Page 33 of His Fury

“Eight twenty-five.”

“Because you never paid back the seventy-five?” I guessed. He nodded, and I knew I was going to hit him. “So, you never paid back Mercutio?”

“He went missing.”

“Dead. He went dead,” I corrected him. “But his boss isn’t.” Julian looked close to tears. “I’ll handle it.”

His shoulders sagged with relief. “Zayn, I don’t know what to?—”

My fist cracked against his jaw, snapping his head back—but he stayed on his feet.

“I don’t care what you know or don’t know,” I said, my voice like steel. “You’re not worth this. Don’t think for one minute that I’m doing this for you.”

He flinched.

I stepped closer. “I’m doing this because they came for Isla. Because ofyou. Because of what you’ve told them. I have to clean this up, or she’ll never be free of this.” I let the mask of control drop, and he saw the depths of my fury. “Youdid this. You opened your mouth and gave them information. How many fucking times have I told you to say nothing? Pretend you don’t know me? You think I was being coy?” I glared at him. “Do you think I was protecting your social reputation? Was I making sure your stuck-up colleagues remained oblivious to your connections to me? The money behind your fucking company? Yoursilentpartner? No.” I leaned closer, crowding him, letting him see how very close I was to losing control. “I was protectingyoufrom the very fucking people you sold me out to. SoldIslaout to.” I never blinked as I looked into his eyes which were wide with panic. “Say one moresnivelingword and I will lose my shit completely and even knowing Isla will hate me for it, I won’t regret a single thing."

I walked away from him, picked up my phone, and got ready to call Rye. I wanted to make sure she was okay.

I didn’t look at Julian as I prepared to hit the call button. “Get out.”

He didn’t argue because what was he going to say? He’d fucked up. He had just learned the most brutal truth of all. Being associated with me didn’t make you safe.

It just made it harder to decide whether to save you or let you burn, and Julian Turner could burn.

CHAPTER 9

ISLA

The drive had been mostlyquiet. Rye wasn’t a talker—at least, not when I needed him to be. And today? He must have sensed I was seconds away from breaking down again.

I’d been sitting in the back, staring out the window, of his SUV with its dark tinted windows and dark leather seats and hadn’t been paying attention to the outside at all. So, when the car slowed, awareness kicked in. He drove us through tall iron gates that whispered wealth and privacy, winding up a perfectly manicured driveway that looked like something out of a magazine.

The house was set back from the road, modern and minimalist, all glass, black steel, and sharp angles—exactly like Zayn.

The way the lines cut through the afternoon sun and the sharp silhouettes of the design, I recognized Julian’s design. Was that what they said? Only three of them knew it was here?

I peered out of the car, pressing too close to the glass in my curiosity to see more.

Rye pulled the car to a stop, and with no preamble, he gotout, and by the time I had the sense to follow, he was already at my side of the car, opening the door for me. Stepping out, I looked around.

It was too quiet. Too perfect. And I knew, somehow, it was exactly what I needed. Rye didn’t say anything as I looked around, but he glanced at me with an expression I couldn’t read. Pity? Concern? Resignation?

All three?

“I won’t break if you talk to me.” I hovered uncertainly at the car.

“Break all you want.” He started to walk past me to the front door. “No one here to hear you.”

There was one low step to the entrance of two solid-looking black wooden doors. “Wait a sec,” Rye said as he approached the door. “Let me go in first, make sure everything’s good.”

My brows drew together. “Why? You think someone’s hiding behind the door?”

Rye gave a small shrug. “You’d be surprised.”

I would. I thought about it… Would I really? Then I remembered that only three people knew about the house, so who was hiding? I loitered in the driveway for one more moment, and then I followed him into the house.

The moment I stepped inside, it hit me.