Page 11 of King of Ashes
I won’t fail.
I can’t.
Taking some of my men with me as a distraction, I step inside the private plane.
They sense my broody vibe. Silent and focused, I spread the map of the compound on the table, pointing out the order in which they will land in the zone.
The team readies their packs, and once the plane reaches the drop zone, they fall out one by one.
I am the last to spread my arms open and plunge into madness, the night providing the perfect camouflage. Each team member checks in upon landing, and I give the go-ahead to proceed as planned. With my infrared goggles, I slip by undetected, giving the men at her compound a lesson in humility.
I had dipped my toes into the weapons business, knowing that through our marriage, I will have to lead that as well. Zara wanted nothing to do with it. She preferred to ignore it, but as she adored her father and loved me, she overlooked our flaws and criminal dealings.
A twig twists under my boot, alerting one guard who aims his gun and runs toward the sound.
In a real situation, I would have shot him, but I just back into a tree and slow my breathing, going deadly silent. Cloaked by the night and one with the trunk, he doesn’t notice me as he runs past.
Damn, I need to focus. Shoving all thoughts of her away, I move like a shadow from one tree to another, reaching the mansion undetected.
That’s the fucking issue: if someone is determined enough, he will find a solution. No safety measure is 100 percent safe.
Gunshots ring in the distance, my men doing their job as planned, and the few guards patrolling the entrance of her house immediately stalk off, leaving her unprotected. That thought alone enrages me enough that I could put a bullet through all of them.
The lights turn on, making it more difficult to go unseen, so I climb the side of the house, my fingers digging into the dips between the bricks as I heave myself up. Hopping onto her balcony, I slip inside her bedroom through the glass door. Then I drop onto the bed, waiting for her, my tranquilizer gun lying on my stomach, ready to be used.
I can hear some yelling, her frustration clear in her voice.
“I’m dealing with the issue myself,” she snaps and bursts into the room, coming to an abrupt halt. “You.” She stabs me with a death glare.
She’s the only person who can slay me with just one look. I am a fucking masochist who enjoys pure torture as long as she’s the one inflicting it.
“Hello, Zara, I came to pick up my wife.”
Her hand moves behind her back.
I cock my head, tsking. “I wouldn’t do that.” Lifting the gun, I point the muzzle at her shoulder. “By the time you wake up, you’ll be in Chicago.”
“I have a fucking mole in my team. Otherwise you couldn’t have pulled this off,” she shouts, her cheeks reddening with frustration.
Fuck, she looks hot when she’s pissed. My cock stirs in my pants, raw need coursing through my veins and making it difficult to focus.
She goes for the gun, and I shoot before she can reach for hers. “A deal is a deal. And you made one with the devil who came to collect.”
She gasps, wobbling on her feet. The gun topples at her side, and I rush to catch her before she hits the floor. Feeling her lithe body pressed against me sends a rush of potent emotions through my insides, reviving my comatose soul.
I have her back. Finally.The realization threatens to knock me down.
With her lids fluttering closed, I watch her for long minutes as if reacquainting myself with every inch of her flawless face, from her delicate cheekbones to her slender neck and heart-shaped lips. She’s a divine beauty.
Since the first moment my eyes found her, I was hooked, and she became my sole addiction, the hit of ecstasy I craved like the ultimate junkie. This woman owns me––an irrefutable fact. The truth of my life.
I gather her in my arms, pressing my trembling lips to her forehead, inhaling her sweet scent—a summer flower garden surrounding me.
I carry her out where Conrad awaits me. “Now what?”
I can’t take my eyes off her, not caring about anything but this. “Now I have her.”
“What if she remembers?” he whispers.
