He finds Derrick sipping from a mug and staring out the window.
“Not gonna tell you where you can stick your dick, but this is going to complicate shit,” Derrick says without turning around.
And just like that, his good mood disperses and reality sinks in.
“Not to mention what’s going to happen to her if your betroth finds out,” his twin brother adds in.
Derrick finally turns around and eyes him now. Words passed between them in silence. Minutes pass by before Derrick gives him a smirk and a soft chuckle.
“No, it’s not too late to pass Isabella on to Chase or Rory,” Derrick says with a laugh. “But come on. You know you couldn’t do that.”
“Fuck,” he hisses in response. “And I really don’t give a shit if Isabella finds out or not but I’ll make sure Ariana isn’t harmed and out of harm's way.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Stella says from behind him.
He turns around to find her leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest and a sweet smile on her face.
“We’ll find a way,” she says more confidently.
“Always the romantic,” he replies.
“Oh, are you admitting there’s romance now?” she teases.
He quirks his brow at her and tries his best to sneer. It never works with Stella. Since the first day she’s stepped into their lives and their kingdom, she hasn’t been afraid of jack shit. She’d probably take on all four Kings if she wanted to. Matter of fact, she has.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions, shall we?” he mumbles to her. Because it’s a huge fucking jump.
Ariana is everything he didn’t need in a woman, not that he’d ever needed any woman. But all of this hasn’t sunken in yet. He needs time to process whatever the hell needs processing.
He looks up and sees Derrick grinning at him from ear to ear.
And just like that, his good mood is back.
Why? Because even with the odds stacked against them, he can always count on his family. Kings stick together through thick and thin.
Always.
Chapter Seventeen
It’s getting harder and harder to leave her alone at the safehouse each time he has to do so. The past two days have been…well, a gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell. And he’s found that that is who he wants to be with her—a gentleman.
He shakes his head to shake free of his daydreaming as he walks through the front door of the mansion, hands in his pockets, whistling without a fucking care in the world. What’s there to care about when his cock can still feel her vise grip on him? His ears still tingle with the sound of his name falling from her lips.
“Boss! Boss!” Mason calls out after him in a panic after he’d just walked past the office.
It snaps him out of his daydreaming quick and he hurriedly returns to the office. He walks in and sees Elias on the phone with his eyebrows nearly touching as he barks out orders to whoever is on the other end.
“What?” he asks Mason.
“Derrick,” Mason replies.
His organs plummet to his feet with the way Mason says his brother’s name.
Derrick and Chase are on that fucked Romano deal with that motorcycle club. The same deal that they’d been against since the beginning. Derrick needed to be on this deal personally to inform the fucking crew in Cristian Romano’s presence that this is the only transaction ever going down. There is no deal and there is no connection. No room for doubt nor negotiations, so head King made the trip himself.
“How bad?” he asks Mason.
“Heinz and his team are prepared to meet wherever. They’re mobile already,” Elias replies instead.
Heinz and his team. Not just Heinz. That means it’s fucking bad.
He looks at the time and takes solace that Stella is probably still asleep at three a.m. He leaves the office and heads right down to Rory’s studio though. Chase’s phone call comes just as he walks into the doorway and Rory looks up at him. He answers the call on speaker as soon as Rory shuts off his music.
“How bad?” he asks Chase.
“Bad. Amazonian jungle bad, Adam. We’re not going to make it back to the estate. We need to stop,” Chase replies out of breath.
“Do it. Make the call. Stop at a hospital if you have to. Just let me know where,” he replies, remaining as calm and collected as possible even though his insides are doing gymnastics.
He looks up at Rory who is getting out of his seat and taking off his hoodie before straightening himself up. His little brother joins him with worries written all over his face.
“Tell Gaston we’re going to be at his border in less than five minutes. We need escorts until more of our men can get here, Adam.”
“Was this a set-up?” Rory asks and then looks up at him.
It’s the same question on his mind. Otherwise, why would Chase be requesting more backup?
“I’ll take care of it,” he tells Chase without waiting for an answer. “We’ll talk in person. Just let me know where.”
When they get inside Gaston’s warehouse, Gaston is pacing in front of the room Derrick must be in. Chase is leaning against the wall with blood all over his shirt and his hair disheveled.
“My doctor got here first but your doc and his team are in there now too,” Gaston tells him and Rory.
“Give us a minute?” he asks Gaston.
“I’m heading home,” Gaston replies. “My guys will stay behind as long as you need.”
“Thank you,” he replies cordially. “We have ours outside as well. Gaston, none of this to Stella right now,” he tells the man.
“You sure that’s a good thing?” Stella’s best friend asks. One of her best friends. The other one owns the safe house that Ariana is planted at.
Would he consider Gaston and McCullen friends? Probably not.
“Keeping her in the dark is never a good thing,” Gaston adds.
“It is for now. It’s late and she’ll be up with the baby soon anyway,” he replies.
Gaston grumbles and takes his leave without further protest. He can’t be sure if the man is going to take his advice though.
“So what the fuck happened and how bad is it?” Rory asks Chase who now pushes himself off of the wall.
“Those motherfuckers didn’t give a shit about the drop,” Chase tells them. “I’m one hundred percent sure they were there for blood.”
“Cristian?” he asks now.
“He was there. Untouched,” Chase replies. “They sniped Derrick. Fucking sniped him. I barely caught a glimpse of the red before shoving him out of the way. He took it through here,” Chase says and squeezes the fleshy part of his shoulder, too close to his neck.
“Fuck!” Rory says. Because it’s that fucking bad. Too many veins and arteries there.
“We lost some men,” Chase says. “I had to leave them behind but sent others for them once I was in the car with Derrick. I called you right after I sent them help.”
He nods. Chase did the right thing. Their men deserved that much.
“Let’s play this close for now,” he tells his siblings. “We don’t have proof yet that this was a setup. For all we know, Don Mazzilli was in on this himself.”