Page 157 of Unlock My Heart

My wife loves me. I grin like an idiot.

“And you’re sure about this plan, boss?” Saint asks as we position the dummies inside the back of all the SUVS in my fleet. “Mrs. Calvani is going to be livid.”

A tortured groan escapes me. And just when I’ve finally pried open Sienna’s heart. Damn, I’d best be getting some kneepads for my impending groveling. “She will be, but one problem at a time.”

Getting the scene situated, I climb into the middle of the back row, with Saint driving our vehicle. We make our way across the city to the sketchy industrial warehouse district, perfect for this little play to unfold.

The warehouse door opens, and we pull at the vehicles inside, with Kirksey’s crew watching from across the street in an abandoned warehouse.

Everyone hustles to the underground panic room, where I close and lock the bunker door. Kirksey’s proven his MO is bombs, and this baby will survive a nuclear fallout.

We wait. And wait. And wait.

I’m a patient man, but I can’t shake the feeling that something’s off.

Pulling up the security feed from the house, I find Sienna and Lacey in the work studio, and panic floods my body; my wife was supposed to be in the panic room. Switching to the exterior camera feed, it’s hard to see over the mist of crimson spotting my vision.

Jermaine’s opening the back gate, and a crew of Kirksey’s men swarms inside the property.

“This was a setup! We need to get back to the house!”

“Boss, wait, are you sure?” Saint attempts to halt me as I shove him out of the way, opening the door.

I call Sienna as I sprint to the vehicle, and she answers on the third ring. “Get to the panic room now! Run!”

She swallows loudly. “Can’t.”

Sienna

The present

“End the call, and slide your phone across the floor to me,” Kirksey commands with his gun drawn.

The panic in Fabien’s voice lingers after I’ve ended the call, doing as Kirksey commands.

He squats down and retrieves my phone, cracking it with an ominous crunch. “Nice studio,” he muses, taking a look around. He strolls over to my bust, his grubby fingers touching the lace veil, and I dig my nails into my palm.

“Thanks, but I’m not giving studio tours at this time.” My tone is light, but my heart feels like it’s beating out of my chest.

That gets a chuckle out of him.

“Why are you here instead of the warehouse?” Acting confused, my forehead bunches. “I gave you Fabien on a silver platter.”

“Here’s the thing, doll. When you stopped answering my texts, I was worried you had a change of heart. When Jermaine confirmed you’d switched over to team Calvani, I made a course correction.”

Jermaine! He was the one who told me it was safe to leave the panic room. That’s what I get for halfway trusting anyone from my old life.

“It wasn’t a bad plan, Fabien faking his own death; it’s just that my plan is better,” he says smugly.

My brain has a difficult time processing his words as I stall for time. “What is it you want from me? I fulfilled my end of the deal.”

“You didn’t think I was going to let my new madam slip through my fingers?” Kirksey tsks.

“I didn’t accept your offer,” I remind him.

“Wasn’t an offer, doll,” he informs me. “Spoils of war. You’re my new right-hand girl, and Al is going to take her place as my new wife.”

“Alessandra?” My eyebrows lift skyhigh. Despite the gun in his hand, I chide, “She’s too young for you.”