Page 164 of King of Envy

I kissed her hello. She returned it with noticeable hesitation.

“Everything okay?” I asked with a frown.

“Yes. No.” Ayana’s fingers strangled her bag strap.

I waited, a cold sensation creeping into my gut. This wasn’t like her. Even when she was upset, she was never this aloof.

“After we said goodbye on Friday, I went into my apartment and…” She took a deep breath. “Someone broke in while I was out. They left something for me.”

My reaction was so visceral, my head snapped up before her words fully registered. Blood rushed to my ears, and a sudden snarl of pure, icy panic exploded in my chest.

“Are you hurt? What did they leave you? Why didn’t you call me?” I fired the questions one after another, like bullets from a loaded gun.

Fuck the Singapore meeting. I should’ve gone in with her and made sure everything was okay before I left. Shepherd might be dead, but the other faction was still out there.

It was a rare oversight on my part. I should’ve known better. Hell, I should’ve gone with my initial instinct and kept a twenty-four-hour guard at her building even after Shepherd died. Ayana would’ve hated it, and my team was already overworked, but it would’ve been worth it.

Now, someone had broken into her apartment, and I hadn’t been there.

Regret serrated my stomach.

“I’m fine,” Ayana reassured me. “Don’t freak out. They were already gone when I got home, and they didn’t take anything. I also filed a police report and changed my locks. Someone is coming later this week to upgrade my security system.”

“My team will do it today,” I said. “This can’t wait, and their upgrades will be better than anything on the market.”

“No. I already have it all set.” Ayana wore a strange expression. I was about to argue when she added, “The person who broke in left me this.”

My regret flattened into dread. I watched, stomach twisting, as she retrieved a manila envelope from her bag and passed it to me. There was a slight shake in her hand.

I hesitated for a second before I took the envelope.

Opened it.

Retrieved the contents.

And felt every ounce of blood drain from my face.

My breath knotted in my throat. The shock of seeing those particular images crystallized into jagged little ice chips that stabbed deeper and deeper the longer I stared.

There were three photos in total, detailing what I’d done to Dexter in graphic, gruesome detail. My team had dumped his remains near a known Brotherhood hub as a warning. If taking Dexter had tipped my hand to Shepherd, I might as well have gone all out—there’d been no point trying to hide what I’d done.

The pictures were taken where we’d left him, which meant someone from the organization had been inside Ayana’s house. There was no one else who would’ve had the means or motive.

My blood thundered in my ears. I dragged my eyes from the close up image of Dexter’s mangled face to the note clipped on top.

It’s time you found out exactly the type of man Vuk Markovic really is.

A sickening taste filled my mouth. Time slowed into an excruciating pace. Each second scrounged forth a different memory.

Jordan getting shot. My first night with Ayana. Sean’s call telling me he’d found Dexter. The warehouse. Roman’s taunt about Ayana leaving me if she ever found out what I was truly capable of.

That’d been just over a week ago. I couldn’t think of another reason why someone would leave Ayana these photos besides wanting to break us up, and the timing was a little too convenient.

The images crumpled in my fist. If that weaselly bastard Roman had anything to do with this, I was going to gut him like a fish.

But first, I had to deal with the present.

When I finally looked up again, Ayana was staring at me with that same strange expression, like she was torn between painful hope and possibly throwing up.

---