper, and the bunker itself is a smoking wreck that will be useless for anything other than scrap metal.

I force myself forward, resting a hand on my gun, though I doubt anyone is still in there. My men already cleared the place after the initial attack happened, searching for any survivors after Salamanca and his men closed in on the building. We have guards stationed at every warehouse round the clock, but they were soon overwhelmed, wiped out faster than we could send out reinforcements.

There is one survivor. Just one. Cesc, one of my longest-serving guards. He’s been with me since day one, practically helping me build this business before he stepped aside to watch over the guards of my warehouses, organizing their shifts and vetting each and every one before they begin working for me. I would trust him with my life, and I wish he could say the same about me, but after something like this, I’m not sure I have the right to claim such a thing.

I pick my way through the building, heading to the office where I know Cesc will be waiting for me. We sent a few medics ahead to see if there were any men who could be saved, and it seems like Cesc is the only one who made it. I know what I want to ask him, though I’m not sure if I’m ready to hear the answer.

I want to know if Andreo was involved.