Page 1 of Savage Reign

1

SILAS

I stoodbehind the desk in the office and looked down at the kneeling woman in front of us.

It took everything in me not to fucking jump over the table and kill the fucking bitch.

And I knew I wasn’t the only one feeling like this. The tension in the room was high, and there wasn’t any noise save for the fucking sobbing.

Did she really think crying was going to get my sympathy?

If anything, it just made me want to lose control. I glanced over at Maverick standing beside me. His face was encased in an impenetrable mask of indifference. I quickly looked away and back at Zoe.

She clasped her hands together, more tears flowing down her face. What an ugly sight.

“Please. I didn’t realize how important she was. Please.”

“No?” Maverick asked, his voice mild. “You think we make it a habit to track anyone? Spoil them? Keep them locked up with us? ’Cause we sure as hell didn’t do that with you.”

Zoe flinched, her eyes downcast. She fucking knew Mila was different. She fucking knew when none of us had even touched her since we took Mila.

And she didn’t fucking like it. Perhaps it ruined her fantasy of becoming Mrs. Tiernan, living a life of luxury, or hell, because it reminded her that she was essentially powerless in this world, and no matter what she did, she wouldn’t have held an ounce of the magnetism that Mila did simply by existing.

It didn’t fucking matter because she helped Mila escape. It had been three fucking days since she disappeared.

Three fucking days since I’d last looked into those sea-colored eyes of hers.

Three days away from us, from our protection. And Sebastian Cline, the previous VP of the Heartless Saints MC, now the fucking president, was gunning for her.

My fists clenched at the thought. We had spent the last three days scouring every inch of the city, looking for her. We didn’t think she had gotten far, but fuck, where was she?

“Why did you help her escape?” Killian asked Zoe. I frowned at him. I had thought it was obvious, but something about the way he asked it gave me pause. “You wouldn’t have risked our wrath otherwise. Not unless you didn’t plan on sticking around.”

I had thought she was scared before, but it was nothing compared to the way the blood drained away from her face. The tears stopped, and she tried to push away, struggling against the binds around her wrists and ankles. The makeup she had on three days before when we had locked her up was smeared all over her face.

Besides the first interrogation for her to tell us what we already knew—that she had helped remove the tracking from Mila’s back and showed her to the back door—we kept the bitch in one of the cages we had down in the basement of the club.

“Someone paid you to do this, didn’t they?” I guessed. “And you were going to use the money to run away, get out of Chicago, and away from our wrath.”

She shook her head.

“Who?” Killian asked. Maverick placed a hand on Killian’s chest when it looked like he was about to jump over the table to get to her. I had a bad fucking feeling.

She shook her head.

I leaned forward, resting my weight on the table. “I don’t give a fuck what you thought about us. Let me assure you, we’re much worse. And I’ll show you exactly what I mean if you don’t fucking talk now.”

“I don’t know who the man is. He was just loitering around the club. He approached me one night and said he would pay big money to anyone willing to run an errand for him.”

I took in a deep breath, trying to keep myself from losing control. “What did he look like?”

She shook her head. “I don’t… he was good-looking, if not a little rough. Short blond hair, almost bald, and green eyes. Please, that’s all I know.”

The description matched Sebastian, but there was no way to know until we scoured all the cameras nearby to see if we could get an image of the bastard on camera.

“How much?” I asked.

She looked like she didn’t want to say, which told me the amount would have been ridiculous.

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