Ravenous Kingpin (Kingpins of the Syndicate #4)

29. Emory

CHAPTER 29

Emory

T wo weeks.

I’d been married for two weeks, and Killian, vigilant as ever, monitored my every move. I expected it, but I also knew I couldn’t keep expecting Ines to cover for me. I’d been on the phone with her daily, and although she reassured me everything was okay, I knew that it wasn’t.

Killian was about to board a last-minute flight back to New York, leaving me behind like a caged bird, but there was no way I’d remain here, helpless. I refused to twiddle my thumbs while everything I’d built in Vegas was going up in smoke.

I was worried. Ines had been on edge lately, insisting she was being followed. The fear in her voice when we spoke was a little too real, and despite the fact she worked for me, I considered her a friend. Even more importantly, she was under my protection.

The Tijuana cartel sent another shipment last night that was supposed to be intercepted, and I wanted to make sure it’d gone smoothly.

So I dialed her number. I’d drag it out of her, and if I had to, I’d demand Killian fly me back to Vegas tonight. I was the kingpin and he knew who he was marrying, so whether he liked it or not, I’d get my way.

The ringing went on forever. No answer.

I glanced at the clock. It was noon on the East Coast, so that meant it was nine in the morning Pacific time. She’d be in a car on her way to the office after her daily visit to her father. I tried again. No answer.

My brow furrowed, my eyes flicking to the clock.

“Why isn’t she answering,” I muttered to myself as I redialed, feeling the panic bubble up.

Riiing. Riiing. Riiing.

“Hello,” a deep baritone voice answered and I stiffened.

“Who’s this?”

“Try and guess.”

My jaw tightened. “I’m not in the mood for games. Who are you, and where is Ines?”

As I waited for an answer, my eyes traveled out the window to the black clouds hanging over the lawns. It struck me as symbolic, seeing as my own anxieties were swirling, on the verge of crashing down. I stood stock-still, gripping my phone and debating what my next steps should be.

“Don’t worry about Ines anymore.”

“If you hurt her?—”

A deep baritone laugh sounded on the other line, cutting me off. “You’re in no position to make threats. Besides, the goal was to snatch you during the movement of the product .” He had to be talking about the girls. “But since Ines was at the scene of the crime, she’ll have to do.”

The line went dead and guilt slithered its way into my heart. This was my fault. I shouldn’t have allowed her to cover for— no , this was Killian’s fault. For keeping me here. For forcing this marriage that made no sense. For still holding on to that night six years ago.

Didn’t he see I was no longer the same girl? Couldn’t he just forget me and move on like he was supposed to?

But even as I thought that, I knew it wasn’t his fault. None of it had ever been his fault. In fact, I didn’t want to be forgotten by him, because I had never forgotten him.

Against all odds, for six years, I dreamt that Killian would somehow barrel back into my life with a golden sword and slay everyone who dared to hurt me, then rescue our daughter.

Thankfully, my common sense had prevailed, and I saw that waiting for a fantasy would only lead to disappointment. And so I worked tirelessly to get my daughter back in the only way I knew how.

However, I was now left wondering if I’d caused more harm than good.

I tightened my grip on my phone, my instincts flaring up, and I scanned the tree line. It didn’t take long to find a familiar pair of blue eyes, zeroed in on me.

He was heading to his helipad, his gaze never leaving me. God, this man. He could be so kind yet cold and ruthless. Stubborn, but also agreeable. There were even times when he’d considered my advice, waiting to make a decision based on the opinions I was all too willing to offer.

There weren’t many men in the criminal world who did that. In fact, most hated to see women in charge and would sooner marry us off than allow us to sit at the same table. But not Killian.

I gave my head a subtle shake.

None of that mattered if Killian was determined to keep me shackled here while the people I cared about were out there taking bullets for me.

As Killian’s helicopter took off for the city, my mind worked furiously. He made one crucial mistake yesterday and he didn’t even know it. I overheard him issue an order to the guards—no man was to hurt me or touch me. A glaring loophole if I’d ever known one.

Once the sky was clear, I got to work.

I sent a message to Priest asking him to get me the location on áine King.

Entering the walk-in closet, I dug out a pair of leggings and one of his shirts. I made do with what I had, and by the time I was dressed and armed with one of my husband’s weapons, I had what I needed.

Priest was that fucking good.

Then I strutted down to the garage like the most confident bitch to ever walk this earth.

A row of luxury cars welcomed me, but I wasn’t impressed. My brother and cousins had the same fascination with cars, collecting them like they were toys. To me, it seemed very impractical. You only needed one vehicle to get you from point A to B, but try explaining that to men.

I snatched the keys I needed off the rack, then clicked the signal button to ensure it wasn’t a Lamborghini I’d chosen. When I noticed which one lit up, my lips curved into a smile.

Jeep Rubicon.

I made my way to it when a voice stopped me from behind.

“Ma’am.”

“I’m going out,” I announced, my steps never faltering.

His feet thudded behind me. “I have instructions?—”

“I don’t care,” I said, waving the keys in the air as I climbed into the Jeep. “Get in my way and I’ll run you over.”

It was so easy—too easy—I was almost disappointed.

Shifting into drive, I pressed a sneakered foot on the pedal, the engine revving and sending vibrations through my whole body, and took off. The guards ran out behind me and waved their hands to get my attention. I waved back, smiling smugly as I sped out of the garage, down the long, curved driveway, and off the property.

áine King better have some answers for me.

Though I knew Killian would be pissed off when he learned what I’d done, I was confident I was doing the right thing. Ines was in danger. The girls who were never picked up were in danger.

It could be Bogdan Dragovi?. After all, Ines said he’d gone berserk and begun acting recklessly when his niece turned up dead—not that anyone could blame him. That sick Serbian don could have gotten his filthy paws on Ines and be torturing her right now.

By the time I reached the location of the restaurant that Priest sent me, my senses were on high alert. I triple-checked the restaurant’s blueprints and the magazine of my gun before exiting the Jeep.

Once inside the restaurant, I scanned the dimly lit room and found the redhead seated at a table having a dinner date with her husband. My chest tightened at the sight, but I ignored it. It didn’t take long for her to spot me and I gave her a terse nod before striding purposefully through the restaurant and toward the hallway in the back.

Then I waited as my mind churned a million possibilities about what could have happened to Ines and the trafficked girls.

The sound of heels clicked against marbled tile and áine finally appeared.

“About time.”

“It’s date night with my husband and you’re crashing it, so be grateful I’m even giving you this time,” she muttered, pinning me with a glare.

Her ruined date night was none of my concern.

“I told you when we agreed to this contract with The Rose Rescue that accountability is important to me. I don’t give second chances.” The Rose Rescue was áine King’s side business, an organization started by the former British prime minister, who happened to be her adoptive father. They rescued and moved trafficked women to shelters and ensured their ongoing safety. “I thought you were trustworthy.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, and I don’t appreciate the accusation in your tone.”

Fury bolted through me. “I’m talking about the scheduled pickup that seems to have been intercepted.”

She blanched. “You never informed me.”

I gritted my teeth. “I sent you a message to the same number as always. Did you fucking change it and not tell me?”

She straightened her shoulders. “No, I didn’t change it.”

Something much more nefarious popped to the surface, and as I narrowed my eyes on her, more intense and focused now, I snapped. “You were supposed to be there.”

“Like I said, I never got your message.” áine leveled me with a cold stare.

I got in her face, my anxiety about Ines’s safety ratcheting up by the second. “Aren’t you worried about those girls? They’re gone, áine.”

My voice pitched higher and she glanced around, wary of onlookers. At this point, I couldn’t give two shits.

“Lower your voice,” she threatened. áine King hid her lethal side behind her feminine curves and warm, inviting face, easily fooling anyone who didn’t know better. Petite frame. Red hair. Blue eyes. Her princess-like upbringing primed her to be a true weapon in our world.

My heart pounded as I stared at her, fury—at her, but mostly at myself—shooting through my veins.

“The woman I promised to protect has been taken,” I hissed. A few passersby watched us questioningly before scurrying away. “You say you never got the messages coordinating the rescue of the trafficked girls, fine. But that means you’re compromised.” I slammed her body into the wall, catching her by surprise. “So yes, you insolent fucking piece of?—”

I never got to finish the statement.

One moment I was in áine’s face, and the next, someone was grabbing me by the collar of my—Killian’s—shirt. My feet left the ground and my back hit the wall, a savage face filling my vision. Tall with broad shoulders and tattoos that made him look dangerous. And he was so powerful and cunning that no one dared to cross him or get on his bad side. I’d think back on this day and my foolish choices as a “desperate times” kind of situation.

“Get your fucking hands off my wife,” Cassio snarled, closing his savage grip around my throat and suffocating the life out of me.

I kicked at his shins and clawed at him in an attempt to peel his tattooed hands off of me. But all I managed to do was piss him off further.

“Wait, she didn’t hurt me.” His wife was right beside him, watching the scene with an exasperated expression. “Her temper got the better of her.”

“She should learn to control it, then.” Cassio slammed me into the wall again, rattling my teeth, and I cursed myself for not being stronger. Although, to go against this man, you’d have to be taller and have muscles on muscles. “You ever touch her again, I’ll bury you alive. Now apologize.”

“Fuck. You.” I tilted my chin, stupidly giving him even more access to my throat. “She fucked up. It’s obvious her position is compromised.”

I should be smarter. Less stubborn. Definitely less proud.

But that was neither here nor there. I was done being bullied. I was done being told what to do. I was just done .

Something moved in my peripheral vision and then Cassio was shoved away from me, letting me go in the process. I staggered and a strong hand wrapped around my shoulder, pushing me behind an even stronger frame.

That familiar scent and warmth I had my fill of over the past few weeks surrounded me, and a part of me—the one I thought long dead—couldn’t resist the urge to lean into Killian and borrow his strength.

He’d turned my life upside down, but at this moment, it didn’t matter because he was here .

I stared up at him, but his entire focus was on Cassio King and his wife. “Don’t fucking lay a hand on Emory ever again. In fact, don’t even look at her.”

Maybe he was my knight in shining armor after all.