Page 43 of Broken Innocence
It’s Fabian’s.
The bastard waits for our arrival on the front steps like it’s a damn holiday.Shit.This isn’t good. I haven’t seen my asshole half-brother since the disastrous family dinner weeks ago. He’s been keeping a low profile. No more warehouse fires or movement on the docks.
I’ve been grateful for the reprieve from official Blackchapel Bastards business, but it’s obvious his brief retreat into hermithood was a guise as he geared up for something bigger.
Like capturing me and Eden alone and unarmed.
Un-fucking-prepared.
Eden’s thumb hurries across my phone’s screen then flips it back over to hide her discreet messaging. I’m not sure what she sent or to whom, but I pray it gets to the right people—namely, my brothers.
“Welcome, brother.Sister.” Fabian winks as we exit the sedan amid a waiting formation of five guards. The driver disappears into the house with a sly smirk.
Eden shrinks into my side, and I hold her close, studying our surroundings for a way out of this mess. Extra guards patrol the perimeter, creating a wall of soldiers I’d have to take down while somehow keeping my wife safe beside me.
I’m good, but notthatgood.
The quantity of hired mercs beats the quality of my training, which stings.
“What are we doing here?” I ask, keeping my body slightly forward as a shield to protect Eden. It’s my only safeguarding option at the moment, and it’s not much.
“Well, since you were so interested in my business by the docks. I thought I’d give my favorite couple firsthand experience at what you fucked up.” Fabian motions to the guards, and we trek inside the gaudy foyer.
We’re shown to the basement where there’s a setup similar to the ones in the ASMR videos Eden used to watch, and I brace for impact. A camera sits on a tripod aimed toward a raised flatbed with white sheets. Various bottles of oils and lotions line the counter on one wall, while mirrors form a reflective backdrop on another.
What the hell does he have planned?
“That little rescue mission cost me,” Fabian drawls, rubbing his hands together like your stereotypical evil villain. He probably likens himself to one. A narcissistic mastermind who can’t be defeated. “Those women were meant to go to some very eager buyers. They were disappointed that you robbed them of the opportunity to test the whores’ massage skills for themselves. You and the rest of those Blackchapel Bastards stuck your noses where they don’t belong, and now you and your little wife are going to pay.”
So, that’s what this is about.
It was a toss-up between me stealing his bride or those trafficked women.
After digging deeper, Rafe had figured out how the seemingly innocuous videos were basically sales pitches with unique hashtags and code words to alert potential buyers of each woman’s price. It was a disgusting twist to something Eden hadpreviously found comforting, and she hasn’t watched an ASMR video in weeks since learning the truth about some of the videos.
“Time to recoup what you stole. You’re going to fuck your chubby little wife on camera, then I’m going to sell her to the highest bidder before finally killing you.”
“That’s not going to happen,” I warn. My arm moves in front of Eden to gently scoot her behind me.
Fabian gestures to the men blocking the two basement exits—an exterior door and the staircase we came down—and every single hired thug pulls out a gun and turns it toward us. “Strip and fuck, or else I’ll do it. After all, yourButterflywas supposed to be mine in the first place.”
There’s a swift intake of breath from Eden as I contemplate our options.
Unfortunately, we have none.
Reading the seriousness in Fabian’s gaze, I twist to whisper in Eden’s ear while keeping the threat in front of us in view. “We’ll be okay. Mathias and the guys will figure out something is wrong. I won’t let anything happen to you, but we have to play along for now, okay?”
She nods shakily. Fear clouds her amber eyes, but she doesn’t let the tears I see welling around her lashes fall. I know she doesn’t consider herself particularly courageous after living the majority of her life sheltered by her parents, but I know the truth.
Eden is strong and courageous as fuck.
My hand soothes down her trembling spine. “Good girl,” I praise softly.
“Save it for the video, brother.” Fabian laughs. The rest of his men join in. All that’s missing are buckets of popcorn to complete the distorted scene of a crowd settling in for an entertaining movie.
And Eden and I are in the starring roles.
Sitting on a rolling metal stool, I maneuver Eden so her back is to the camera and gently press on her shoulders, indicating she should kneel. She quietly follows the instruction, staring up at me with trust shining in her pretty eyes.
