Page 74 of Bloodstained Wings
I’m well aware of what’s at stake when it comes to Mayor Hughes.
And all too aware of how important it is for me to put on a calm and unaffected demeanor, to make sure the prick doesn’t know how badly he’s rattled us.
Or how badly I want to put his face through a wall.
All I need is to get close enough, and I’ll teach Killian Hughes that there is a price to be paid for crossing a man like me. For now, though, I need to put on a smile and my best suit and pretend like nothing bothers me. Straightening my back, I hold my arm out to Isabella, who tucks her hand into my elbow and allows me to lead her down the stairs and into the elevator. She earns a few cursory glances on her way past, and I level all of them with a pointed look.
Anyone who looks at her ends up cowering in a corner.
I smirk and lead her down the stairs of the building and into the black SUV parked next to the curb. Ernesto is wearing a suit and looking very pleased with himself as we get into the car. When he pulls away from the curb, Isabella settles into my side and brings her head to rest against my chest, over the hammering of my heart.
With a frown, I wrap my arm around her shoulders and exhale. “There’s nothing to be nervous about, dove. We’ve been to galas before.”
Isabella snorts. “And we don’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to them.”
I plunge my fingers through her hair and massage her scalp. “Yes, but our dear old mayor isn’t going to come after me in public. Not if he wants to make sure none of this leads back to him.”
Isabella leans back to look at me, and a furrow appears between her brows. “You sound awfully sure. Is there something I should know?”
One hand falls from her waist down to her ass, and I squeeze. “It’s nothing to trouble yourself with, dove. Try and have a good time tonight.”
Isabella gives me a dubious look and settles back into my side. I play with her hair for a while longer and ignore the molten hot desire racing through me. When Ernesto pulls up outside the hotel where the gala is being held, reporters are lined up on either side of the red carpet, being held back by a team of uniformed security men and women.
Cameras click away steadily, and there’s already a loud cacophony of voices, barely muted beyond the car’s windows. I glance over at Isabella, who has squared her shoulders and lifted her chin like a soldier headed to war. I bring her hand up to my lips and press a kiss there. She gives me a pleading look, and I’m tempted to oblige.
Circling the block a few times can’t hurt.
As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I spot Tristan and Paul standing side by side in their crisp dark suits and wearing identical tight expressions. With a growl, I get out of the car and hold my hand out to Isabella. Immediately, the cameras shift toward us, and I feel her resist the urge to shrink into my side. We glide down the red carpet and are stopped in the doorway. I glance over my shoulders at Tristan and the others, and they hurry over to us.
Suddenly, we’re being led away through a side door, with a few of the same uniformed men and women I saw earlier forming a half-circle around us. We earn a few curious looks, and I grip Isabella’s hand tighter. She laces her fingers through mine and doesn’t say a word. Tristan and Paul are on either side of us, studying the path that we’re taking.
After taking a series of twists and turns, we are brought to a stop outside a large empty room with chairs piled up on either side of us. Without warning, we are shoved in, and I swivel around, the gun already in my hand, only to find the door slammed shut in my face. Tristan and I launch ourselves at the door, but it won’t budge. Paul murmurs something to Isabella, but I can barely hear anything above the dull roaring in my ears.
What the fuck now?
Can’t we have one fucking night to ourselves?
I take a few steps back and turn to face Isabella. “I’m going to get us out of here, dove. This is just our new friend trying to flex and show us how powerful he is.”
Even from a distance, Hughes is a threat.
I want to wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze until his eyes bulge and he loses the color in his face. When I get out of here, I’m going to make it my personal mission to hunt him down and teach him the meaning of the Blackthorne name.
Tristan and Paul try the other doors in the room while I hold Bella to me and rub her arms. She is shivering and hasn’t said a word since we left the car. By the time I get her to calm down, the doors to the room fly open, and a few stern-looking men step in, all of them with broad shoulders, muscles, and guns tucked into the waist of their pants.
I step in front of Isabella and point a finger at the guy in the center. “Has the mayor sent us another gift already? I’m flattered that he thinks so highly of me.”
The bald-headed man I’m facing tilts his head to the side and raises an eyebrow. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Mr. Blackthorne, but I can’t say I’m impressed. It’s quite a mess you’ve made for yourself and all because of her.”
I let out a warning growl. “I’d watch the next words that come out of your mouth if I were you.”
“The Natoris were right,” he continues, as if he hasn’t heard me. “The city is ripe for the taking but not without a little assurance first.”
“You take one more step, and it’ll be your last.” I point my gun directly at him and level him with a pointed look. “It’s a shame to ruin these expensive shoes, but it’s a price I’m willing to pay.”
The man nods, and the doors behind us burst open, allowing a few more men in. I wheel around to reach for Isabella, but she’s snatched away from me and held at gunpoint. Another man holds a knife up to her long, slender neck, and her eyes grow wide as saucers.
The bald-headed man takes a step forward and shoves a hand into his pocket. “Let’s try this again, Blackthorne, because I don’t think you understood me the first time. You’re going to give us all your contacts and all the information that you’ve gathered over the years.”