Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 104729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
“I had nothing to do with either attack. But certainly not the one that almost took Nix from me.”
“I’m inclined to believe you there.” He looks off into the distance at the water. His tense shoulders seem to ease. “Someone is trying very hard to make it look like it was you, and I want to know why.”
“Competition,” I blurt out.
Alaric raises a brow. “Your father is my only competition, so how does that make sense?”
“There has to be a third party,” I state. “Someone who must have been just starting out back then. It would make sense. He tried to kill you, his plan failed, but in turn, it still worked.”
“How do you figure? I was alive. My brother was dead. How did that work?”
“Because you were focused on my father. You spent all these years focusing on the wrong person.”
“If what you’re saying is true, I was focusing all my resources in the wrong place, then what was the objective with your father?”
“They probably thought your men would retaliate, which you tried to for years. My father has been in hiding ever since. I was in hiding. But then I stepped out … Perfect bait.” I use his own words.
“For more than just you …” my father says, his hand lifting to rub his temples.
“What?”
“This war flushed me out too.”
Everything goes slow from that moment on. I hear Alaric scream. I watch horrified as he jolts from his chair, jumping in front of my father, pushing him out of the way … and only then do I register the red light that was shining on my father’s chest.
49
Alaric
The first thing I do is make sure Phoenix is okay. Then I scream for Cristian.
The rest of my men are running toward the table.
“You hit?” I ask Michael. His face is pale, clearly in shock.
“No … you saved me.”
“I did.” My voice is monotone.
This is my fault. Phoenix is here, and there’s been an attempt on Michael’s life because of me.
My stomach turns violent as I realize I might have put my baby and the woman I love in danger.
“You’re bleeding?” Phoenix shouts, and I look at my shoulder, and sure enough, there is blood.
“It’s just a graze.” I look at Cristian. “Get the shooter. He couldn’t have gotten that far.”
I need to find him and make sure there will never be another attempt on Michael’s life.
“Where do you want me to bring him?”
I look around, noting the buildings around me. Although this is private, I can’t run the risk. “The boat.” He nods, knowing exactly where I want him.
Once Cristian runs off, Michael turns to me. “I want in.”
“That can be arranged. He did try to kill you, after all.” I don’t say it was on my authority, but I’ll cross that bridge when I need to.
Phoenix goes to speak, and I lift my hand. “Nope, you will be sitting this one out.”
“But—”
“You need to rest.”
“I’m not helpless.” She groans.
“I know you’re not. Fuck, you are one of the strongest people I know. But you are pregnant with my baby, and even if this is the only time you listen to me, you will listen. You will go to my stateroom and wait for me there.”
She pouts, but she doesn’t object.
After I wash off the blood, I head down to the lower level of the boat. To the room I built especially for this.
For anyone asking, it’s a storage room.
Storage for what … now, that depends.
Sometimes, I store equipment. Sometimes, it’s guns. Today, it’s a man tied to a chair.
As I’m about to enter, my phone rings … A text.
Matteo: It was called off.
My movements halt as I stare at the phone.
Me: Are you sure? Because there was just an attempt made on his life.
Matteo: 100% sure.
Fuck. Then who do we have in my storage room? More confused than before, I place the phone back in my pocket and swing the door open and stride inside.
“Do you know this man?” I say to Michael as he follows behind me and then walks to where I am.
“Do you?” he asks.
“Never seen him before.” Moving to where he is, I’m not standing directly in front of him. “Who do you work for?” He smiles but doesn’t answer.
“You think this is funny? You won’t find it funny after I torture you.”
“Do your worst.” He snickers.
I step forward, my fist flying and hitting his face. When I pull back, he spits blood, and this time, when he smirks, his mouth is full of blood.
Stepping back, I signal for Michael. “He tried to kill you. It’s only fitting that you torture him.”
Gun in his hand, Michael steps in and fires a bullet into his shoulder. The man lurches forward, but with his limbs tied, there isn’t anywhere for him to go.
“I have seven more bullets. Something tells me you’ll eventually talk,” Michael says, but by the crazed look in this man’s eyes, I’m starting to think we should just throw him overboard.