Page 49 of Claimed By Daddy

“Didn’t see anyone else. But that doesn’t mean he’s alone.”

The man shifts in the chair, testing the restraints. He eyes us both—me standing over him and Jagger circling like a wolf about to pounce.

“I know you’ve been watching us,” I inform him. “Just know that this will go a whole lot easier for you if you explain why you’ve been spending so much time outside our building. And exactly what it is you’re planning.”

Nothing from him—not even a twitch.

Jagger throws a punch, and blood spews from the man’s mouth. Without hesitation, a second lands just beneath his eye. He grumbles something in Armenian and Jagger chuckles. “Armenian. That narrows things.”

Not holding anything back, Jagger plunges a fist into the man’s gut—forcing every bit of air from his lungs. He chokes and sucks in desperately as another fist rattles his jaw, but still… nothing.

Jagger leans on his workbench, arms crossed, waiting impatiently to swing at him. I crouch in front of him, meeting his stare and holding it. “We know you’re not working alone. So, here’s your shot. You talk now, maybe you’ll walk out of here.”

The man’s breath wheezes between split lips, a rattling sound that’s half pain, half spite. Blood mats the edges of his beard,and one eye is already swelling shut. He spits, blood splattering onto the floor, and licks the remnants from his lip as a Cheshire Cat smile spreads across his face.

“You’re already too late,” he grumbles with condescension, his eyes flicking between me and the clock on the wall.

Confused, I tilt my head as my brows furrow. “Too late for what?”

He gives a faint, humorless laugh. “We aren’t playing the same game. You’ve fallen moves behind,” he rambles smugly. “We’re not waiting outside anymore.”

Jagger’s face tightens as he steps closer. “You saying you’ve got people inside?”

He nods once. “Inside your lives. Your routines. Your secrets. You think you’ve got control?” he scoffs, his accent growing deeper. “We’ve been watching. Listening. Waiting.”

His words cause my stomach to knot. “What do you mean, you’ve been watching?” I ask. “And listening?”

“Your little messages to your princess?” he sneers, a sick grin curling one side of his busted mouth. “Every word. Every time stamp. We read them before she did. We know everything. You thought you were protecting her. But the Monte Melkonian Cyber Army”—he laughs, then winces—“they’re smarter than you.”

Eavan.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and the cold shiver that follows slices through my thoughts.

“How long?” I grit, barely able to push the words past my clenched jaw. He doesn’t answer right away, but the shit-eating look of victory on his face is more than enough to help me piece it together.

The glitching phone.

“Long enough. We cloned your phone a couple of weeks ago when you met with Narek.” I should’ve noticed, and his tone only drives the fact home.One of us should’ve noticed.I step back and drag my hands down my face, my thoughts already spiraling.What do they know?

“My vision is a little blurry,” he informs before suddenly asking, “What time is it?”

“What the fuck does it matter what time it is?” I bark.

Jagger, silent until now, glances at the clock hanging on the wall behind us and hesitantly answers his question. “Three seventeen.”

The man scoffs arrogantly, like he knows something we don’t. “You’re already too late.”

Eavan…

ABOUT TEN MINUTES EARLIER

My phone buzzes on the bathroom vanity as I’m getting ready for my dinner date with Enzo—and Gunnar and Damon. I finish sweeping on my mascara, then read the message.

ENZO

I’m waiting for you in the lobby, princess.

A small smile ticks at the corner of my lips as I read his message. I can almost hear the way he calls me, ‘princess.’ After slipping my phone into my pocket, I head downstairs and sit on the bottom step to throw on my Converse.

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