Gray arched a brow, catching on immediately. I might have made a few pointed comments over the last week that gave him an idea what I thought of my former best friend.
Rhett just slouched his way up the path, his shoulders hunched and his hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat. Gray wrapped an arm around Billie, tucking her small body against his broad frame, and a pang of regret snapped inside my chest.
She’d always have a piece of my heart, but I’d accepted a long time ago that we didn’t work together. There was too much history… and pain. For now, I’d be content to just see her happy with her new future, free of my messy family politics.
“Where is everyone?” Billie asked as we entered the main foyer. There were a few decorated Christmas trees scattered around, along with an enormous contemporary, bronze sculpture suspended over the space, seemingly hanging in thin air. Creepy. Her voice echoed, and it filled me with unease. “Is it usually this quiet in here?”
Rhett glanced around and shrugged. “Everyone is on vacation already. Even the wankers who release Christmas albums have had them out for weeks already, so this place is probably only open for our meeting with Fucker.”
It made sense, but I couldn’t convince my instincts to calm down.
Gray exchanged a knowing look with me, then smoothly transferred Billie into Rhett’s care without her even sensing anything was wrong. “You two go on; they’re probably in the conference room,” he told Rhett. “I’m going to hit the restroom.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Rhett drawled, and I briefly wondered if he’d been drinking in the car. His drug dependency was a concern, for sure. But he protectively wrapped an arm around Billie and continued past the vacant reception desk.
We waited until they’d rounded the corner, then without a word, Grayson and I both pulled our weapons.
“I’ll take the ground floor,” I murmured. “You check the upper level.”
He jerked a nod, already moving toward the stairs on silent feet. Impressive, considering his size, the dress shoes he wore, and the marble floors.
Systematically, I checked room by room through the entire ground floor, trusting Grayson was doing the same on the upper level. When I returned to the foyer—bypassing the conference room where Billie, Rhett, and Jace were making uncomfortable conversation with a handful of corporate lawyers—Grayson was on his way back down the stairs.
“Anything?” I asked, already knowing his answer.
“Nothing,” he confirmed. “Maybe we’re just paranoid.”
I frowned, glancing back out to where the cars were waiting. “Maybe.”
Satisfied—for now—that there was no ambush waiting within the building, I followed Grayson to the conference room.
“Where’s Tucker?” Gray asked, scowling around the room.
“Great question,” Jace replied, his lip curling in a sneer. “We were just asking the same thing. He’s the one who called this fucking meeting while we’re supposed to be at Flo’s wake. Is this all just a bullshit game to make us look like we don’t care enough to attend her farewell?”
One of the corporate lawyers sighed, checking his watch. “If we knew…”
“Yeah, yeah, save it,” Jace snapped back. “Five more minutes, then we’re out of here. Understood?”
Grayson reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his phone, answering a call that must have vibrated since I hadn’t heard anything ring.
“What’s happened?” he asked, his tone sharp. He locked eyes with me, then he jerked his head toward the hallway. Without question, I stepped outside after him as he spoke again. “Slow down. How? She couldn’t have—”
“Morgana?” I asked, and he nodded. I held out my hand. “Give it to me.” With a brief frown, he handed the phone over. “Is Vee okay?”
“I don’t know, Angelo,” Morgana snapped back with scathing-level sarcasm. “That’s why I called Grayson. She woke up earlier and was rambling nonsense, asking where you all were. I gave her a sedative because she was going to hurt herself and put her back to bed. Now I’ve checked, and she’s gone. Bed empty, nowhere to be seen. She’s on so many drugs right now she could be in danger or—”
“Is my car still there?” I cut her off. Vee was drugged, but not dead. She could hotwire a car. “In the garage, is it there?”
Morgana paused, and her footsteps sounded through the phone. “No. No, it’s gone; the garage door is open.”
That was all I needed to hear. Tossing the phone back to Grayson, I pulled out my own and brought up the tracking app attached to all my favorite cars. Right at that moment, my Charger was—
“Here?” I said aloud, reading the map in confusion as I strode toward the front entrance. “What the fuck?”
Two seconds later, my battered, bruised, and delirious wife staggered through the glass doors screaming my name.
“Angelo!” she cried out as I ran to catch her before she fell. “You have to get them out. Everyone needs to get out! They want you dead; they all want you dead!” She was rambling, panicked and unfocused as I picked her up, then her eyes rolled into her head, and she sagged with unconsciousness.
“Bad reaction to the drugs, maybe?” Grayson suggested, frowning hard at my beautiful, broken wife. “I didn’t find anything suspicious on my sweep.”
“Me neither,” I agreed. Holding Vee close, I looked around the foyer. She needed to rest. Ideally, I needed to take her back to Grayson’s house, but I was reluctant to leave Billie.
Gray held out his arms. “I’ll take her out to the car,” he offered. “Maybe just grab Billie to come back with us. Vee would like it if she was there when she woke, I think.”
Good excuse. Yes. That.
I gratefully handed my wife over, knowing that he would take care of her, then kissed Valentina’s head. “It’ll be okay, amore mio; we’ll take you home.”
She moaned and mumbled something about Tom, and I sighed as I made my way back toward the conference room. How did Vee know we were waiting for Tom? Just before I got there, though, my wandering gaze snagged on a sign attached to a door.
B1 Fire Access.
Then Valentina’s mumble clicked in my brain. She’d said bomb, not Tom. A cold thread of panic wove through me as I yanked the door open and hurried down the stairs with my gun drawn.
The basement was dark and silent, though. I found the light switch, flicking it on and waiting a moment while the space filled with light. Then I systematically made my way through a basement level full of janitor’s closets, electrical supplies, spare furniture, all kinds of crap.
Then I found it.
Tucked in behind the fire extinguisher—like someone with a sick sense of humor had set it—a heavily wired plastic explosive with a rapidly declining digital display.
Adrenaline and fear filled me so fast I nearly choked on it as I ran full speed back to the stairwell. “Get out!” I bellowed even before I got to the top of the stairs. “Everyone get the fuck out!”
My shouting drew a quick enough response that Jace, Rhett, and Billie were already out of the conference room when I burst through the stairwell door. I dove at my Bella, sweeping her up as I screamed for Jace and Rhett to run!