Page 85 of Bonds of Obsession

“Hey.” He grips my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “You’re fighting a war on multiple fronts. Ambrose. The Syndicate. Your own people’s expectations. And you’re still standing.” His thumb brushes my lower lip. “That’s not weakness. That’s strength.”

Something in my chest eases, just slightly. Just enough to let me drag in a real breath.

The sound of boots on the stairs gives us warning before Atlas appears in the doorway, Killian right behind him. They both read the room instantly, frowning as tension radiates from their bodies.

“It’s time,” Killian says simply. There’s fresh blood on his knuckles—whatever errand he was running clearly involved violence.

I straighten my back and let Nico’s words settle in. I’m not weak, even though I feel that way right now.

I’m strong. Really fucking strong. I’ve proven it to myself, my friends, and my enemies time and time again. I’ll prove it again tonight.

29

QUINN

My heart poundsagainst my ribs as I crouch behind a parked car, watching the luxury hotel’s entrance. Two of Arturo’s men stand guard out front, their hands resting on concealed weapons.

“The left one keeps checking his phone,” Nico whispers beside me. “He could be our weak link.”

“Or he’s waiting for check-in signals,” I mutter back. “Atlas, how long until your distraction hits?”

Atlas checks his watch. “Three minutes. My guy knows what he’s doing.”

“He’d better,” Killian growls. “We only get one shot at this.”

Through my binoculars, I track movement on the penthouse floor. More of Arturo’s men are patrolling up there, keeping Celine locked away like a princess in a tower. Except this isn’t a fairy tale—it’s a fucking nightmare, and she’s living it.

“There are four on the top floor,” I whisper to my men. “Two guards by the elevator, two roaming.”

Nico nods. “We know from Elliot’s intel that there are two cameras in the hallway, one at each end. But the service corridors are blind spots.”

Killian’s massive frame shifts beside me. “Phone boy’s getting antsy.”

“Yeah, we need to get this fucking show on the road,” Nico says. “Atlas?”

“Ninety seconds.”

All four of us are armed to the teeth—guns, knives, flash grenades, the works—and we’ve gone over the plan a dozen times, but my stomach is still churning. Not because I’m afraid of what we’re about to do, but because of what the Dark Lotus Syndicate expects us to do.

“Remember,” I whisper, “She’s very pregnant. We have to keep her alive through the initial break-in, and we can’t risk roughing her up too much.”

“We know, mia cara,” Nico murmurs. “We’ve got you.”

A loud crash echoes from the parking garage, followed by shouting and the sound of breaking glass. The front guards exchange looks.

“Think that’s enough of a distraction?” Atlas asks dryly as both guards jog toward the sound.

“Subtle as always,” Killian says, but there’s approval in his voice.

“Move,” I whisper. We slip from shadow to shadow toward the service entrance, my heart in my throat. If this goes wrong, we’re all dead.

The service door’s lock is pathetically easy to pick. Within seconds, we’re inside the fluorescent-lit corridor that runs behind the hotel’s glossy facade.

“Clear right,” Nico murmurs.

“Clear left,” Killian responds.

“Security patrol schedule?” I ask, keeping my voice low.

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