Rule's Seduction (The House of Rule 4)

But before he had a chance to question her, Garrett exploded. “What the fuck do you mean ‘he has her’?”

Damian quickly explained what he knew. “He purposely trailed her during her trip to Vegas—I’m guessing the motherfucker got her drunk, because somehow, he tricked her into marrying him.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Garrett slowly enunciated through clenched teeth.

Damian cracked his knuckles, feeling a new wave of rage wash over him when he thought about Villarreal holding their sister. “No, I’m not shitting you.”

Still standing behind Maria, Garrett’s legs braced apart and he suddenly looked ready to attack. “Well, what the fuck are we waiting for? Can we find her? Her phone has GPS—unless he’s taken it from her?”

Damian shook his head. “It’s not going to be as simple as that.”

Garrett’s mouth flattened. “Why not? Is she safe for the moment at least? Have you spoken to her?”

Damian crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes, I’ve spoken to her and she seems to be safe, but she’s pretending—goddammit—like it’s love or something.”

Garrett’s eyes narrowed. “Why would she pretend?”

“I don’t know but it was more than obvious that she was saying what she felt forced to say,” Damian answered.

“So, it’s coercion at the very least,” Garrett said between gritted teeth. “Is he holding her for ransom? What the hell could he possibly want?”

Nick broke in, his impatience obvious to see. “You tell us, Garrett. You know the fucker better than we do. What the hell did you do to piss him off?”

A look of fury lit Garrett’s eyes as he swung in Nick’s direction. “Me? Why the fuck is this my goddamn fault?”

Damian butted in before all hell broke loose. “It’s not your fault, Garrett, but we need to know why the bastard has it out for us—”

His words broke off as Maria interjected in a shaky voice. “It’s my fault.”

Garrett froze, his hands tightening on the girl. “It’s not your fault—you have nothing to do with Villarreal’s hatred.”

Damian watched as she closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them again. “Maybe not.” She swiveled in Garrett’s arms until she was facing him. “But remember the last time he came to the hotel? It was right before you walked into the office—the guy was pumping me for information but I was so agitated that I didn’t realize it at the time. And I let it slip—” Her voice trailed off.

Garrett lifted her chin with a gentle finger and asked, “Let what slip, baby?”

She bit her lip and her face crumpled as she said, “That y’all have a sister.”

As Garrett comforted Maria, Damian took the opportunity to glance at Nick and they shared a moment of silent communication. There was no question that Maria wasn’t to blame, but with the information she’d given them it became damn well obvious: Villarreal had been planning to take Erin since the moment he’d found out about her existence.

So, now the question was, why?

Damian knew they had to get the ball rolling. They had two things to accomplish—they had to keep the family safe and they had to get Erin back home in one piece. Not wasting any more time, he picked up the phone and dialed his head of security.

****

When Erin woke up the next morning, she couldn’t tell if Max had slept beside her or not. She’d tossed and turned and she remembered looking at the bedside clock several times. She knew at two o’clock he hadn’t been in bed. And now it was eight and if he’d come into the room in the middle of the night, then he’d already vacated his place beside her. Evidently, he needed very little sleep—something that Erin couldn’t understand. If she didn’t get a full eight hours, she was practically worthless the following day.

As she jumped in the shower, she thought back to the previous evening. Supper had been a quiet, somber affair. It had been just the two of them, and Marisol had served the meal in the formal dining room, although she had put Erin’s place setting directly to Max’s right.

The meal had been served late, as was the custom, and all Erin had been able to think about was the disappearing day—and the night to come. Max had been almost silent throughout the meal, but she’d felt his eyes on her relentlessly. She’d barely been able to eat and he’d noticed, frowning at her plate.

As the minutes had ticked by, her anxiety level had risen.

Thankfully, he’d retreated to his office once the meal had been finished, but not before giving her a molten look that had promised future intimacy—no wonder she’d tossed and turned before falling into a fitful sleep.

Now, after finishing a late breakfast alone in the atrium, she entered the room that Max had given her the previous day and looked around. It wasn’t exactly what she wanted, but it was better than nothing.