Page 111 of The Devil's Pawn

“You’ll get it.”

She resumes her previous position, sighing as she rests her head on my shoulder once more. “I didn’t sign the papers.”

“I know.”

“Will you have new ones drawn up?”

“No.”

“Does that mean you’re keeping me?”

My chest tightens, and I draw her closer to me. “Forever, Little Pawn. There’s no escape.”

“Good, because this is where I want to be.”

She may think differently when she knows what I’ve done to her, but that’s tomorrow’s problem.

Once the hot water has done its job, I dry us both and tuck her up in bed. She refuses anything to eat, and by the time I flick off the bedside lamp, she’s already asleep. Kissing her on the forehead, I caress her cheek and take one last look at the woman I might have lost if it weren’t for the tracker in her arm.

I’m ready to face her fury when I tell her the truth, but however mad she is, I wouldn’t change what I did. That tracker allowed me to pinpoint her location and rescue her within an hour of finding out she was missing. Considering she left her phone with Vicky, the tracker is what saved her. Without it, Edgerton would have tortured and killed her in his sick game of revenge.

I head down to the bowels of the house, where I told Steven to take Edgerton. When I enter, an unexpected, if familiar face greets me with a raised hand and a wry smile.

“Mahoney, what are you doing here?”

Patrick Mahoney is the head of the Irish Mafia. My family calls upon him and his brothers whenever we need muscle, but I didn’t bring him here today.

“Yer brother here called. Said you had a job for me.”

I glance over at Nicholas, who shrugs. “Every death leaves a stain on our soul, Xan. I’m not sure this piece of shit is worth staining yours for.” He juts his chin at Patrick. “So, I sent him a text as soon as we left Chalk Farm. It’s your call, though.”

I don’t agree with my brother, but I appreciate the gesture. Killing Will with my bare hands isn’t an issue for me. Hetouchedmy wife. Heabductedmy wife. Hehurtmy wife. He planned tokillmy wife. In my world, those crimes are unforgivable.

But death takes time—at least it does the way I do it—and I’m eager to get back to Imogen. I don’t want her to wake and find I’m not there.

I stalk over to Edgerton. He looks out of it, head lolled forward. I slap his face, and he jerks to with a moan. One eye is swollen shut, and there’s dried blood caked around his nostrils. His hands are looped behind his back and fastenedto the wooden chair he’s sitting on—his ankles, too. I plant my hands on the arms of the chair and tip it backward until it’s resting precariously on two legs.

“I fucking warned you what would happen if you touched my wife.” My voice is eerily calm. I don’t get mad in these situations; I get fucking even.

Give the idiot his due, he dares to glare at me as if he has any power, anger swirling in his eyes. “Do your fucking worst. You think you scare me? You don’t.”

Nicholas’s snicker comes from somewhere over my left shoulder. Patrick is dead silent.

“You should be scared. Oh, but not of me.” I drop the chair back into place and turn to face the Irishman. “Patrick, he’s all yours.”

He dips his chin once. “Any special requests?”

I consider his question for a moment. “Yeah. He looked at my wife, so take his eyes. And he put his hands on her, so take those, too. After that, do whatever you want to him as long as he’s not breathing at the end of it.”

Before I even have the chance to close the door, the first piercing scream erupts.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

IMOGEN

Gradually, I awaken, cocooned in Alexander’s embrace, with the warmth from the morning sun on my face. I snuggle closer, knowing that as soon as I’m fully conscious, the events of yesterday will take over, and fear of what might have happened will choke me.

While I had good reasons for what I did, I want to slap myself over the stupidity of it all. During those terrifying moments when Will's grip tightened on my hair, thwarting my escape attempt, a chilling realization struck: the chance of returning to Alexander could be lost forever. My husband has already suffered one terrible loss through abduction, and there I was, gallivanting around London, without a thought for my safety or his peace of mind.

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