Page 59 of Promised Vows

“Wicker Park,” he cried. “Jason’s office. Stop it. Please stop it!” Another ear-piercing wail, and more thrashing. “There’s no way in. He’s got the place completely covered.”

“Thank you,” I said and pulled my weapon. “One last question.”

“What?” he screeched.

“Is Gabriele the one in charge?”

Lorenzo didn’t hesitate. “Yes. Please! Please!”

I pulled the trigger and silence filled the warehouse.

As I holstered my weapon, I was already returning to the car.

“Gabriele?” Dimitris lit a cigarette as he kept pace with me.

“Yeah, we’ll talk more once I’ve got Anna and she’s safe.”

Ares pulled open the door as we approached.

“Lykos.” The word was barked as I entered the car.

Fear mixed with anxiety settled like a rock in my stomach. I needed to get to Anna. I wasn’t sure what Michael had planned, but I knew I didn’t have much time.

Chapter Twenty-Six

ANNA

Whatever drug I’d been given didn’t want to let go. My eyes were glued shut, and cobwebs covered my mind. The one thing that stood out was the smell. It was familiar.

“Anna.” Jason’s strained voice came from somewhere. “Anna, are you okay?”

Groaning, I managed to peel one eye open and then the other. My vision slowly cleared, and I realized I was in Jason’s office, hands and feet bound, lying on the floor. I rolled my head and found Jason bound to a chair with both eyes bruised and swollen, his lip busted, and a large bruise lining the right side of his face. His shirt was torn, and dried blood ran from his nose to his chin.

A few feet away from him, Cora, his secretary, was bound, and it looked like she was still unconscious.

“Jason? What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure yet, other than I’m positive our father is going to kill me.”

How had Papa even managed to get to Jason? “Where’s Thomas?”

“Dead.” Jason’s voice was laced with grief. “He died trying to protect me.”

They’d been friends since we were children. I couldn’t begin to imagine what my brother was feeling. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” he whispered.

I rolled my head again, trying to see the rest of the room. “Where’s Papa?”

“I don’t know…” His voice trailed off.

My stomach churned, and bile tickled the back of my throat. I didn’t know if it was because of my emotional state, the drugs, or a little of both. “I don’t understand…” Tears clouded my vision. “Why would he do this?”

His head fell back. “I guess that he’s trying to finish what he started four years ago.”

The nausea was hitting hard. I took a few deep breaths, concentrated on my breathing, and tried to convince myself that I wouldn’t throw up. I needed something to think about other than vomiting. “Would you please tell me what happened?”

“Oh, Anna, does it matter now?”

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