Page 46 of King of Temptation

“What’s wrong, cousin?” Killian asked as Brody freed Lochlan from his temporary accommodations.

“Someone has Goldie. Her father came barreling into my interview, demanding to know where she is.”

Expression hardening, Killian gave a single, sharp nod. “All right. We’ll find her.”

He met his cousin’s burning gaze, and found his own fury reflected back at him. “I’m going to end them, Kill. Whoever took her, whoever laid a fucking finger on what’s mine. I am going to end them. Tonight.”

“I would expect nothing less.”

Goldie

* * *

Even in her most outrageous books, Goldie couldn’t think of a single time one of her heroines had managed to find themselves bound to a chair in an abandoned warehouse twice within the same twenty-four-hour period. It was the kind of thing her readers would have rolled their eyes at and claimed it defied any suspension of disbelief they might otherwise be willing to give her.

And yet, here she was, sitting on yet another cold metal chair, in yet another goddamn warehouse, the fury churning in her gut making her vaguely nauseous.

“This is getting ridiculous, Brody!” She didn’t bother to yank on the cuffs chaining her to the chair this time, preferring instead to reserve her energy so she could punch Brody O’Rourke in his pretty face as soon as he released her. “Whatever stupid point you’re trying to make doesn’t need all this extra bullshit. This is the literal definition of a meeting that could have been an email.”

“I’m afraid Brody isn’t here right now.”

The man who stepped out of the shadows looked like he’d just walked off a movie set. Despite the silver in his hair, he didn’t look much older than Killian, with a jaw that could cut glass and sharp hazel eyes.

Sharp, shrewd, and completely soulless.

Oh, god.

“Who the fuck are you?” She’d been trying for fierce, pissed off warrior, but to her never-ending humiliation her voice cracked on the question, giving away the fear that was currently snaking up her spine.

A smile curved the man’s almost-too-perfect face. “Apologies for my rudeness, Ms. Quinn. My name is Richard. I’m a… friend of the O’Rourkes.”

That name. She knew that name from somewhere. And even though she couldn’t pinpoint where she’d heard it, she knew deep in her bones this man was no friend of Brody’s.

Which made it all the more disconcerting that he knew her name. Something about his tickled the back of her mind, but it was shrouded over by fear and panic. Reaching for a calm she didn’t remotely feel, she did her best Aria impression, raising a single brow up at the man with the cold eyes. “Then you won’t mind getting them on the phone. I’d like to have a word.”

Richard’s smile widened, a show of teeth that had fear expanding to full-blown terror. “There will be plenty of time for that when they arrive. Your father likely tipped them off already, so they should be on their way soon.”

“Whatever beef you have with me and the O’Rourkes, you leave my father the fuck out of it.”

So much for playing it cool, the way she imagined Aria would. The newest O’Rourke seemed so unflappable, like nothing could truly upset her. Why couldn’t she be more like Aria?

Wait. Aria. Aria had texted her, letting her know about the arrests. That was the whole reason she’d been at the station in the first place. “Where’s Aria?”

“At the station with the rest of her degenerate family.”

Frowning, Goldie tried to think, tried to work through the puzzle in front of her. “No. She texted me, letting me know her family had been arrested. She asked me to come, to meet her there.”

Now it was Richard cocking an eyebrow, staring down at her like she was a student struggling with what should have been an easy question. And the truth of what had happened settled like ice in her bones. “That wasn’t Aria.”

“I knew you’d get there eventually,” Richard said with a low chuckle. “It’s actually ridiculously easy to clone a phone number, you know. Even easier, it seems, to trick a police sergeant’s daughter into doing something breathlessly stupid.”

Fuck. Doing her best to pretend like her heart wasn’t trying to leap right out of her chest, she jerked her chin up. “What do you want with me?”

“You?” Richard snorted, the sound so dismissive she couldn’t help but feel a bit insulted. “You, my dear, are merely the bait. Something to dangle in front of the O’Rourkes to get them where I want them.”

“Why?” Maybe if she could get him talking like a supervillain, she could buy some time.

Buy time for what, exactly, she had no idea. But she had to do something other than simply sit here and be bait.