Page 80 of They All Own Me

"One wrong word," I whisper, "and it'll be your last."

"H-hello?" Thomas's voice shakes.

A distorted voice crackles through the speaker. "Senator Cope. I trust you've been expecting our call." I look to Connor, who mouths Hong Kong. I can visibly see Dominic deflate with knowing it wasn't the Albanians.

"Yes." The blade presses deeper as Thomas swallows. "What do you want?"

"Your wife sends her regards. She's been... most accommodating. Though she'd probably appreciate better treatment."

My grip on the phone tightens until my knuckles turn white. The thought of Tatum being hurt makes my blood boil.

"Let me speak to her," Thomas demands, trying to sound authoritative despite his current position.

"All in good time, Senator. First, let's discuss the price of your wife's safe return."

The distorted voice continues through the speaker, "Twenty-four hours, Senator. Five million in unmarked bills. The location will be texted to this phone."

I clench my jaw, watching Thomas's face for any reaction. His split lip trembles.

A piercing scream cuts through the speaker - Tatum's voice, raw and terrified. My stomach drops. Connor's hand tightens on his weapon while Dom's expression darkens dangerously.

"That's just a taste," the voice warns. "Clock's ticking."

The line goes dead. The basement fills with a heavy silence, broken only by Thomas's labored breathing.

"You stupid fuck," I snarl, grabbing his collar. "How many more criminal organizations are you in bed with?"

Thomas's bloodied lips curl into a smirk. "What's the matter? All three of you seem awfully concerned about my wife." His eyes narrow. "Is that what this is about? You want Tatum?"

Dom steps forward, his voice deadly calm. "Focus on what matters here. Where would they take her?"

"Oh, I see how it is." Thomas laughs, a wet, ugly sound. "The three big bad mobsters fell for the pretty little housewife. All you had to do was name a price, we could have done without all this bullshit."

My fist connects with his jaw before I can stop myself. Blood sprays across the concrete.

"Issac," Connor warns, pulling me back. "Dial it in."

"Listen carefully," Dom says, leaning close to Thomas's face. "Your wife's life is on the line. Whatever sick game you think this is, it ends now. Where would they take her?"

Thomas spits red onto the floor. "If it's up to her, somewhere tropical." He laughs.

I grab him by his perfectly styled hair, forcing him to look at me. "You think this is funny fucker? Let me tell you what's gonna happen. We're all gonna find Tatum, and when we do, you'll never see her again."

"What makes you think she wants any of you?" He tries to sneer, but the effect is ruined by his split lip. "You don't have enough money for her taste."

Dom steps forward, his voice ice cold. "You don't know her at all. It's got nothing to do with money and everything to do with respect. We've shown her more in weeks than you have in years."

"And yeah," Connor adds, crossing his arms. "We all want her. The difference is, we'd worship her instead of treating her like a trophy wife."

I release Thomas's hair with enough force to make his head snap back. "When this is over, you'll be rotting in prison while she's free to do whatever - and whoever - she wants." I look over at the cuffs still hanging from the pipes in the corner.

"And I hope it's me, right over there again, while she's chained up and screaming my fucking name."

Thomas's face contorts with rage. "You son of a bitch, you can't-"

"He can and we will," Dom cuts him off. "The evidence we have on you would put you away for decades. The drugs, the corruption, the money laundering - all of it."

"And that's if you survive this mess you've created," I add, checking the rope binding his wrists to make sure it's secure.

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