Page 134 of Bloodstained Wings

“Yes.” Isabella’s voice is low, breathless, and full of hunger. “I’m imagining myself pressed against the wall in your study, completely naked, while you stand behind me.”

I release a harsh breath. “I had no idea you were so good at this, dove. What other hidden talents do you have?”

Isabella lets out a low moan. “You could come over here and find out.”

I groan. “Don’t tempt me, dove. I want to bend you over and fuck you so badly.”

Before she can respond, the door to the dining room opens, and Paul emerges. I wheel around to face him and give him an angry look. A few more men linger in the background, all of them waiting for our next plan of action. With a frown, I stand up straighter and clear my throat.

“We’ll finish this later, dove. Enjoy yourself for me.”

Without waiting for a response, I hang up and shove the phone into my pocket. In silence, I motion for everyone to spread out, and they take up their usual spots around the dining room table. For the rest of the afternoon, we discuss one plan after the next, trying to find a way out of the labyrinth that’s been created.

Without someone feeding us information, I’m all too aware of our blind spots.

Because of our consistent barrage of attacks, the Philipses and Natoris have closed in on themselves and hunkered down. Every warehouse and every safehouse they have is now heavily guarded, leaving us with fewer areas to attack. A part of me races to find a solution and think of a way to draw them out.

Another part of me wonders if it might be time to broker a treaty.

Before disappearing, Paul’s inside man was convinced they were going to reach out to discuss the terms of surrender on the condition that we stop attacking them. Unfortunately, in the two days since, there’s been nothing but silence. They’ve even stopped going after my businesses directly.

I have no idea what they’re planning, but I know it can’t be good. How can it possibly be?

“Since they haven’t reached out to discuss a truce, we’re going to keep hitting them,” I announce, pausing to let my eyes sweep over the room. “We’re going to keep attacking for every Blackthorne man who has given his life for this war because those sons of bitches need to learn who they’re messing with.”

Blackthorne isn’t just a name. It’s a reputation, and I’m not going to rest till the streets of the city are soaked with their blood.

After reviewing a few more details, I gesture to Paul, who waits until everyone leaves. “We need to find fucking Donahue. Even if we manage to beat the Philipses and the Natoris, it won’t mean anything unless every last threat is taken care of.”

Paul nods. “Do you want me to increase the bounty?”

I shove my hands into my pockets. “Change the terms of the bounty. Make sure that every hitman out there knows that Rich Donahue is wanted dead or alive.”

***

Isabella

“I know you’re cheating.” I throw my cards onto the table and fold my arms over my chest. “I just haven’t figured out how you’re doing it. But I’m going to kick your ass when I find out.”

Tristan lifts the beer bottle up to his lips. “I’m not cheating, Isabella. You’ve got a terrible poker face.”

“I do not,” I insist with a shake of my head. “You’ve just had more practice.”

Tristan takes a long swig of his beer and sets it on the table between us. “I keep trying to teach you, but I don’t think going fish is your thing.”

“Maybe Texas hold ’em or something.”

Tristan snorts. “Are you trying to stroke my ego or something? Whatever you want, the answer is no.”

I push my chair back with a screech. “I honestly don’t know how Sam can stand to be around you. You’re a pain in the ass.”

“It’s exactly why she likes me,” Tristan replies with a quick grin. “Can you get me another bottle?”

I step into the kitchen and roll my eyes. After retrieving the bottle of beer from the fridge, I grab the pitcher of iced tea. Then I pour myself a generous amount and eye Tristan over the rim. He has his chair pushed back, his gun on the table, and is scrolling through his phone. From where I’m standing, I can see the security camera footage.

Tristan has everything set to maximum security. It doesn’t make me feel safer. If anything, it makes me feel more trapped.

“You could stop staring and ask me what you want to know,” Tristan says without looking up. “This is a state-of-the-art security system. Carter had it installed after the last time we were here. The barbed wire, too. It’s electric and programmed to render anyone useless.”

---