Page 163 of Psycho Alphas: Part One

I glanced at the bottom to see the label: ‘Front_drive’.

It flicked to another feed, which was live, but ice slid down my spine, as, right before my eyes, the feed to the ballroom died.

Shit.

I tapped back to the text from Callum, fingers acting before my mind could catch up.

Me: Lock down.

It could be a glitch, but I wouldn’t risk it, not when they had a safe room they could get into.

I reopened the security app to see the black screen change again. This time, it wasn’t a dead feed, only the grainy black and white video wasn’t in a room I recognised.

It wasn’t in this mansion at all.

My hairs stood on end as the silent video played out before my eyes.

It looked like a small, cluttered apartment kitchen, and within was the blurred image of a woman. She looked familiar. I squinted as she glanced up, then her eyes went wide with terror as she saw who was holding the camera.

The feed skipped, and then she was holding a gun out. She’d retreated to the door I could see she was fumbling for, hand behind her back. Her gun arm darted around as if there were two people behind the camera.

She was desperate.

And then I saw the unmistakable movement of her lifting the gun to her own head, a jolt, and her body began to drop right as the feed went black.

My chest was tight, mind reeling.

I knew her, the short messy curls too familiar to miss: it was Christina. The Beta woman I’d bought and freed—the one who’d started a new life in LA as soon as it was safe to send her off.

That meant someone in the Ring knew I was freeing slaves.

And they were here.

My mind jumped to Thistle.

I reached for my gun before realising I’d left it downstairs.

Shit.

I had to get to her. I crossed the room, fist on the door handle as I typed a text to Rogue.

Me: Hide her.

I had to get downstairs—the basement could be locked down like a safe room.

The message didn’t deliver. I tried again, but the same thing happened. There was a clear‘no service’signal on the top of my phone screen.

Fuck…

My thoughts cut off as I stepped out into the dark hallway to find myself face to face with the barrel of a gun.

Behind it, I saw the jagged scar and cruel eyes of Rodrick Banner.

“Times up, Brother,” he drawled, jamming the metal up against my neck. “Bella is done waiting for you.”

FORTY-TWO

KNOX

---