Page 4 of Taming a Ruthless Heart

Our families belong to the same syndicate so I know he will help me no questions asked.

“On it.Just tell me where to send them.”

After giving him the address, I hang up and pocket the phone again.I push the start button and the engine roars back to life.I shift into gear, peeling out of the alley, the bodies of Igor’s men lying cold behind me.I tell myself that’s what’s bothering me—the bodies, the recklessness of our attack.But I know better.It’s not the cops I’m worried about.

War’s coming.I know it.Hell, I’ve been waiting for it.The Irish Brotherhood’s got my back, and I’ve got the firepower of the whole Syndicate to end this once and for all.

But as I grip the wheel tighter, the gnawing feeling in my gut refuses to die.

I’ll win the war.I know that much.

But will my heart survive it?

I push the thought away, forcing my eyes on the street ahead.This is what I signed up for the moment I answered her call.There’s no turning back.No matter how dangerous it gets.

Hours later, I stand from my chair in the main office of my hotel chain, stretching to undo the knots in my back.The floor-to-ceiling windows reveal the bay, boats glinting in the night lights.I hadn’t noticed it had gotten so late.

A soft knock at the door.Greg, my head of security, comes in, carrying a small wooden box.

“A courier just delivered this,” he says, setting it on my desk.“I’ve checked it.It’s safe.”

He slides open the lid, and my stomach churns at the sight inside: a severed ear, an earring of gold, and tiny emeralds glinting in the low light.I know this earring.I was with Alexia when she bought that jewel for her nanny.

“Motherfucker!”The curse grates from my throat as I pull a folded sheet of paper from the box and open it, staring down at Igor’s scrawled message.

I have Alina.

I will kill her.

I’ll keep killing everyone you know

until you return Alexia and Rose to me.

2

Alexia

The first thing I’m aware of is the cold creeping across my skin, seeping through the fog clouding my mind.It’s like my sluggish mind is detached from reality and I’m floating in some in-between dimension.My head throbs, a dull pounding at my temples, and my mouth is dry, parched as if I’ve swallowed the entire Sahara.Slowly, awareness filters back, and the fog lifts just enough for me to register the unfamiliar feel of the sheets against my body.

The sheets are soft and my senses start to stir as I slowly push myself up.My arms shake weakly, as if I’ve been asleep for days.Blinking, I try to focus on my surroundings, but the room spins.I grab the mattress edge, steadying myself as the nausea rises, burning my throat.I close my eyes, take deep breaths, and swallow hard until the sensation subsides.The air smells faintly of leather and something sharper—cologne, perhaps—though I can’t place it.There’s a strange familiarity to it, but it makes my skin tingle with uncertainty.

When I reopen my eyes, my vision finally steadies and I take in the room around me.It’s large but shrouded in shadow, the heavy curtains pulled tightly across the windows, blocking out any natural light.The walls are paneled in dark wood, giving the room an old-world atmosphere—a luxury one.A crystal chandelier hangs above, its sharp edges catching the dim light from the bedside lamp.The oversized bed beneath me is draped in luxurious silk sheets, cool against my skin.The entire place exudes opulence, but instead of comforted, I feel oppressed, suffocated.

I glance down at my wrists, and my breath catches in my throat.Bruises.Angry red marks where the zip ties had cut into my skin.The sight of them sends a jolt of fear through me, and I jerk back instinctively, scrambling to get to my feet, remembering how I got here.My legs wobble as I stand up and grip the bedpost to steady myself.

Where am I?

My pulse quickens as unforgiving memories rush back.Igor’s men grabbing me, their hands rough, shoving me into the back of the limo.My heart pounds at the memory, and my hands fly to my throat, my breath coming faster.They were taking me God knows where.Igor was furious at Rose’s disappearance, and he wanted to ensure I wasn’t next.I felt so helpless then.But I was rescued—by Dave.

Dave.

A memory sneaks into my mind like a whisper, the way Dave defended me.He’s saved me like the knight in shining armor he doesn’t admit he is.

Dave.

His men must have brought me here.The last thing I remember is Dave pulling me out of Igor’s clutches and sending me away with his men.They drugged me and brought me here.But where ishere?This room feels… familiar, yet at the same time, unsettling.It reminds me of Dave’s childhood home, though I’m positive it’s not.I believe he mentioned a safe house…

Panic slams into me like a derailed freight train.

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