Page 79 of Knot Your Romeo

“She’s not your daughter, Blake. I’ve called the police.”

“Where is Emmie? Where is she?” he yells. The silence that follows is deafening.

Then Rita’s voice, smaller now. “She’s at school. She won’t be back until this evening.”

He glances at his watch. “Then we’ll wait.”

I try to push myself up, to get between Blake and Rita, but one of his men—the one who looks like he eats nails for breakfast—plants a boot in my ribs.

Argh!Air rushes out of my lungs in a painful whoosh.

“Stay down,” he growls. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“Everything on this estate concerns me,” I wheeze, struggling to my feet despite the pain. “And if you think I’m going to let you take her—“

The punch catches me across the jaw before I can finish my sentence, snapping my head sideways. I swallow the metallic taste, but I don’t care about the warm blood filling my mouth. I’m her Alpha. Emmie is my pack mate, and I’d rather die than let these bastards touch her.

I charge the nearest thug, catching him around the waist and driving him backward into the cottage wall. We go down in atangle of limbs, and I manage to land a few solid hits before his partner joins the fray.

The fight is brutal and brief. Two against one, and they’re clearly professionals. Within minutes, I’m on the ground again, zip-tied and bleeding from a dozen slight cuts. But I’ve bought time, and hopefully someone has heard the commotion.

“Spirited,” Blake observes, straightening his tie as if the violence was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. “I can see why she likes you. Emmie always had a weakness for broken things.”

He knows? The casual cruelty in his voice makes my vision blur with rage. “You know nothing about her.”

“I know everything about her. I raised her from the time she was fourteen. Fed her, clothed her, protected her.” His smile turns predatory. “And when I found out how special she was, I took my time and shaped her into exactly what I needed her to be.”

“You abused her.”

“I never touched her. But I prepared her for her purpose in life. The fact that she ran away before fulfilling that purpose is inconvenient, but hardly insurmountable.” Blake checks his expensive watch again. “School gets out at three-thirty, I believe? We should have her back within the hour.”

That’s when I hear it—the rumble of a car engine coming up the drive. My heart lurches as I recognize the sound of Beck’s sports car. He’s supposed to be in meetings until five, but one of the staff must have called him—

“Perfect timing,” Blake says with genuine glee. “I was hoping to meet the famous Beck Silver.”

The car pulls up near the helicopter, and Beck emerges, looking every inch the powerful Alpha he is. His dark suit is perfectly tailored, his hair immaculate despite the wind from the rotors. There’s a deep tension in his shoulders, the way his eyesimmediately catalog the scene—the helicopter, the strange men, me on the ground bleeding.

His gaze finds mine across the distance, and I see the exact moment he understands what’s happening. His expression goes absolutely cold, the kind of winter freeze that kills everything it touches.

“Gentlemen,” he says, his voice carrying easily over the noise. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”

Blake steps forward with the confidence of a man who’s used to getting what he wants. “Yet I know exactly who you are. Beckett Silver. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“I wish I could say the same.” Beck’s tone is polite, but there’s steel underneath. “However, I don’t recall inviting you to my property.”

“I’m just here to collect what’s mine and be on my way. No need for unpleasantness.”

“What’s yours?” Beck’s eyebrows rise slightly. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“My stepdaughter. Emmeline Darling. According to my sources, she’s been hiding here for weeks under a false name, and I’ve come to take her home.”

The silence that follows is loaded with violence. Beck processes this information, and I can practically see when he shifts from confused host to lethal protector.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” Beck says finally.

“Oh, but it will.” Blake signals to his men, and suddenly there are guns visible and pointing at my brother. “You see, Mr. Silver, I have legal guardianship papers. Emmie is mentally unstable, prone to delusions and self-harm. She needs specialized care that only I can provide.”

“Bullshit,” I spit from the ground. Blake glances at me with amusement.

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