Page 143 of Alpha-Ex Wedding Ruse
“And Victor?”
He pursed his lips. “Now that’s someone I haven’t been able to pin down. Last time he was seen was at seven last night, leaving his apartment building. He hasn’t been home since.”
My forehead creased, suspicion building in me. “Where the hell is he?”
“No idea,” Charles replied. “His phone is switched off, and the last ping traced it back to his house. Which means he’s out without his phone.”
“He wouldn’t just go out without his phone,” I said.
“Exactly.”
Just then, my phone began to ring—an unknown caller.
“Stay on this, Charles. Do not stop until you figure out where the hell my brother went.”
“Got it.”
I stepped out onto the veranda and hit the answer button.
“Hello, brother,” Victor’s voice drawled through the receiver, dripping smugness and menace.
Rage shot through me, hot and fast, but I forced my mind to stay cold. I hit mute, flicked my fingers toward Charles, and ordered in a low tone, “Trace it. Now.” I unmuted the call.
“I imagine you’re going crazy right now, wondering where your son and Mate are?”
My spine locked. Leila? I’d only just spoken to her forty minutes ago, right before I questioned that fraud of an informant. And she’d been home. Was he bluffing?
I had Charles quickly dial Leila’s phone, and it was switched off. A cold rush shot through my veins, tightening my chest until I could barely breathe.
“Victor,” I snarled, my voice low and dangerous, “if you’ve laid so much as a finger on her—”
“Oh, spare me the threats, brother. You’re in no position for them…not when I have your son and your Mate.”
My pulse roared in my ears.
“If you touch them,” The growl in my throat nearly drowned out the words, “I will burn down every safehouse you’ve ever hidden in, scatter your ashes, and make sure history forgets you ever existed.”
He tsked, mocking. “What did I just say about threats?”
A gunshot cracked through the line. My blood iced over. Then came it—the terrified screams of Ollie and Leila.
“What do you want?” I snarled.
“Simple,” he chuckled. “Sign over the position of CEO of Vaughn Industries to me. And call a press conference, announce you’re stepping down as Alpha of Manhattan Pack…and naming me as your successor.”
“I don’t have that kind of power. The council decides.”
“Oh, but you do. And you’ll use it…or the next sound you hear will be your son begging while I cut off his fingers.”
“I swear to God, I will bury you alive, Victor. You’ll regret the day you were brought onto this earth.”
He laughed, the sound bitter and taunting. “Thirty minutes, brother.” Then the line went dead.
I turned to Charles. “Got a location?”
He shook his head. “Burner phone.”
“Shit!” My fists slammed into the wall, leaving a deep crater.
