Page 16 of Knot your Princess
Hesitating to tell her anything, I’ve been slightly shoved onto the back foot by her attitude. I expected a simpering wallflower, scared and clinging to me. Not a fierce omega holding a gun to my face. It kind of throws a guy, especially when it’s so fucking sexy, I want to bend her over the desk, lift her dress and sink into her hot pussy so she can cover my dick in slick.
“Answer me, or I’ll blow your kneecaps off.”
The threat is so empty, it’s laughable. Or is it? I decide to test that theory. “Oh, like father, like daughter. Interesting. And here I thought you were just a caged bird not allowed to spread her wings. Is that just a ruse?” My thoughtful expression stuns her for a moment. She has absolutely no idea what I’m talking about.
This is becoming even more curious as the minutes tick by. Minutes that I’m wasting when I should be trying to butter her up to slip into her life as a suitable alpha for mating with. Instead, she is pissed off and about to shoot my knees off. This is not going well.
She grimaces. “I’m getting a bit sick of everyone comparing me to a bird, and what the fuck are you talking about?”
Deciding that I need to move this along a bit in my direction, not hers, I answer her semi-truthfully. “My name is Atlas. Atlas Philips.” It’s not that crazy that she thought I was Cain, Quinn’s pack enforcer. I’ve seen the shots of him from the covert surveillance images and we look enough alike that it’s a mistake easily made if you didn’t know any better. I figured she did. I’ve been trying to avoid thinking about it, ever since I first clapped eyes on him. But having pieced together that we are estranged twins, adopted into different families, hasn’t really been something I’ve wanted to talk about or even think about. The rest of the IPP hasn’t seen them. As far as they know, Cain Harris is a ghost. He never shows his face, always being behind a mask whenever there is criminal activity involving the Quinn pack. He lives completely off the grid. It’s perturbing. But the longer I can keep our connection a secret from the IPP, the better.
Blinking, she takes that in. “What do you want with me and this gallery?”
“I want what is in there for a start,” I say, pointing under the desk where my contact has left me that gun and an envelope. Seeing as I’m out one weapon, I want my envelope.
With a scoff, she bends to retrieve it, snatching and ripping the tape. “Not happening. This is coming with me.”
Glaring at her audacity to rob me of what’s mine, I snort. “You’re a thief now?”
“Who says it’s yours?”
“Me.”
We stare at each for a few weighted seconds.
She jumps when the door bursts open, and Nico strides in.
He takes in the scene in front of him, and with a growl with a split-second judgment where he realises I’m not Cain, he sends his fist flying at my head, flooring me before he lunges toward Sophia and grabs her wrist as I groan at the agony in my face.
ChapterFourteen
Sugar
“What is going on, Nico?” I scream, my fingers twitching with rage as I desperately try to keep my gun from shaking in my hands.
"That isn't Cain," Nico growls, his voice ringing with protective determination. I can feel him standing behind me like a wall of solid steel. It's eerily quiet out there. Did the police even arrive?
My mind races and my heart thuds loudly against my chest in anticipation. "Obviously," I reply through clenched teeth, slipping the gun back into its envelope before shoving it under my arm and storming off in the opposite direction. My temper is reaching boiling point now, and spinning around to face Nico once more I yell, "Nico! What is going on?"
"I need to get you out of here - away from Atlas," he explains, his gaze impenetrable. "He is dangerous and will stop at nothing to destroy you and your family."
"Why? Who is he? Where is Cain?" My questions come out sharp and demanding; I'm close to erupting with anger if I have to ask this again.
"He's an enemy that must be avoided at all costs.” He pauses significantly, almost darkly. “We need to move.”
He drags me out of the corridor, a gust of stale air slipping through the door as it slams shut. I know what he is doing; desperate to get me away from the building and away from this mess, but my feet feel glued to the ground. The alley ahead looks dingy, filled with overflowing rubbish skips that contain God knows what. A homeless man peers into one, his face hidden beneath a hoodie pulled tightly over his head in an effort for warmth.
I reluctantly follow Nico, my high heels catching on every stone until I stumble, almost falling onto the sharp pebbles covering the floor. My dress drags through something sticky, and I shiver at the thought of what it could be, clinging tightly to him in fear.
We make our way down a small back street that’s seen better days, only stopping when we reach a white van parked near the curb. I hesitate before getting in, feeling trapped when Nico pulls down the child lock on the door, not allowing it to open again.
“Nico!” I bang my hand on the window, hurting myself and wondering now if I’ve trusted the wrong man.
Nico leaps into the driver's seat and fires up the engine.
“Where are Franco and Luca?”
Silence.
