Page 70 of Dublin Charmer
“What is all this?” I ask, nodding toward the activity.
He doesn’t answer, just shoves me forward toward a set of wide metal stairs leading up to a row of offices suspended against the back wall. The offices have glass windows looking out over the warehouse floor, perfect for supervision.
Perfect for the asshole king to look down on his subjects.
If Gio is here, I won’t find him unless I get away from Donal. My fingers twitch with the urge to text Finn, but my phone was confiscated the moment I got into the SUV.
“Move,” Donal growls, pushing me up the stairs.
I stumble on the wet metal, catching myself on the railing. “I’m moving, asshole.”
At the top, Donal steers me toward the middle office and shoves me inside. The door clangs shut behind me.
Billy Gravely sits at a metal desk, phone pressed to his ear. His expensive suit looks out of place against the industrial backdrop. He holds up one finger without looking at me.
“If the storm is as bad as they’re predicting, it’ll give us the cover we need,” he says into the phone. “Aye, everyone you can round up. Let me know when it’s done.”
He hangs up and finally meets my gaze. His eyes are cold, calculating—different from the usual faux-friendly mask he wears.
“Nyx,” he says, the name sounding wrong on his lips. “Have a seat.”
I remain standing. “What the hell? Donal grabbed me at the diner and threw me in a truck like a fucking caveman. He took my phone. He took my laptop. He made me wear a bag over my head. What the fuck is going on, Billy?”
Gravely leans back in his chair, the leather creaking in protest. “That’s what I’ve been asking myself. What exactly isgoing on?” He taps his fingers on the desk. “I used to consider ye my good luck charm. My ace in the hole against the enemy.”
“And nothing’s changed. I’ve done everything you’ve asked.”
“Have ye, now?” He stands, circling the desk. “Because lately, everything you help me with turns to shit. The Christmas attack? Disaster. The surveillance on the Quinn systems? Compromised. And just how did the youngest McGuire brats not only get away, but get picked up by Quinn men and taken to Northside?”
My face remains neutral even as my pulse quickens. “Your men had all the intel for the Christmas attack. Their failure was not on me. I admit I wasn’t expecting Finn to run such tight security, but I told you I can break it, and I will. As for the McGuire boys, you called me to watch the warehouse and pave the way for your men, so that’s what I did.”
“And yet...” He stops directly in front of me. “I’m left wondering if you’re not motivated to help me anymore Or worse, actively sabotaging me.”
“I wouldn’t risk that. My brother?—”
“Is the only reason yer still breathing,” he finishes, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “I don’t think yer stupid enough to fuck me over and risk his safety, but my patience has limits, bitch.”
The insult sends ice through my veins.
A sharp knock interrupts us.
“What?” Billy barks.
A man cracks the door. “You’re needed downstairs, boss. The shipment from Belfast has arrived early.”
Billy’s jaw tightens. “Fine.” He turns to me. “Don’t move. We’re not finished.”
He stalks out, and I hear the distinct click of a lock engaging.
The moment he’s gone, I spring into action, searching the office. There’s a desk phone, but there’s no dial tone when I lift the receiver. No computer. No fax machine. No nothing.
The windows looking out to the warehouse floor don’t open, and the ones looking outside are too thick to break without something substantial to smash them with.
I press my face against the glass, looking down to the asphalt below. Not a good plan. If I managed to break the glass and hike myself over the window ledge, I’d break my legs from the fall.
Shifting to the other side of the room, I scan the warehouse below for any sign of Gio. There’s a smaller room at the far end with a guard posted outside. Could he be in there?
I try the door again. Locked tight.
