Page 29 of Claimed By my Fake Husband

Locked. Of course it is.

I don't care about the damage. I grab the display chair off the porch and hurl it through the bay window into the living room.

Glass shatters. I climb through, careful of the shards, and scan the room, waiting, listening for any sound.

Then I hear it.

"Uff!"

A muffled scream. Tess's scream. It's coming from the basement. I'm through the door and down the stairs before I can think, and there they are.

Cilento has a gun pressed to Tess's temple.

"Well, hello there, Mr. Bodyguard. So lovely of you to join us." Cilento sounds cool as ice, but I catch the tension in his fingers, his shoulders. "If you want this pretty little thing walking out of here without a hole in her head, you're going to call the FBI. We're going to make a deal."

"If you so much as?—"

"Ah, ah, ah. Don't get testy. Remember who's holding the gun, pretty boy."

I hate that he's right. I've got nothing on me. Fear got me moving too fast. I came in here without a weapon, without a plan.

Some part of me knows it's my feelings for Tess that made me sloppy. But those same feelings are making me dangerous.

Because I am pissed.

"She's not leverage with the FBI, Cilento. They're a bunch of suits. You think they'll drop charges to save her? They'll let her die. Gives them more to charge you with."

Tess's eyes go wide. I shift my gaze just enough to let her know I'm playing a card. If she's not valuable to him, maybe he backs off.

"Let's hope you're wrong. For Ms. Beaumont's sake." He sneers—the same look from every photo in Tess's article. "Because if she's not worth my time, I kill her. No witness, no trial."

So much for that plan.

"What do you want me to do?" I hold up my hands, careful not to rile him further. He's on a hair trigger, eyes bloodshot. Wouldn't surprise me if he'd dipped into his own product.

"Call your contacts,stronzo." He swings the gun toward me for a beat, his other arm still locked around Tess's throat. "Then hand her the phone. Speaker."

I move slow, dial the number. No point keeping the Feds out of the loop.

They'll send the cops. And if I can get Cilento angry enough to lose focus on Tess, I can get her out.

He's touchy. Alpha-dog energy with something to prove.

The phone rings. Reynolds picks up, and I set it on speaker.

"Logan? This is unexpected. What do you?—"

"Cilento wants a word. He's got a gun to Tess's head at the safe house."

I set the phone on the floor and kick it across to them. Cilento loosens his hold just enough for Tess to grab it, though his gun stays trained on her.

She holds the phone out for him. There's a little more space between them now. I like that.

"Hello, Reynolds. Don't believe we've had the pleasure. Your man Logan's right—Tess is in a bad spot. If you want her out of it, you're going to drop those charges against me. Get the judge on the line yourself and tell him you made a mistake."

"Cilento," Reynolds growls. I hear movement on his end—he's already got people moving. "You piece of shit. Let her go. This isn't helping you."

"I hold the cards here, fellas." He's figured out Reynolds isn't alone. "Drop 'em, or she dies."