CHAPTER Three

Lucas' Pov

The first scream broke before the blood hit the floor.

Drip.

Drip.

The sound echoed through the room, crawling into my skull. I sat back in the chair, elbows resting on the armrests, cigarette burning between my fingers while the man tied to the steel frame shook violently.

He was younger than the last one we broke. He is probably in his late thirties. Sweat soaked his shirt, his breathing jagged, and his eyes rolling as if he could escape by not looking at us.

Rafe stood in front of him, his sleeves rolled up, and his hands already red. He worked without emotion, cutting shallow lines never enough to kill, never enough to knock the bastard out. Pain was more useful when it lingered.

I exhaled the smoke slowly.

“Again,” I said.

Rafe didn’t hesitate. The blade slid in, and the man screamed so hard his voice cracked halfway through. He jerked against the restraints, the chains rattling, his knees buckling as piss spread down his leg.

Pathetic.

I leaned forward, resting my forearms on my thighs. “You’ve had two hours,” I said calmly. “Two hours to tell me why one of my men ended up dead in his own house. Two hours to explain how outsiders got access to a location only six people knew about.”

He sobbed.

“I...I don’t know,” he cried. “Please, I swear...”

I raised my hand. Rafe stopped instantly, stepping back but keeping the blade ready.

I crushed the cigarette out in the ashtray beside me. “Don’t lie to me again,” I said. “I’m running out of patience, and you’re running out of skin.”

His head shook violently. “I didn’t mean for anyone to die. I swear on my children.”

That earned him a humorless laugh from me.

“Funny,” I said. “Because Elias swore the same thing once.”

Elias. My right hand. My brother in everything but blood. Found slumped in his bathtub three nights ago with a bullet in his skull. No forced entry and no struggle. Someone had walked him to his death.

Someone he probably trusted.

I stood up slowly and walked toward the man. He whimpered as my shadow fell over him.

“You knew where Elias lived,” I said. “You knew when he’d be alone. You knew which nights he didn’t carry.”

His lips trembled. “I only passed the information. I didn’t pull the trigger.”

I leaned down until my face was inches from his. “Then tell me who did.”

Silence.

Rafe stepped forward again, his blade glinting under the harsh light.

“Wait,” I said.

The man broke.

“It wasn’t a gang,” he sobbed. “It wasn’t a syndicate. I swear it wasn’t...”

My brows drew together. That was new.

“Talk,” I ordered.

“It was a couple,” he said quickly. “A man and a woman. They are wealthy. They didn’t look like criminals."

My chest tightened.

“They contacted me first,” he continued. “They Offered me money. A lot. I refused, but then they showed me files which contain information of some names. They said they already knew who Elias was.”

Rafe cursed under his breath.

I straightened up slowly. “Why would civilians want one of my men dead?”

“They weren’t civilians,” he said desperately. “They’re connected people. They are dangerous people hiding behind respectable lives.”

I folded my arms. “Names.”

His eyes darted around the room, like death might suddenly feel more real if he spoke.

“I don’t know their real ones,” he whispered. “But the woman, she mentioned her daughter.”

That stopped me cold.

“Her daughter?” I repeated.

He nodded frantically. “She said this was to protect her future. To make sure no one stood in the way of what was coming.”

I felt something shift in my chest.

“Go on.”

“They wanted Elias out because he was investigating them,” the man said. “Digging into their old accounts and laundering trails.”

My jaw clenched.

“So they killed him because of that,” I said flatly.

“Yes.”

Rafe’s grip tightened on the blade. “Who are they?”

The man swallowed hard. “The Harringtons.”

The name hit like a gunshot.

I turned away slowly, walking back toward the chair. The Harringtons weren’t unknown to me.

They are prominent and untouchable. They are philanthropists on paper but monsters underneath.

“And their daughter?” I asked.

The man hesitated.

I looked over my shoulder. “Say it.”

“She’s recently widowed,” he said. “Her husband died under strange circumstances. After that, their financial situation collapsed.”

I froze.

That wasn’t part of any file I’d read.

“She’s struggling,” he added. “She is in Debt. The parents were desperate to secure alliances. Eliminate threats.”

My fingers curled slowly.

“So you’re telling me,” I said, “that Elias was murdered by two parents trying to protect a daughter who doesn’t even know what they are.”

He nodded.

The room went silent.

Rafe stared at me, waiting.

I turned back to the man. “Did the daughter know?”

“No,” he said quickly. “She has no idea. She thinks her parents are saints.”

That sealed his fate.

I pulled the gun from my waistband and shot him dead.

His body went limp instantly.

Rafe exhaled slowly. “What now?”

I stared at the corpse for a long moment. Elias’ face flashed in my mind. His laugh and his loyalty.

“Now,” I said, “we return the favor.”

****

The office felt colder than usual when I walked in.

Rafe followed me inside, the laptop was already open.

“She doesn’t know anything,” he said. “I checked it. There was no criminal ties."

I poured myself a drink. The whiskey burned into my throat going down.

“Show me.”

He turned the screen toward me. Her face filled the display. She didn’t look like the daughter of killers.

“She’s twenty-five,” Rafe said. “With no security and no protection. She was taken briefly by loan collectors the day her husband was buried.”

“She’s getting married,” Rafe added.

I snapped my head up. “What?”

“The engagement was arranged quickly to Luca Moretti.”

I laughed bitterly.

“The bastard collects wives like trophies.”

“It’s a political move,” Rafe continued. “I think he was trying to secure an alliance with the Bratva, the loan collectors."

I stared at her image again. She looked breakable.

“Cancel it,” I said.

Rafe looked at me unsure of what I meant. “How?”

I set the glass down slowly.

“We will take her.”

He frowned. “Kidnapping her will start a war.”

I met his gaze. “They started it when they killed Elias.”

“She doesn’t deserve this,” Rafe said carefully.

“No,” I agreed. “But she’s the only thing they love.”

And love was the sharpest weapon.

“She won’t know who I am,” I continued. “Or why this is happening.”

Rafe closed the laptop. “When?”

“Tomorrow” I said. “Before the wedding." 

I turned toward the window.

The Harringtons thought they’d protected their daughter by killing my brother.

They were wrong.

She was about to learn what monsters really looked like.

And so were they.