Page 62 of Bonds of Obsession

My phone buzzes, and the number on the screen makes my blood run cold. “Fuck, just a second.” I step away from the group and answer, keeping my voice steady even though the rage coursing through my veins has suddenly been dialed back up to eleven. “What do you want?”

“You think you’re so fucking clever, don’t you?” Ambrose’s voice is dripping with venom. “Using the marker for yourself and playing everyone against me.” He barks out a laugh that’s sharp enough to cut glass. “I spent a long, long time setting thisup. Watching you, sending your lovers to spy on you, patiently waiting while the four of you played right into my hands.”

My fingers tighten on the phone. Killian shifts closer, his presence steady as stone beside me, while Atlas and Nico move to block the rest of my people from getting too close. Creating a barrier between me and them, letting me handle this without an audience.

“Sorry to ruin your plans.” I know I need to be cautious not to antagonize him too much more than I already have, but… fuck it. Fuck him and everything he’s done to me. To us. “Maybe next time don’t torture someone I care about.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” The endearment sounds like a death threat. “The marker might be gone, but I’m just getting started with you. I’m the kind of man who remembers his debts. And you?” He pauses. “You owe me for what you took from me. You owe me dearly. And you’re going to pay.”

“I don’t owe you shit.”

“We’ll see about that. Your time will come. You might have won the first round in a fluke, but I’m better at this game than you are. I’ve been playing it longer. When I come for you again, the Syndicate won’t save you. Your golden pussy—or whatever it is you used to lure those men in—won’t save you.”

Ice floods my veins. “Go to hell.”

“You first. But before I send you there, I’m going to take everything from you. Your gang. Your territory. Those three attack dogs you keep on such short leashes.” His voice drops lower, almost intimate. “And when you’re alone and broken, then I’ll come for you.”

My stomach twists, but I force steel into my voice. “Big talk from someone who couldn’t even hold on to Atlas when he had him.”

“Keep running that mouth. We both know you’re scared. I can hear it in your voice—that little tremor of fear.” He chuckles.“Sleep tight, Quinn. And remember, every time someone you love bleeds… it’s because of the choices you made.”

The line goes dead, and I lower the phone slowly. Around me, my men are tense, coiled for violence. But it’s my people I’m worried about—the ones watching with wary eyes, the ones who’ve already suffered because of me.

Nico catches my eye, and I see my own fears reflected there. How the fuck are we supposed to fight a war on two fronts? The Tyrants coming at us with inside knowledge of our operations, and Ambrose… a shadow with too many resources and nothing left to lose.

I straighten my spine, shoving down the cold knot of fear in my stomach. I can’t let them see me weak. Not now. Not ever.

22

QUINN

I meetNico’s gaze first, then Killian’s, then Atlas’s. None of us need to say it out loud—we all heard Ambrose’s promises of violence. Of death and destruction. And he was so certain about it all.

This isn’t just business anymore. Whatever transactional relationship the Princes used to have with Ambrose ended when we all started developing feelings for each other.

No, we’re way beyond business disagreements. This is personal, and I’m pretty sure we all know that Ambrose won’t stop until he at least tries to get to us.

“He won’t touch you.” Atlas is the first to speak. “Not while I’m breathing.”

“While any of us are breathing,” Killian corrects, and something in my chest tightens at the steel in his voice and at the way Nico nods in silent agreement.

These men. These beautiful, deadly men who would tear the world apart to keep me safe. Just like I’d do for them.

“We should get you home,” Nico says, but I shake my head.

“I need to finish things here first.” I gesture at my gathered people, still watching us with worried faces. “We need new protocols in place before anyone leaves tonight. New routes. Ineed to start setting up new safe houses…” I swallow hard. “I won’t lose anyone else.”

The men exchange looks, then settle in around me like guard dogs. They don’t try to rush me, don’t try to force me to leave. They just create a protective barrier while I do what needs to be done.

Hours blur together as I work in the office, going over maps and plans with my top people. Damon brings coffee at some point. Jasper reports on some concerning movement at our borders. Through it all, my men remain steady presences. Atlas prowls the perimeter like a caged beast despite his injuries, Killian cleans his guns—then mine, then Nico’s, then Atlas’s too—and Nico makes calls to his own contacts, doing everything he can to help me secure and hold Enigma’s territory.

My head is pounding, but I have to keep working. Keep planning. Keep trying to find a way to protect everyone I care about from the storm that’s coming.

“You need rest,” Atlas finally says, his warm hand settling on my neck. I lean into his touch without meaning to, exhaustion hitting me like a physical weight.

“Almost done.” I shuffle through more papers, but the words are all starting to blur together. “Just need to?—”

“Quinn.” Nico’s voice is gentle but firm. “Your preliminary plans are solid. Your people know what to do for now. Let us take you home.”

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