Page 209 of Indulge
“Declan, we have a problem.”
“What?” I hear the urgency in his voice.
“Lyla. She’s part of The Preacher’s organization.”
“Fuck,” he hisses.
I pull up the rota for today. She’s not due in.
“Where are the twins, Dec?” I ask.
“They were in Inferno for some games with Bella or something. I’ll have to check with Con.”
A cold knot settles in my chest. This feels wrong on every level.
“We need to get Enzo in on this. Call him. I’ll find Reggie and Rowan. I don’t trust this, Declan. Tell Charlotte what’s going on—we need her clued up just in case.”
Charlotte is an asset, trained harder than most, and now she’s a mother. Cross her and you bleed to death.
“Will do. Con says the twins are at Father Byrne’s church.”
I nod, already slipping into the feeds, hacking into the church security. My fingers move faster than my brain. It’s what I do.
I tap into the monitors and freeze.
“Declan…”
“We’ve got a serious fucking problem. Lock down Decadence. Now!”
103
BELLA
Song- Sacrifice Me, Unprocessed
My brothers trained me for this. Still, training and having a lunatic point a gun at your head are two different things.
Adrenaline is a living animal in my chest. I can feel everything wind up and ready to snap.
I’ll be having serious words with the boys when we’re home, because they should have told me about this. I would have helped them fix it. I could’ve seen through her bullshit. We don’t leave business like this to surprise.
She wants my men, and she’s not having them. I won’t be bullied by her. No one fucking pushes a King into a corner. No one takes what’s mine.
“You realize no baby means I can kill you now, right?” I say, taking a darker turn.
Lyla’s eyes go wide. She’s finally met a real steel in my voice. I’m really not fucking around.
“You aren’t going to hurt me. You aren’t going to hurt anyone, Lyla. Just put the gun down and walk away. You’re done here,” I tell her sternly.
She shakes her head, looking between the twins.
“I-I can’t. My mission. They’ll kill me if I don’t do this.”
My head snaps to her. The word mission lands like a stone in the water, and the ripples are ugly.
“Who?”
“My bosses.”
