Bought By Santa (Seasonal Obsessions #1)

Chapter 31

The Santa

S leep eludes me as the hours trickle by, and although I feel like I should get up and do something, I can’t bring myself to leave Carolina. She’s fast asleep in my arms, snoring softly.

When she first fell asleep, she was tossing and turning and whimpering like she was stuck in a nightmare of sorts. But for the past couple of hours her breathing has evened out, and she seems peaceful in her sleep.

Not for the first time, I hear a noise that seems out of place, but when I check my phone, there’s no update from Marco or any of the others. It’s probably just my imagination playing tricks on me.

As much as I hate doing it, I untangle myself from Carolina’s sleeping form and shrug on my clothes. Then I leave the room as quietly as possible. The need to do something to find whoever is really behind Willow’s death is stronger than my need to stay with my hellcat.

Though I haven’t told her that I suspect someone else is pulling the strings, I want to find the fucking puppeteer. Not just because no one crosses me and lives, but also because I’m eager to give her the gift of closure, of knowing all ends have been tied.

Walking through the dark halls of my home, I run my hand down my face. Like earlier, the thoughts in my head are swirling in a myriad of different directions. But now they’re all grounded in one simple root; it’s not a coincidence.

The ambush on Jack and then shooting Willow…

One might be a coincidence but two is a pattern.

The reports in my study don’t offer any more info than they did earlier, but something gnaws at my gut. I feel as though the answer is right in front of me, yet I’m still not seeing it clearly. With a final glance at the papers that don’t offer any answers, I head for the kitchen, needing something to drink.

Padding soundlessly down the hallway, I navigate the familiar shadows of my home. The kitchen’s just ahead, its appliances gleaming faintly in the moonlight filtering through the windows. I reach for a glass, filling it with water from the fridge. It’s when I turn, sipping the cool liquid, that my world tilts.

Marco, my right-hand man, lies sprawled on the tiles. Unconscious or worse. The glass slips from my grasp, shattering against the floor, splintering like the calm before the storm.

“Shit.” My voice comes out in a snarl.

Adrenaline surges as I kneel beside him, checking for a pulse. It’s there, weak but steady. No time to figure out what happened—there’s only one thought that consumes me; Carolina. I spring back through the hallways, every second stretching into an eternity. She’s alone, unprotected. My chest tightens, muscles coil ready to strike at anything that threatens her safety.

Bursting into the room, the sight that greets me ignites a primal rage within my veins. An intruder stands over the marital bed, a shadow with malicious intent, while my hellcat sleeps, oblivious to the danger looming over her.

“Get away from her!” The words come out as a growl. I launch myself at the bastard, tackle him mid-air. We crash to the ground, a tangle of limbs and fury. His surprise is to my advantage.

I’m a dark storm of fury as I pin the intruder to the ground, my hands itching to end his pathetic life. Every muscle in my body screams for vengeance, but there’s something I need more than his blood—answers.

“Who sent you?” My voice is a blade, sharp and deadly.

“Nick…” Carolina’s voice quivers behind me, but it steadies into something harder, colder. I don’t turn to look at her; I can’t risk losing my focus on this bastard beneath me.

“Tell me!” I demand, pushing the pressure point under his jaw with ruthless precision, promising silent death if he doesn’t comply.

“Okay! Okay!” He chokes out the words, eyes wild with fear. “It was Caspian!”

The name slices through me like ice, the betrayal by my own flesh and blood igniting a firestorm inside my chest. “Caspian? My dad?” I growl, disbelief warring with a rage that threatens to consume everything in its path.

I sense Carolina moving behind me, hopefully she’s covering herself up. Not that this fucker will survive the night, but that doesn’t mean I want him seeing what’s mine. That fucking settles it. I squeeze tighter around his throat, restricting his air until he becomes unconscious. Then, just for the hell of it, I kick him hard in the side, hearing a rib or two break.

Spinning around, I look at the love of my life, who has wrapped the sheet around her naked form. “Get dressed,” I bark. When she arches an eyebrow, I soften my voice and add, “Please.”

I fucking marvel when a smile spreads on her face. This woman has been my rock in the hospital, passed the family test with flying colors, and then been to hell and back, all of it happening within a span of three days.

Yet, she fucking smiles.

I thought I knew what strength was before knowing her, but now I know that isn’t true. She’s strength personified, and I’m lucky to even be in her presence. While I ponder that, I drag the intruder into the kitchen, which is closer than the room I usually reserve for torturing people.

I have him halfway onto the table when Carolina joins me, now dressed in a pair of black jeans, a tight black long-sleeved shirt, and knee-high boots. She looks more like someone that’s about to step onto the catwalk than watch while I torture the truth out of a stranger.

“I’m ready,” she announces as she finishes braiding her long hair. Her blue eyes flash with barely contained anger, and I fucking love that she’s no longer cold and distant.

“Whatever for?” I question with a wry smile. “You do know there’s no dress code for torture, right?”

“Yeah, but…” Pausing, she rolls her eyes. “I figured we might have to leave to do… I don’t know. Chase… someone? And I wanted to be prepared.”

I haul the intruder all the way onto the table. “Fair enough,” I agree, which it is. Not only has she passed her test, she’s the one he tried to attack. If my woman wants to see him burn, or chase him just for fun, I’ll give that to her.

“What can I do to help?” she asks, and when I ask her to go to my study and get some rope, she practically runs out of here.

The man is still out for the count when she returns, and while I ask her to go check on Marco, I tie the man to the dining table. It’s not exactly savory, but I don’t care.

As soon as he’s secure, I join Carolina who’s pulling Marco into a sitting position. He stirs, and before even opening his eyes, his hand shoots out toward her. “Marco!” I growl, batting the limb away.

“Hey big guy,” she coos—fucking coos—ignoring my attempt at shielding her behind me. “It’s just me. Well, us. Me and Nick.” She continues to ramble on, but it seems to help.

Marco groans and lowers his hand. His eyes slowly open, and I see the exact moment he registers it’s just us. “Where is he?” he growls. “The fucking coward attacked me from behind.” He rubs at the back of his head.

Carolina hisses, “He attacked you from behind?” sounding incredibly offended on Marco’s behalf.

While she gets up and pours some water for Marco, I catch him up on what happened; how I was getting a drink, and then that the intruder went straight for Carolina. “I don’t get how the hell he got in,” I finish.

Marco shakes his head. “The alarm never went off, and he didn’t use the elevator.”

Shaking my head, I replay the intruder’s words over and over in my head. Yeah, even if it wasn’t my dad, it was an insider. It’s one thing to scale the fucking outside walls and climb the building unseen, it’s an entirely different matter to know where the bedrooms in my home are.

“He said my dad’s behind it,” I growl, tasting the words and damnit if it doesn’t sound right.

“Why?” Marco questions, taking the water from her outstretched hand. “Why would he leave you in charge just to—”

We’re interrupted as the intruder groans, and as one, all three of us turn to watch his eyes flutter open. Next, is my favorite part; watching his confusion turn into fear as he realizes he’s bound tightly.

I get up first, pulling Carolina with me, taking her hand as we step closer to the table. Marco follows quietly, crossing his arms over his chest. He wobbles slightly, but it’s not enough to negate the grim expression on his face.

“Only a coward attacks someone from behind,” he growls menacingly.

I lean in closer, my voice low and dangerous. “You’re going to tell me everything, aren’t you?”

“P-please,” the man cries. “I’ve already told you who sent me. W-what more do you want to know?”

Letting go of Carolina, I reach under the table, gripping one of the knives hidden on the underside of the surface. “I just told you,” I sigh, showing him the knife in my hand. “I want to know everything.”

The man’s breath quickens, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape. But there’s none.

“It’s only a matter of how much pain you want to endure before you talk,” I say, my tone casual, as if we’re discussing the weather. I press the knife against his cheek, just enough to draw a thin line of blood. He flinches, a whimper escaping his lips.

“Please… I’ll talk,” he gasps, his voice trembling. “It was Caspian… he gave the orders.”

“That’s old news,” my hellcat hisses, taking a step closer. “How did you get in?”

“He… he told me how,” the intruder stammers, his eyes wide with fear. “He knew the layout, the security details. Everything.”

My grip on the knife tightens, rage boiling beneath the surface. Dad betrayed me. I should have known. I should have seen it coming. But instead, he’s been plotting against me, pulling strings behind the scenes. And this man, this pathetic excuse for a killer, thought he could waltz into my home and take what’s mine.

Pressing the knife deeper into his face, I elicit a pained cry from him. “Why?” I demand, my voice a low growl. “Why would he do this?”

“I don’t know,” the intruder sobs. “He just… he just said it had to be done. He didn’t give us a reason. I swear.”

“Us?” I echo. My blood runs hot and cold simultaneously; fury like I’ve never known before threatens to consume me whole.

“Yeah, man,” he cries. “I wasn’t the only one.”

I’d already deduced as much. “Do you know who the others are?” I snarl.

“N-no.”

“Call the three,” I growl to Marco. “I want them here within the hour.”

“Right away,” Marco replies.

While he makes the call, I do my best to get my temper under control. But judging by the screams coming from the intruder, I’m not entirely successful. When I look down, I realize I’m still pressing the knife against his cheek, and that by now, I’ve pressed so hard the skin has split completely.

Removing the blade from his mangled skin, I glance over at Carolina. Her eyes are locked on the man, but her expression is unreadable. I know she’s listening, taking in every word, but I can’t tell what she’s thinking.

I turn my attention back to the intruder, my anger simmering just below the surface. “You’ve made a grave mistake,” I say, my voice deathly calm. “And so has my dad. You’ve both crossed a line that can never be uncrossed.”

Finished with the call, Marco steps forward. “They’ll be here,” he confirms. “And I’ve arranged for double protection on Jack at the hospital.”

I nod at the man who’s always at the ready when I need him. “He’s all yours,” I say, flipping the knife and offering him the handle. “Have fun.”

Marco grins. He knows what needs to be done. There’s no room for mercy, no place for leniency. This man will suffer, and through his pain, we’ll send a message. No one betrays me and walks away unscathed.

As Marco takes over, I step back, letting the reality of what’s happened settle in. Dad’s betrayal, the intruder’s confession—everything has changed. This isn’t just about power anymore. It’s personal. And I’ll make sure that he pays for what he’s done.

“Wait!” Marco halts his movements at Carolina’s demand. “Did Caspian make my sister a target?” she asks, her tone chillingly sharp.

The intruder whimpers as he shakes his head. “N-no. That was an accident.”

“An accident?” I growl, already knowing what he’s going to say next.

“We were sent there to kill Carolina, but—”

Carolina lets out an inhuman scream and pulls the knife from Marco’s hand. Before I can react, she plunges it into the man’s eye socket. She doesn’t even flinch at the squelching sound, or the intruder’s scream.