Page 24 of The Devil's Wrath

I observed them navigating the ballroom, pausing to chat and bid farewell to various guests, including my father.

The perfect power couple.

However, as they approached the exit, a sense of unease gripped me. The information about Petrov’s planned hit weighed heavily on my mind, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to go disastrously wrong.

Finishing my champagne in one gulp, I placed the empty glass on a waiter’s tray and headed toward my father, who was with Asher, Cassian, and a few others. “Dad, can I speak with you for a moment?” I asked quietly, pulling him aside.

He looked at my serious expression with a frown. “What’s going on, son?”

“I’m worried about the Morgans. With the intel on Petrov, I have a bad feeling. Maybe we should offer them an escort home tonight, just to be cautious.”

My father paused, then shook his head. “Thomas has his security team. He wouldn’t want us to make a scene. You know how proud he is.”

But, Dad, if something happens to them . . .” I insisted, feeling more and more uneasy.

He placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Nothing will happen, Theo. Thomas has been in this game for a long time. We all have.” His eyes softened slightly. “But I appreciate your concern. It shows you’re thinking like a true member of The Brotherhood, always looking out for our own.”

I nodded, though I still had my doubts. “I understand. I hope you’re right.”

EIGHT

THEO

Archer, Kai, and I had been thicker than thieves since we’d been young boys. We’d bled together, sweated together, ended up in mischief together, and if it called for it, we would have died for each other. So when I’d approached Archer and Kai on the night of the masquerade, I’d known they’d be up for a winter night’s ride, especially if it had the potential to end in the death of our enemies. So we’d followed the Morgans, but we’d been too late. By the time we’d found them, their car had already been upside down.

I closed my eyes, remembering the heat of the flames licking at my skin, the twisted metal, and the acrid smell of burning flesh. And in the midst of it all, a girl with gray eyes, trapped in the wreckage, barely conscious as I’d pulled her out and cradled her in my arms. Her face had been covered with blood and soot, only her scared eyes shining through all the devastation. I’d carried her to safety as Archer had called for help. She’d been so young, only twenty years old, so fragile. I remembered the way she’d clung to me, her tears soaking through my shirt as she’d sobbed for her parents. We had waited with her and her brother until the ambulance had arrived, then slipped away into the shadows. The only reason Gage and Wrenly were still alive was because the Russians didn’t believe in punishing the children for the sins of their fathers. The only redeeming quality they had.

I now knew what had happened to the girl I’d saved that night.Wrenly Morganwas the lost heiress of a billion-dollar empire and the daughter of Thomas Morgan, late Brotherhood leader. She was The Brotherhood’s skeleton in the closet, and she had no clue that she had been a part of my world all along.

She had no memory of me. And for now, I’d keep it that way.

By the time she finally stirred awake, it was late in the evening. She reached for her phone and started typing away on the keyboard.

Then, her phone rang, and she cleared her throat before answering. “Hey, Jake . . . I’m just lying in bed. What are you doing? . . . Yeah, I’d love to come . . . Text me the address. I’ll take an Uber and see you at the party . . . Sounds great. I’ll see you in a bit.”

My jaw clenched. I was almost certain “Jake” was the douche I’d seen taking her home the night I’d barged through her door.

I watched her get out of bed and head to the bathroom for a shower. Grabbing my keys, I rushed to her place. Once I parked around the corner, I accessed the camera footage on my phone. She had finished showering, her hair was straightened, and her makeup perfectly applied. She stepped into her closet and picked out a short black dress. My breath hitched as she slipped it on; the lace fabric barely reaching her thighs.

She checked her appearance in the mirror, and the expression of sadness on her face from earlier was now replaced with determination. I knew that look all too well. She was going to that party to forget. She was hurting inside, and this was just a temporary distraction.

Wrenly stepped outside, locking her front door behind her. She walked down the driveway toward the waiting Uber, her Louboutin heels clicking loudly on the pavement. As she climbed into the backseat, I started my motorcycle and waited until the Uber pulled away before following at a discreet distance. The thought of her in that revealing dress, surrounded by drunk college guys with wandering hands, made my blood boil. Despite the fact that she had no memory of me, I knew deep down that we were connected and that the night of the accident had bound us together in a way that couldn’t be undone.

When the Uber stopped in front of a sprawling mansion in the wealthy suburbs, I parked a block away and watched as she stepped out. The short hem of her dress rode up her thighs, and she tugged it down self-consciously before heading toward the front door, where music and laughter spilled out into the night.

I waited a few minutes before following behind her, blending into the crowd of partiers. The mansion was packed, and the air was thick with the smell of alcohol and weed. I scanned the crowd and found her by the bar, downing a shot of tequila as Jake stood beside her, his hand resting possessively on the small of her back. Anger flared within me at the sight. I would cut his hands off for touching her. He leaned in close, whispering something in her ear that made her laugh. But I could see the tightness around her eyes and the way her smile didn’t quite reach them.

As the night wore on, she continued to drink, and I noticed her slurring her words and stumbling as she walked. Jake encouraged her, plying her with more drinks, which she gladly accepted. He pulled her onto the dance floor, his hands roaming over her body.

She didn’t push him away.

She let him paw at her, grabbing her ass and her perfect round tits. I wanted to murder that little fuck. Make him choke on his blood while I pummeled his face in. Feel his bones break under my fists. He whispered in her ear, and she nodded, a dazed look on her face as he took her hand and led her toward the stairs. I followed close behind, my body shaking with rage. They disappeared into a bedroom, the door closing behind them.

My vision went red as I stalked down the hallway behind them, weaving in and out of couples groping and making out.

I could have walked away, and I probably should have.

A better man would have.

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