Dante shrugs.
“Do you think he’s like that in bed?” Lily asks.
I stare at her until there’s a knock at the door and I use that as my excuse to leave the room. Kato and his men are waiting outside. I let him in, and a discussion recommences on the best way to take Kristian out given Griffin has firmly chosen a side.
“You’d think he’d switch sides after what Kristian did to Pascal,” Lily mutters.
“You’d think,” I say, agreeing with her.
Ten minutes later Lorcan returns, a lot less angry than when he left, with a chilled bottle of wine wrapped in tissue paper. He hands it to me.
“There. It’s all they had in the liquor store in the high street,” he says.
I glance down. “Château Margaux. Not bad.” I lean in. “Kristian is going to know I’m not there for dinner,” I say.
“Who gives a fuck what he thinks,” says Lorcan. “She belongs to us.” After a pause he glances at Dante and adds. “All of us.”
I look up and catch Dante’s eye. He nods when he sees the bottle. Lily smirks and stalks up to me.
“Can I be your date?” she asks, linking her arm through mine.
I furrow my brow at her. “Fuck no.”
The house seemslike an ordinary townhouse in Marylebone. To look at it you wouldn’t think Viola was inside being held hostage. Five fucking days. I dread to think what might have happened in that time. I’m standing alone at the door waiting to be let inside. There’s a camera in the corner of the doorway so I know Kristian is watching me, trying to make me sweat.
Dante, Lorcan, and the rest are farther down the street waiting for my signal—that Viola is inside. If she’s not, I’m going to skin Kristian alive. Viola doesn’t belong to him. Maybe she never belonged to us, but she sure damn well doesn’t belong to my fucked-in-the-head brother.
Viola deserves more than that.
A lot more.
One of Kristian’s heavies opens the door after ten whole minutes. He grunts at me to come inside, checking behind me to see that there’s no one on the street. Then he pats me down, taking the gun I have under my suit jacket. Kato gave it to me as we drove here, but like Viola, I fucking hate guns. Kristian killed our father with one. They make death easy, and killing should never be taken lightly.
I follow him inside. The place is sparsely decorated. Monochrome. Not my taste at all. Definitely Kristian’s. I enter the open plan dining room which is white walls, a black leather sofa and a stark white coffee table on one side, and a shiny white kitchen with black metal fittings on the other. In the middle dividing the room is a black rectangular dining table made of metal and glass, and six black leather chairs around it.
Viola is sitting in one of the chairs looking for the world like the most devastatingly beautiful girl on earth. She’s wearing a gold and black corset dress that wraps around one shoulder with full skirts. Her hair is loose, and her lips are glossy and ripe for kissing. She looks a million dollars. She doesn’t look like she’s a hostage until I see the bandage on her wrist; is dirty and there’s bruises around her neck. He’s painted over the cracks. He’s made her look pretty on the outside, but he’s treated her like shit. Just like he does with every girl my brother finds. He takes independent, strong women, and breaks them down until they’re nothing. Then he forgets he even owns them and moves on to his next victim.
Viola gives me a blank look, but it’s not a broken or an empty one. She’s still fighting. And I love that about her. Even though I know that Kristian kills the women who won’t break. That’s what happened to Nancy, his ex wife. And what’s going to happen to Viola if I don’t get her away from him soon.
“Baby brother, welcome to our home,” says Kristian. I didn’t even notice him sitting at the far end of the table until he stands up. I shift my gaze to Viola as he comes over to kiss me on the cheek Italian style. “Little Sword has brought us some fucking good wine,” he exclaims as he takes the bottle from my hands and examines it.
Our mother’s side of the family is from Italy. That’s where I got my nickname Dino. I was my mother’s ‘little sword’. I was the one always trying to protect her from our father. Since my mother is a crazy bitch who still prefers me to him, my brother likes to remind me at every turn. He uses it now to distract me. I’m hot and irritated inside, but I can’t show that to Kristian until I’ve let the others know Viola is here.
“You’re calling a safe house your home now? Why did you bring Viola here?” I say, trying to keep my face neutral.
Kristian’s smile stays firmly in place as he opens the wine and pours out three even glasses. “You know how I like to have a little solitude. And we’ve had that in spades, haven’t we, baby?” he says, eyes brighter and shinier than they should be. He’s usually on something.
He offers me a glass of wine and indicates to a seat opposite Viola. I take it, giving Viola an intense look, hoping she realizes I have a plan. I haven’t just turned up to hope for the best. I’ve just said the code word, her name, out loud so that Lorcan can hear. Before I entered the house, I called Lor and kept the line open so that they can listen to everything. Dante, Lorcan, and even Kato should be breaking the door down any fucking minute.
I need to act normal until they do.
Viola stares back as I break contact and force myself to look at Kris, who has taken a seat next to Viola and takes a sip of his own drink.
“You left me to clean up your fucking mess, you mean,” I say, ignoring my sweaty palms, forcing myself to relax my clenched jaw.
Kristian frowns, running his eyes over me. “And what’s the problem? Griffin’s boys haven’t stopped distribution.” He places his wine down and leans back, eyes on me.
“Our business with Duke—”