Page 63 of Stolen Hearts

After we shake hands again and both leave, I glance at my phone again to see a text.

Ares Drakos

Yo. Think you left your personal cell back home so texting you here. Sorry, had to run to another meeting. Cillian had one of your guys drop your Range Rover off. Parked outside.

I look over to see that my car has indeed been magically delivered to the curb outside of the meeting. I swivel my attention back to Ares’ texts.

Ares Drakos

Also, get a fuckin’ driver, dude. You gotta look the part now.

I roll my eyes as I get behind the wheel of my Range Rover. Yeah, no. King or not, I’m capable of adulting without having little underlings buzzing around driving me and cooking for me or washing my goddamn clothes, thank you very much.

I scroll down to the contact for Patrick—one of the guy’s I’ve got on front door guard duty back at the brownstone—and hit call.

“Hey, boss.”

“Everything look good over there?”

“Yeah, we’re clear. Cillian filled me in on the talk about this Massimo fuck. We’ve got our eyes peeled for when Mrs. James—”

“It’s still Ms. Drakos,” I grunt.

“Right. Sorry. Well, we’ll make sure she gets in okay when she gets back.”

I go still.

“Excuse me?”

“When she gets back to the brownstone.”

I almost crush the phone in my hand.

“She wentout?” I hiss.

“Uh, yeah.”

I see red as I start the car in a fury. He had implicit orders not to let her out of the house, dammit.

“Patrick, why in the ever-lovingfuckwould you let her do that?”

“Wait, what?” Patrick’s no idiot, but he sounds genuinely confused. “Castle, you said it was fine.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?! I told you not to let her go!”

“I know! But then you texted me like half an hour after you left!”

I squeeze my eyes shut and inhale deeply.

Callie texted him.

Frommyfucking phone.

I hang up, boot up the Find My app, and log into my account.

The map pops up, and there it is. Theresheis.

And sweet merciful fuck, she’s inhugefucking trouble now.

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