Page 61 of The Devious Husband

I laugh again, only for the sound of a helicopter to startle me. “Ugh, reporters. I can’t believe they’ve resorted to using a helicopter,” I tell Xavier as I walk up to the window to close the blinds. “They did that when the news about Raven and Ares’s wedding broke too.”

“No!” Xavier shouts, startling me. “Stay away from the windows, Sierra. Zach issued a ban on helicopters near your office. Those are not reporters.”

An alarm goes off in my office just as my windows are kicked in. “Two men. Army green clothing. Black masks. Army style black boots,” I tell him on autopilot, courtesy of the kidnapping training Lex forced me to go to for years. “I love you,” I add, knowing there’s every chance I’ll never get another chance to speak to him again.

Xavier shouts my name, and I just about manage to shout back that he shouldn’t let Lexington or my grandmother find out before I’m grabbed and pulled out of the window and into the helicopter. I try my best to scramble out of my captors’ grip, but they’re too fast, too strong, and the last thing I see before I’m knocked out is dozens of bodyguards storming into my office, my mother-in-law not far behind them, a gun in her hands and clear panic in her eyes.

By the time I come to, I’m bound to a chair in an empty warehouse, my head pounding and my vision swimming. I blink rapidly as I try to focus on the man walking toward me. My heart sinks when I realize he isn’t wearing a mask — he thinks I won’t walk out of here alive, or he’d never have shown me his face. I take note of his brown eyes and graying gray, the thick scar on his forehead and his pale skin, along with his ill-fitting black suit and the faded tattoos on his neck. I try my best to memorize every single thing in an attempt to slip a clue into any ransom videos they ask me to make, but the fact that he’s shown me his face scares me.

“Let me guess?” I croak out. “An abandoned warehouse? What a cliche.”

I’d braced myself to be hit, but he merely laughs, catching me off guard. I’d expected him to lose his temper and inadvertently give me a clue as to where I am, or how many men there are. “Feisty. It’s clear what he sees in you.”

I take a deep breath, realization dawning. This isn’t a normal kidnapping. He isn’t after me because I’m a Windsor and able to pay a hefty ransom, which explains why he isn’t wearing a mask. It’s not money he’s after. This is revenge — on Xavier.

He sits down in an empty chair in front of me and smiles in the eeriest way, his eyes cold and dead as he opens the folder he was carrying. “You’re going to sit here, and I’m going to tell you about every single crime your husband has ever committed, and I’m going to film it all. Your precious husband will get to see the growing disgust in your eyes, your dimming love and respect for him, and then he’s going to watch you die knowing that in your final moments, you regretted ever being with a monster like him.”

I try my best not to panic and force an innocent smile. He’s a storyteller, and I’ll get to live for as long as I keep him talking. I only have to stay alive long enough for my family to find me, and the creep sitting opposite me has no idea whose wrath he’s invoking. It isn’t just the Kingstons he’ll have to contend with. It’s the Windsors too, the Sinclairs no doubt not far behind them. He has no idea how big of a mistake he made when he targeted me. I’m so much more than just Xavier’s wife, and he’s about to find out the hard way.

“Crimes?” I question in my most innocent baby voice, putting on an act, just like I was taught. “Oh no, I t-think… m-maybe there’s b-been a misunderstanding? My husband is t-the sweetest m-man.”

He laughs as he grabs a roll of tape, and my heart sinks when he tapes my mouth shut, depriving me of an opportunity to needle him and gather clues. “Now, where were we?” he asks, before he holds up a photo, his eyes sparkling crazily as he begins to tell me about a guy whose dick Xavier apparently cut off. I can only guess why, and that man is lucky I didn’t get to him first.

Fifty-Three

Xavier

“Breathe,” Zach tells me as I stare at the live feed of Sierra being told about every gruesome thing I’ve ever done, her captor’s eerie scrambled voice audible. There isn’t a single identifiable clue in the video — just a clear white backdrop, and Sierra bound to a chair, her mouth taped shut. “Every police officer in the city is looking for her.”

Dion wraps his arm around me and holds me up while Silas and his wife both type furiously, trying to figure out where the live stream is coming from.

“So far, she’s given signs for abandoned warehouse, three men, bound with rope, guns, windows, and a breeze. She indicated that she was knocked out for a while, so we have no timing date to create a radius with,” Valeria says, watching Sierra’s every move. Her ability to stay perfectly calm despite the situation both awe-inspiring and terrifying.

“They have no idea who they’re messing with,” she says when Sierra flinches just slightly as she’s told about a guy I threw off the same bridge he’d thrown his pregnant ex-girlfriend off, “or what I’ll do to them when I find them.”

It wasn’t until an hour ago that I found out Valeria has been working a lot more closely with Elijah than I thought, going on missions with him to wipe out the list of people she memorized while she was taken captive. Neither of them told me that keeping her from being photographed mattered more for her safety than I could’ve possibly imagined.

“That’s another one that’s empty,” Ares growls, despair written all over his face as he and his wife tick of warehouses we think could meet the descriptions Sierra is trying to give us, the two of them directing joint teams of Silas Sinclair’s security personnel and ours.

Every single person that loves Sierra is here, except for Lex, Raya, and her grandmother, who aren’t aware she’s missing. It would be too triggering for Lex, and Sierra was right to demand I hide it from him, but I can’t help but wonder if maybe he could figure out where the fuck they’re keeping my wife.

“This was a gruesome one,” her captor says, his voice distorted. “Your beloved husband shot him in the stomach and watched him bleed to death.”

I can feel bile rising up my throat and take a calming breath, trying my best not to focus on the fact that all of my brothers-in-law are listening to everything that’s being said too. It isn’t just Sierra that won’t look at me the same anymore. I bury my hands in my hair, feeling fucking helpless.

“Sierra is doing well. She’s staying calm,” Luca says, his voice grim. “Her breathing looks even, and her eyes are clear.”

Zane throws me a reassuring glance, despite the pain in his eyes. “Her attention hasn’t slipped once. She’s given us clues letting us know she’s okay and repeating the same information steadily, in case we missed anything. You need to stay calm and get out of your head, because she’s going to need you when we find her.”

Raven gently squeezes my arm, her eyes red. “He’s right,” she tells me, her voice hoarse from her endless tears. “Right now, I’d just be grateful for how long that list is, and how well she’s keeping calm.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose as I stare at the screen. “She’s given us a sign to say there’s sunlight, so she’s clearly not underground. Where the fuck could she be, and why the fuck can’t we find her?”

I glance at Elijah, my emotions boiling over. “Undo that voice scrambling bullshit. None of this shit these guys are doing is working — they haven’t figured out where the feed is coming from, haven’t figured out what this guy’s source of information could be, and we can’t just sit here and expect to find her by checking abandoned warehouses without a fucking radius.”

“On it,” Elijah says instantly.

Hunter paces back and forth and pulls a hand through his hair. “Should we consider a social media appeal? Between my audience, Raven’s, and Faye’s, I think we might just be able to utilize the masses to find her.”

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