Page 62 of Unchained

“You wanna tell me why you’re attempting to force-feed yourself until you throw up?” Colten asks, his voice gentle.

I drink some of the wine and set it down. “Just a thing growing up. We were taught never to leave food someone else has cooked for you.”

He hums, eyes landing directly on mine. “But you’re paying for the food. You could eat nothing and no one would care.”

I shrug. “I guess. Yeah.”

That does make me feel somewhat better. “Wait. I’m paying?” I gasp, placing a hand over my chest.

He grins. “You’re my wife; it’s on me.”

I cross my arms. “Is being nice to me an attempt to throw me off the scent of your revenge plan?”

This is the first time I’ll be sleeping in the same house as my husband. And I’m concerned that I might like that too much. I’m more worried about that than I am about him sneaking into my room to smother me in my sleep.

His eyes darken, but his expression doesn’t change. “Maybe. Maybe not. You’ll never know.”

The energy shifts in the room; the waiters all freeze, their eyes darting to the entrance. Colten’s eyes are already there; I turn slowly to catch a glimpse.

“Recognize them?” I ask.

He shakes his head.

“Me neither.”

But we both know they’re exactly who we’re looking for just by the energy they give off. The way they command and change a room.

“I’ll go investigate,” I say, standing up. Before I can walk away, he catches my wrist and drags me back towards him, making me bend over him.

His lips brush against my cheek. “You’ve got two minutes before I come and get you. Understand, G?”

I turn to face him, our noses touching. “Yes, hubby. Loud and clear.”

He releases my wrist, and I stroke my hand along his stubble. “People are watching; we have to look like this is a real honeymoon.”

He licks his lips as I back away towards the bathroom corridor where the two men just went and push it open. The kitchen is on my left, and the steam coming from there makes me cough. I press my hand over my mouth and rest against the wall.

Two guys at the back in suits are talking to one of the chefs; a lot of grand hand movements are going on. It’s like watching my brothers when they used to argue. I pull out my phone, snap a quick picture, zoom in, and send it straight to Colten.

“Are you okay, miss?” a young waitress asks behind me.

“Oh.” I pretend to be flustered. “Yes. Sorry. I was looking for the bathrooms and got distracted by how absolutely fascinating it is watching them cook,” I lie.

She smiles, pressing her hand against my back, making me coil up inside. Physical touch by a stranger? People have lost fingers for that. “Ladies' room is down the end of the hall on the right,” she says.

I nod politely. “Thank you.”

She stays where she is, and I know she’s watching me as I make my way down the hallway. Once I’m inside the bathroom, I send Colt a text.

ME: I’d bet 200k they are who we need.

He replies fast.

COLTEN STERLING: They’re leaving. I’ve noted the registration on the car. My guys are looking into it now. Come and have dessert.

This is exactly why we need to be in Enzo’s organization. It’s worldwide. No one is safe against him. All it takes is one sighting, and you’re fucked. They can hack into anything. Find out whatever they need on just about anyone. That is exactly the power we need behind us. Not the fucking motorcycle club my father keeps getting us involved in.

We don’t need manpower; we need brains.