Stolen Love (Beauty in the Stolen 3)

He frowns at me when I open the door. “You should’ve been long gone by now. You’re taking a risk.”

“Thanks for the unwanted advice.” I grab my bag with the gun, slam the door shut, and move around him. “Where’s your car?”

He tilts his head toward the fire escape. “Come on.”

We go downstairs and exit through a side door. He glances around as he lets me into his car.

It doesn’t take long to drive to Damian’s building. It’s in Newtown, only a few blocks away on the revamped side of the city. We park underground.

“Did Damian get hold of Leon?” I ask when Russell comes around and opens my door.

Ushering me to the elevator, he says with an apologetic smile, “I was told to get you here safely, nothing more.”

“Do you work for Damian?”

He presses the button to call down the elevator. “I work for a company Damian uses.”

When the door opens, we get in and wait. As there are no buttons or controls, someone has to operate the elevator from inside. Damian really is a stickler for security, not that I blame him.

We exit in the familiar lobby with the statues and paintings on the top floor. Not so long ago, Ian and I used to live here. Back then, I thought I couldn’t let him in, but I’d been a fool. No matter what I do, I’ll never be able to cut him from my life. He’ll be a permanent part of me until the day I die.

Russell leads the way. The double doors of Damian’s office stand open.

A familiar voice says, “I could too. Could’ve hacked into your fancy elevator in ten seconds flat.”

Leon.

Russell goes in ahead of me. I stop inside the door. Damian is perched on the edge of his desk, his expression simultaneously shut off and annoyed. Leon stands facing him with his thumbs hooked into the loops of his waistband. Despite our history, I’m tempted to hug Leon. In a big city full of strangers, he’s someone I know, someone from a happy time in my life.

The contrast between the brothers is striking. While they look alike in features—they have the same dark hair, tanned skins, and brown eyes—their styles couldn’t be further apart. Damian is dressed in a black suit and white shirt. His silver tie is perfectly knotted. Not a hair is out of place. Leon is wearing jeans, a faded T-shirt, and a leather vest. His hair is tousled and wild. Damian wears a diamond tie pin and black diamond cufflinks while Leon wears leather bracelets and silver chains. Damian looks sophisticated. His older brother has a rougher appearance. Leon’s arms are bigger and his chest broader than what I remember. He must be working out. They’re the same height, but Leon is bulkier in the muscle department. The lines on Leon’s face give away his age. Damian has the same deep lines running from his nose to his mouth, a feature all three brothers share, but the crow’s feet in the corners of Damian’s eyes are less pronounced.

“I’d like to see you try,” Damian says with a scoff.

“I won’t have to try, brother.” Leon widens his stance. “Give me ten seconds and that elevator will be eating out of my hand.” He cocks his head. “I’ll give it a sexier female voice to answer in too.”

Damian dismisses Leon with an unamused chuckle. “Our guest of honor has arrived.”

Leon doesn’t turn immediately. Tension creeps into the set of his shoulders. He rolls them before facing me. “Cas, is that really you?”

“Hello, Leon.”

A battle wages in his dark eyes as he rakes a hand through his curls, ruffling up his hair even more. “I only found out a few days ago. Ian told me.”

Russell closes the doors.

I take a few steps forward, stopping midway in the large room. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

Where the amber flecks in Ian’s eyes give them warmth, the brown of Leon’s eyes is so dark they almost look black. It’s a bitter dark, like pure cacao.

“You’re sorry?” Leon says. “Ruben had no right to do what he did. He got what he deserved.” He walks to me, his footsteps echoing on the marble. “Ian, on the other hand, didn’t deserve what he went through.” He narrows his eyes, pinning me with a stare. “Do you have any idea what grief does to a man?”

Lifting my chin, I don’t back away. “Not that I owe you any explanations, but I believed Ian wanted me dead.”

“Oh, but you do.” He rests his hands on his hips and studies me from under his eyelashes. “What the fuck are we doing here?”

“Down, boy,” Damian says with a grin. “As much as I enjoy a fight, I’d like to get back to my wife and kids.”

“Leon is right,” I say, holding Leon’s glare. “You deserve to know why you’re here.” Breaking our eye contact, I look between the brothers. “We’re going to break Ian out.”