Page 35 of Forbidden Vengeance

Back in my office overlooking the harbor, I try to focus on work, but rage keeps my hands shaking. I text Elena:Check in. Now.Then:Answer your fucking phone.

Nothing.

Growling, I shut the phone in my desk drawer. Boston’s gray skyline offers no comfort as I stare out the window, imagining all the ways I could make O’Connor pay for his threats.

The door opens without a knock. Siobhan stalks in, but she’s different now—gone is the arrogance from her father’s office. Now she vibrates with barely contained fury, her composure cracked around the edges.

“What the fuck do you want?” I growl, not in the mood for her bullshit.

“What the fuck was that?” she snarls, stalking to my desk. I barely recognize this version of Siobhan. Gone is the polished predator from her father’s office. Her perfectly styled red hair is slightly disheveled, like she’s been running her hands through it. That arrogant mask has cracked, revealing something raw and desperate underneath. “Bringing up my modernization efforts to my father? Are you trying to get mekilled?”

“Bit dramatic, even for you.” I lean back, studying how her hands shake slightly. Something’s off here. “Fair’s fair, especially since you told Daddy Dearest about Elena’s condition.”

“You fucking idiot!” She slams her hands on my desk hard enough to scatter papers. “You’ve puteverythingat risk—mylife, Sean’s life—because you can’t keep your goddamn mouth shut!”

I shrug, uncaring. “Not my problem if daddy doesn’t approve of your little power plays.”

“Littlepowerplays?” She laughs, but it holds an edge of hysteria. “You think this is about impressing my father? About proving myself?”

She runs a hand through her hair, further destroying its perfect style. “This is about survival, you arrogant prick. About dragging this organization into the modern era before we all end up dead or in prison.”

“What’s so important about your modernization that’s got you this scared, Siobhan?” I ask, curious. I’ve never seen Siobhan like this before.

Her face goes carefully blank, but not before I catch real fear in her eyes. “Get fucked.”

My phone buzzes in the drawer. Probably Elena finally responding, but I’m not about to check with Siobhan here.

A terrible smile spreads across her face, and just like that, she’s transformed again—terror replaced by vicious satisfaction. “I wouldn’t expect that to be Elena,” she coos.

My head snaps up. Something shifts in her expression—that clinical fascination returning, but now mixed with something almost gleeful. Like she’s grateful for the distraction from her own fears.

“What the fuck does that mean?” I ask tightly, my heart hammering.

One perfectly sculpted red eyebrow rises. “You don’t know?” Her voice drips with false concern. “And here I thought you kept such close tabs on your…asset. All those careful arrangements, all that meticulous planning, and you still can’t protect what’s yours.”

I’m across the room in two strides, my hand around her throat as I pin her to the wall. “What the fuck did you do to Elena?”

Instead of fear, she digs her nails into my hand until I release her, drawing blood. “Poor Elena was whisked to the hospital an hour ago.”

She straightens her Prada blazer, looking far too delighted. “Seems you haven’t taught her proper security protocols. Opening strange envelopes like a rookie…” She tsks. “Especially when they’re filled with what appears to be anthrax.”

Siobhan’s words are like a slap to the face. Anthrax? Elena? The baby…

“You—”

“Oh no, not me.” She moves toward the door, that mask of controlled calculation sliding back into place. “I have much bigger concerns than your girlfriend. But perhaps if you’d kept your mouth shut about my operations, I might have warned her about the envelope.”

She pauses at the door. “Funny how actions have consequences, isn’t it?”

I’m frozen, unable to speak.

“Frightening how quickly some toxins can affect pregnant women,” Siobhan adds with a cruel smile before shutting the door behind her.

I nearly break the desk drawer yanking it open, my hands shaking so badly I can barely grab my phone. Please let her be lying.Pleaselet this be another one of her fucking mind games.

But the buzzing notification wasn’t Elena. Just a fucking spam email about dick pills.

“No, no, no…” The word becomes a growl as I dial Elena’s number.

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