Page 201 of Tempting Little Thief

I’m expecting a gang of guards to be standing around him, but it’s only him, his anger, a freshly pressed suit, and two black eyes?

He knows I’m following, and as soon as we’re out of ear and eyeshot, he turns with open arms and I readily throw myself into them, hugging him back as he does me, his chin pressing to the top of my head.

“You’re okay?” he whispers instantly.

I nod, pulling back. “You’re okay?” I worry, looking him over, but outside of a few red marks on his neck and the dark circles around his eyes, he looks unscathed, not exactly what I expected for a man who was kidnapped right in front of me.

He doesn’t answer, and suspicion slowly grows within me as I release him, taking a step back.

“Dad, what happened?”

No sooner than the last word leaves my lips, he’s gripping my wrist and tugging me down the hall toward the elevator, but we don’t make it three feet before Bastian’s clipped voice comes from behind.

“Bad fucking move.”

I turn, looking toward him and then my dad’s chest hits my back, his arm wrapping around me as he takes slow steps away. My eyes narrow, but Bastian isn’t looking at me.

His chin is low, nearly touching his chest, as he eyes my father through the thick sweeps of his dark lashes.

He stands careless and calm, though his expression is anything but. I tug from my father’s hold, my body pulled in the opposite direction on its own accord, and my dad’s grip flies to my arm, tightening.

I see the second something slips into Bastian’s mind. I don’t have time to panic before he’s flying this way. He has me released, spun and tucked behind him, my father by the throat and slammed against the wall before I can even breathe.

My dad’s lip curls, his own arm shooting out to wrap around Bastian’s neck just the same, but Bastian doesn’t fight him. He lifts his chin, the same way he did at the gala, speaking beyond the powerful grip threatening to close off his airways.

“From now on, your hands don’t touch her without permission. Keep it up, you won’t see her without permission. Fight me on this, you won’t see her at all,” he tells my father.

My heart beats heavily as I look between the two, shocked and confused at the apparent change in power.

My dad doesn’t respond, but it doesn’t seem he was expected to as Bastian lets him go and steps back, reaching behind to wrap his arm around my waist. He pulls me into his side.

My dad’s face is stone cold and unreadable as he stands silently in front of us.

Bastian reaches out, but my father doesn’t flinch as his long arm moves past him to press the button on the elevator door, and when it dings, almost instantly, there’s no argument from any of us as we all know any conversation that needs to be had cannot happen here. Bastian might trust these men, and Calvin may have some of that trust as well as part of the council, but our business is our own and nothing changes that.

Silently, we step into the elevator, the entire ride spent with the two men gauging one another. It’s not until we’re out in the parking lot all of us secretly canvas the area without being obvious about it. Watching for threats that might be hiding, both of them likely assuming the other has orchestrated some sort of attack against the other.

There’s no one there, not a single guard waiting for my father, only his vehicle parked in the red zone, just in front of the private entrance meant only for the elite. Why he would travel without security, considering everything that’s happened, I don’t know. Then again, he must know what our most trusted guard did to us.

My father walks toward his vehicle and we follow, pausing when he pivots, his focus on me.

“We are going home,” he announces.

“Agreed,” Bastian says next.

The moment my father reaches back, tugging open his passenger door, I know there’s going to be an issue.

“Let’s go,” he demands, stepping aside and sweeping his arm out expectantly. “There’s much for us to discuss.”

“Now that’s an understatement.” Bastian almost laughs, wrapping his arm around me. “We’ll be at the mansion at eight a.m., ready to …talk.”

My father holds my gaze. “You will come back now.”

A small frown builds along my brow, and I look up at Bastian as he cocks his head at my dad and says, “Make that nine.”

My father is doing all he can to control his rage, everything within him fighting against what’s happening here. Honestly, I’m surprised he hasn’t pulled a gun out and placed it to the temple of the man at my side. My muscles are stiff and waiting for it.

His eyes come back to mine, and he studies me for a long quiet moment as if he’s trying to decide if a few more hours away from his grasp will leave me in a worse state than he thought I was in. His nostrils flare, his chest rising with a full breath.

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