34. I Need To Know How She Can Get Out

Sven~

There are things that easily raise my temper.

Reeves being disgustingly sweet to Rayna, for instance.

Or something smaller—like my teacup being placed on the right side of the tray instead of the left.

But nothing, and I mean nothing, pisses me off more than disobedience.

And Venus? She was the walking embodiment of it.

I glared at my phone, the vein in my temple throbbing as frustration built.

The damn device was seconds from being crushed into pieces before Carlos snatched it out of my hand.

“Jesus, boss,” he muttered, tossing it between his palms like it might explode. “You’ll break another one.”

I said nothing, which, in practical terms, was worse than actually speaking.

He sighed, glancing at the phone. “So I’m guessing she didn’t wait?”

I replied with a death stare. Seriously, what's with my pack members and acting dumb?

“Alright,” he raised his hands. “Dumb question.”

Silence stretched, heavy and suffocating.

Then I said, low and clipped, “Track her. Now.”