Page 87 of Monsters Wear Crowns
“Backup’s on the way,” he said through gritted teeth. “Stay–”
The third car hit us from behind. Hard. The force wrenched my body forward, and the seatbelt bit into my chest. The car spun out, tires screeching, and when we finally skidded to a stop, the driver’s door was already being ripped open.
“Rafael–” I fumbled for my gun, but the back door flew open before I could reach it.
Rough hands grabbed me, dragging me into the night. I fought hard, twisting and kicking, my elbow connecting with someone’s ribs. One of them cursed, and I broke free for half a second before another hand caught my wrist. A blow landed against my side, and pain exploded through my ribs, stealing my breath.
“Let go of me!” I spat, my voice wild with fury.
But then a voice interrupted us. It was smooth and almost…amused. “Such a wild card, you are.”
My blood ran cold. I knew that voice.
They let me go, shoving me forward, and I stumbled but didn’t fall. My eyes locked on the man stepping out of the shadows.
Moreau.
He smiled like he owned the night. “Put her down,” he said lazily, and his men obeyed without hesitation.
I straightened, my breath ragged, my ribs aching. But I stood tall, my eyes burning with defiance. “You’ve just made a fatal fucking mistake.”
“Oh, I don’t think so.” His smile widened, and it made my skin crawl. “You see, I wanted to have a…conversation. And I thought it might be more productive without Rafe looming over your shoulder.”
“Fine, what do you have to say?” I sighed heavily, bringing a hand to my ribs.
He grinned like a cat, his blonde hair slicked back, highlighting his sharp cheekbones. “If you want this war to end, I am willing to drop everything. You just need to stop protecting Vaughan.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, annoyance flaring. “What did he even do to you?”
His brown eyes flashed momentarily. “A lot, Miss Sinclair.” He paced around me slowly. “If you’re truly curious, I can explain it in another meeting. One where I can explaineverythingthat happened with your mother.”
My stomach clenched at that. “How would I inform youifI were interested in such a meeting?”
Surprised flickered across his face. “Here I was, thinking you’d tell me to go fuck myself.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Well, you can go do that, too,” I corrected. “But I need to know about her.”
“Rafe hasn’t told you yet?” He raised a brow.
I hated that I did it, but I shook my head.
He snorted. “Those Vaughan men, taking and destroying.”
I wanted to rip that smug expression right off his face. But before I could answer, the distant growl of engines sliced through the night. Fast. Furious.
Rafe.
Moreau barely flinched. “Looks like we’re out of time,” he said, his voice almost playful. “I’ll lay low and send a message in five days. Respond with a simple yes or no, and I’ll make the meeting happen. An alliance between us would be beneficial to you in several ways.” He stepped back toward his SUV. “Give Rafe my regards.”
The car peeled away just as Rafe’s vehicles screeched to a halt around me. Doors flew open, and I was suddenly surrounded by Rafe’s men moving in tight formation, their guns raised, their eyes sweeping the space.
But the danger was already gone. Thankfully, Rafael was alright, just beaten a little.
And when Rafe finally reached me, his face was carved from stone. His eyes burned as they searched mine. “Are you okay? What did he say to you?”
I opened my mouth but hesitated. Because for the first time, I wasn’t sure if I could trust him with the answer.
The ride back to the mansion was suffocating. Rafe hadn’t said a word since he pulled me into the car, his hand like iron around my wrist. The silence was broken only by the low, lethal orders he gave into his phone. He was in that cold, efficient space again–the one that made him more weapon than man.
