Page 170 of Seeking Vengeance

I ignore her, unsure if her intent is to intimidate or warn, and close the door behind me to stride ahead. She shouts for me to stop, the muted calls trapped behind closed windows and smothered by heavy traffic, but her suffering punishes me all the same.

I’m sure I’ve got nothing to worry about, though.

Cole is smart enough to pause his trigger finger when his sister is still trapped in my car. I’m banking my fucking life on it as I continue forward, the two men seated in the car before me glowering, the driver lacking subtlety when he casually rests his gun on top of the steering wheel.

I stop a few yards from the hood, watching them talk, the conversation seeming relaxed as fuck.

I’d do the same—fake self-assurance in the face of my enemy. But from what I’ve learned about the infamous Cole Torian, we’re different in almost every other aspect.

To me, death is a transaction—clinical and cold.

He sees it as a game—thrilling and ego-boosting.

I have confidence he won’t shoot me before he has the chance to taunt me first.

He climbs from the passenger seat and strolls casually toward me, his equally well-known enforcer stepping out from the driver’s side to remain behind the open door, his weapon coming to rest on the roof.

Cole doesn’t speak as he approaches, his dark grey suit wrinkle-free, the slightly imperious set of his brows confirming he’ll at least toy with me before I’m dead.

“I’m unarmed.” I raise my hands at my sides before letting them fall.

“That’s a mistake.” He grins, the flash of teeth cocky. “You’ve got my sister.”

“I do. She’s safe and unharmed.”

“But still being held against her will, otherwise she would’ve run to me by now.”

I don’t deny the obvious. There’s no point.

“Let her go,” he drawls. “And I’ll let you live… for now.”

I should scoff. Or at least mimic his arrogance, only this isn’t about ego.

It’s abouther.

Layla.

Nothing more, nothing less.

“I can’t do that. She doesn’t want to return to Portland.”

He raises a sardonic brow. “You can hear her yelling, right?”

“I can.” And it fucking kills me. “But are those shouts for her freedom or my life?”

He pauses, contemplating me for long moments.

“She’s been happy with me for weeks,” I add. “Shelovesme—just ask Keira.”

“Proof of her love wouldn’t mean shit. You’re not the first scam she’s fallen for.” He steps closer, losing the mask of delight. Now he glares. Hard eyes. Curled upper lip. “You’re her MO. This is what she does—falls prey to predators. She’s the walking, talking definition of gullibility.”

My hackles rise. “And that right there is why I can’t let her leave with you. She’s told me all about her position in the family. How you make her feel worthless.”

“Heractionsmake her feel worthless. She’s her harshest critic.”

“Are you sure about that?”

He scoffs a silent laugh. “That’s some set of balls you’ve got, Costa.”

---