Page 68 of Thorns of Love
All these years, he saved the note. A shiver snaked down my spine as the memories of that night came rushing in.
The scent. The consumption. The words.
I should have never mistaken Adrian for Illias.
So many years were wasted. So many lives.
Adrian never wanted me. It was painful to realize it but it was the truth. The question remained why did he marry me. The clues he left behind were confusing. They just kept sending me in circles.
Maybe the chip that everyone wanted held the answers but I doubted those would ever be shared with me. I was left with no choice.
I’d drag it out of these men.
* * *
“Wake up.”
Isla swatted her arm and almost punched me in the face. That girl should be cut off from alcohol.
“Wake up,” I hissed. When her hand raised through the air I caught it, then slapped her gently on her cheek.
“What–” she jolted up and butted me in the forehead. I saw stars.
Both our whimpers vibrated between us. “Ouch.”
I rubbed my forehead as I blinked hard, chasing the stars away.
“What’s going on?” she mumbled, alcohol on her breath so heavy I was certain I’d get drunk from a little whiff. I should have cut her off after she switched from wine to hard liquor.
I handed her a pair of her own Uggs. “Put these on. We have to leave.”
She blinked her eyes. Then she blinked again. So I pulled on her. “Hurry up. Shit’s about to go down.”
“Where is Illias?” she asked, her eyes darting around the room as if she expected him to appear out of thin air.
“He’s handling the situation,” I whispered. Guilt swarmed me. I didn’t like lying to her but we had to get our butts out of here. Marchetti killed my husband, so he’d give me answers. And they better be good answers, or I’d kill him.
Still confused, she pulled on her Uggs and I took her cell from the nightstand and put it into my pocket. Thank fuck Lou & Grey had yoga pants with pockets.
Taking her hand into mine, I pulled her along and headed out of the bedroom. My heart thundered as we were sneaking through the hallways. Over the six weeks, I knew every camera and every blind spot.
My brothers didn’t raise no fool.
Left corner. Then the right corner. Secret, servant door. Thank God for those.
Ten minutes and we were in the garage. I headed for the Land Rover I designated for this little excursion. Opening the passenger door, I gently pushed Isla into the seat, then buckled her in.
“Stay here.”
She stopped me before I could shut the door. “What’s going on?”
I waved my head. “Just safety measures,” I assured her. “I’ll be right back. Close your eyes.” When it was clear she wouldn’t, I handed her the phone. “Check the weather.”
It was the first thing that came to mind. But I needed her eyes on anything but me. If she saw what I was about to do next, she might become suspicious. She did as I asked so I quickly shut the door.
I headed to the closest car. Another SUV. I popped the hood, cut the battery wires, then shut it. I moved on to the next SUV. And next. And next. Once all fifteen SUVs were non-functional, I eyed all the sports cars. There was no way they’d make it on the winter roads in Russia even if Illias was crazy enough to drive it in this weather.
“Nah, he’s not that crazy,” I muttered under my breath.
