Page 4 of Destruction

“To get your fiancé back? Yes.”

“I’m glad you know me so well. Now, which one of them should I call? Since I’m acting Head, do I call Cristian, or do I act as a Second still and call Tennant?”

“Shit. Uh, how about a third option, in case you come off sounding a little…accusatory?”

“Well, throw out a fucking name. God knows they’ve got plenty of them over there.”

Tsking, Benjamin shakes his head. “I won’t tell you to calm down, but you need to get yourself under control. And for fuck’ssake, we’re both large Families. Let’s not insult someone we have a truce with.”

“Shit. Fine. You’re right. So, who do you suggest?” I slump down, wanting this to be over already. My skin itches to do something—anything. To let this tension have an outlet. And that’s not fucking politics.

“To point out the obvious, call Roman. Not only is he Cristian’s heir, but you’re both, to my immense sadness, friends. Which, really, you can do better. After all, you have me.”

I manage a watery chuckle at that, knowing Benjamin is just fucking around to lighten things up. Meeting his gaze, he gives me a nod of encouragement and I reach for the phone again, dialing the number from memory, as I make sure the recorder is on once again…

“You sure Hollis didn’t say anything about why we needed to come home?”

Benji sighs, long and exasperated. “If you ask one more time, I’m going to make you walk home.”

“You won’t, because then you’ll have to walkwithme,” I say with a smirk.

Jude nudges my foot with his, drawing my attention to him. “Stop harassing him, Tesoro Mio; he’s just doing his job.”

Sighing, I sit back and cross my arms, knowing my lover is right, but the whole situation is just…odd. There was an urgency after Benji took Hollis’s call, but without more information, it’s hard to know what we’re walking in to.

I don’t like being in the dark like this, not when there’s an unexplainable thrum to the air. After all the shit that’s happened in the past, my nerves are shot, and the need to have thingslaid out in front of me, so I can prepare for whatever’s to come, makes me antsy.

Jude must sense this as he changes seats when the car stops for a light, pulling me close to him and pressing a kiss to my hair. “You’re going to give yourself an ulcer,” he says quietly.

“I’m fine,” I reply, just loud enough to be heard.

He snorts but lets me get away with it, for now.

Jude holds me the rest of the way to the main house, and though his touch is comforting, it only does so much to calm the sense of doom in me as I prepare for whatever news my father and Tennant are about to dish out.

Inside the house, the silence is deafening and the tension in the air is thick. In the middle of the day, it shouldn’t be like this, not with the amount of staff employed to keep the main house running.

The house guards are on high alert, and worry forms in the pit of my stomach. Jude reaches for my hand, but I brush him off, giving an apologetic look that he waves off as he begins to straighten out his clothes.

Taking his cue, I tug at my sleeves and smooth my hands down my shirt—my suit jacket met an unfortunate end during our training today—and lead the way to my father’s office. After a courtesy knock on the door, I walk in with Jude on my heels.

If I thought the tension in the house was thick, it’s nothing compared to the stifling aura of the office. Carter is leaning against the front of the desk, with his arms crossed over his chest and his face downturned to the floor. Given how hush hush everything has been since Hollis’s phone call, I expected it to be all hands on deck for this meeting, but even my father is absent from the room, and that, more than anything, makes my suspicions grow.

“What the hell is going on?”

Carter looks up, and the grief in his dark blue eyes is staggering. “I’m sorry, Figlio Mio…but your dad?—”

“No,” I interrupt. “Whatever the fuck you’re about to say, just no. It’s not true.”

Carter shakes his head and pushes off the desk, taking a step forward, but I counter and take one back. He stops and stares at me with eyes full of emotions that I don’t want to see or believe.

“He’s gone, Roman. Someone took him.” His voice wavers for a second before the pain and grief in his features changes, hardens, and the promise of retribution bleeds into his navy eyes. “Someone is playing games, trying to take what is ours. Trying to weaken us by taking him, but they don’t know who they’re messing with.”

“No,” I whisper, not wanting to believe a single word.

“Tennant is out there now, surveying the scene, and Hollis and Leandro are already at work. But Roman…”

“No!” I shout. “I… He can’t…Ican’t…”

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