Page 30 of Corrupted Queen

So it’s not Clara. Then what? Who?

I curse myself for not assigning more security to Alexis. I should know better than to think she can go anywhere without attracting trouble.

I wonder if this has anything to do with the Irish rebels. If it does, I am going to kill that man in the basement myself, Patrick Walsh and our alliance be damned. He has not dealt with this as expediently as he should have, and I will need to see results from him soon or he’ll be the next person I acquaint with my cellar.

I stomp on the gas, flying through the city at lightning speed, which earns me several angry honks from other cars. I don’t care. I need to get to Alexis, make sure she’s okay. What if I lose her again? This time permanently?

I can’t bear the thought.

I screech to a stop behind the town car parked outside Clara’s apartment. The sidewalk is a swarm of activity. Dom’s men have already converged on the building, and it appears the commotion has attracted a crowd of onlookers. Dom’s men have acted quickly. I just hope it is quick enough.

Glancing at the front entrance, I see two men kicking through the door and my heart sinks. They aren’t inside yet. Alexis could still be in danger.

I get out of the car and pull the nearest man over to me to report. “What happened?” I bark. “And where’s Alexis?”

My eyes scan the crowd, but I can’t see her anywhere.

“We haven’t made it inside yet,” the soldier explains. “Someone jumped. Or fell. We don’t know. Everything is utter chaos and we—”

Bile rises in my throat. “Who?” I demand, cutting him off. When he doesn’t answer immediately, I shake him and ask again. “Who jumped?”

Please, not Alexis.Please,not Alexis.

A thousand scenarios flash through my mind, each one with the same grisly end. Alexis being pushed through the window by a faceless stranger. Or by Clara. Alexis jumping as a last resort to escape whatever pursued her in that apartment. Alexis’ cold dead eyes, staring up at the sky as a pool of blood halos her head.

I can’t breathe. My fingers tighten on the soldier’s arm and he lets out a squeak of pain.

“Some guy,” the soldier says, blinking in fear. “Dom thinks he might be Irish.”

Relief balloons in my chest and I let the soldier go. Alexis didn’t jump. That means she’s inside somewhere, and I need to get to her.

A loud bang rips through the air and the assembled onlookers gasp and whisper amongst themselves. The front door is open. The two soldiers draw their guns and are about to enter when I race over to them.

“Behind me,” I order, striding between them and then racing up the stairs, gun drawn.

We reach Clara’s door and I kick it open, sending it cracking back on its hinges. Two terrified sets of eyes snap to the doorway and Clara lets out a little scream.

“Put the gun away,” Alexis hisses, her arms wrapped around her quivering friend. They are sitting on the ground, and Clara has her knees pulled up to her chest. Behind them I see the shattered frame of glass overlooking the street.

Alexis is safe. She’ssafe. I shove my gun back in its holster and let out a sigh of relief as my men scout the room for potential hostiles.

“He was going to kill you,” Clara whines, a sob wracking through her. “I didn’t mean to ... I only wanted to …”

I approach the girls, noting with a level of disgust the sorry state of Clara’s apartment. It stinks of stale beer and filth, and every available surface is covered in empty booze containers and garbage. My men never told me it was this bad.

I squat down just as the tiny blonde starts to hyperventilate. Alexis leans over her, running her hand down Clara’s back and whispering in a soothing voice. “You did what you needed to do. It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“What happened?” I ask.

Alexis looks up at me, and I take the opportunity to inspect her for signs of damage. Her face is unblemished, though her hair is messy and her red-rimmed eyes dart around the room. She is trying to be calm for her friend, but Alexis is rattled.

“Clara’s boyfriend, Killian.” Alexis licks her lip, taking a deep breath. “He, uh, he tried to hurt me. Clara pushed him and …” She glances toward the window.

I deduce the rest on my own.

“Come on,” I say, closing my fingers around one of Clara’s tiny hands. “I’m taking you both back to the mansion with me.”

Clara shakes her head. “No, no. They’ll be looking for me.”

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