Page 1 of Bonds of Obsession

1

QUINN

I’m holdingthe phone so tightly that my knuckles have gone white. My hand is starting to tremble from the barely-contained rage that keeps threatening to rise up. It’s like bile in my throat, and it’s all thanks to the fucker on the other end of the line.

Ambrose.

The Saint.

The sadistic mastermind who has been pulling our strings as if we’re his little puppets for way too fucking long. And now his words keep replaying over and over again in my head.

“Tick tock, Quinn. What’s it going to be? Your precious marker, or Atlas’s life?”

He’s using Atlas as a bargaining chip, dangling his life in front of me like a carrot on a stick. All so I can somehow get him into the Dark Lotus Syndicate.

I look over to meet Killian and Nico’s hard stares. Their jaws are clenched, and I can easily see the anger in their eyes—anger that only barely covers the concern for the friend who is close enough to be considered a brother. They know what’s at stake, what Ambrose is asking of me. But they also know how impossible his demand is.

Even if I knew how to use the marker that’s been cleverly hidden in the ink of my shoulder tattoo, the Syndicate is the last group I’d want to be associated with. There’s a reason why my father never used the marker for himself—but there’s also a reason why he passed it on to me.

I haven’t fully figured out either of those reasons, and this smug son of a bitch isn’t making things any easier.

“Time is running out, Quinn. I’m a busy man. What’s your decision going to be?”

I hate him, and I’m only getting angrier—and more worried about Atlas—every time he speaks. I can’t hold back all that anger anymore. Don’t even want to try.

“Listen here, you sadistic fuck,” I snarl into the phone. “If you lay one more finger on Atlas, I swear I’ll fucking kill you myself. You’ve messed with the wrong person today, you son of a bitch. You hear me? I’ll hunt you down and make you wish you’d never crossed my fucking path.”

My chest is heaving as I finish shouting into the phone. For a moment, there’s complete silence on the other end of the line. Then, just as I think I might have gotten through to him, a blood-curdling yell makes me jump out of my skin.

Atlas.

The sound of his pain rips through me like a knife, and I feel the blood drain from my face. Killian and Nico jump to their feet, their instincts to protect so strong that their hands are already on their guns.

“Stop!” I yell into the phone, my voice cracking. “Stop hurting him!”

But Atlas’s cries continue, each one driving home just how powerless I am in this situation. Ambrose has us right where he wants us, and he knows it.

The sound of Atlas’s screams cuts off abruptly, leaving a silence that’s just as deafening. My heart is pounding in my ears as I wait for Ambrose or Atlas or someone to say something.

“You disappoint me, Quinn.” Ambrose says after what feels like forever. Some of the smugness is gone from his voice now, and there’s no mistaking the sharpness in his tone for anything other than deadly. “Did you really think threats would work on me? I’m the one holding all the cards here.”

I hate that he’s right. I have enough sense to know it, though, so I bite my tongue, knowing that needling Ambrose will only make things worse for Atlas.

“Let me make something crystal clear,” he continues. “It would be my fucking pleasure to kill Atlas after he and the other Princes went back on their word to work for me. The only reason he’s still breathing is because he’s useful.”

My stomach drops at the casual way he talks about killing Atlas. I’ve done business with men like Ambrose for years—long enough to know when they’re bluffing.

He’s not bluffing.

I glance at Killian and Nico again, and their ashen faces mirror everything I’m feeling right now.

“But make no mistake,” Ambrose keeps going before I have a chance to say anything else. “If you refuse to bargain, then Atlas will no longer be useful to me. And we both know what happens to things that aren’t useful anymore, don’t we?”

With that threat hanging in the air, I close my eyes for a moment, hoping for some clarity. Praying I’ll open them again and wake up from this fucking nightmare. But I’m not dreaming this time. This isn’t a hallucination from the drugs that son of a bitch injected me with. Ambrose has backed us into a corner, and he knows it.

I open my eyes again as the words tumble out in a desperate rush. I can’t let him hurt Atlas any more than he already has.

“Wait! Ambrose, stop. I… I don’t know how to get you into the Dark Lotus Syndicate. I swear, I don’t even know how to use the marker.”

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