Volatile Love (The Gilded Sovereign 2)

“If I see one call to your friend—”

“Dad, you told me not to talk to Dahlia. I won’t talk to her.” My insistence must calm him down somewhat because he pulls my phone from his suit pants and hands it to me. I quickly reach for it, but the moment my fingers make contact, he tugs it, so I’m forced to meet his penetrative stare. “I promise.”

Those two words get me my phone, and I watch my father leave the room and head into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. I’m not stupid, he’s giving me space, testing me. But I’m not failing this time.

Once, when I was a little girl, he did that to me. Leaving me alone after giving me an order. I disobeyed. My ass smarted painfully from his belt for days. He knew what I was doing before I even did it.

This time, though, I’m older, wiser, and I’m not about to get myself into trouble before I can finish this job. I need to know who this Dimitri guy is. Perhaps I can call Etienne in the morning and tell him where I am. Or maybe I can get a message to Dahlia and let her know I’m okay.

I miss her.

I hope she misses me, too.

Curling myself on the cushions, I hold onto my phone and allow my eyes to close. I’m tired, and I know I won’t get any rest in the coming days.

“Get up!” My father’s irate tone comes from somewhere in my dreams, and I’m certain I’m about to be pummeled. Instead, my arm is tugged, and my body stumbles from the chair. My neck is pained as I’m brought to my feet abruptly, and when my eyes snap open, I’m met with my father’s glower.

“What’s—”

“We need to leave.” He’s adamant, but confusion clouds my mind, and the sleep that I was happily lost to is slowly clearing. “Get your shit,” he orders me in a commanding tone, pointing at the small backpack and my suitcase.

I’m still unsure of what’s happening when I’m dragged from the hotel suite, down the hallway and shoved into the elevator. Dad doesn’t say anything on the ride down to the garage, but the tension radiating off him is intense, sending awareness through me.

When he’s in this kind of mood, I know better than to speak. It’s early morning, and even though the sun hasn’t risen yet, the sky is taking on a soft pinkish-purple glow that lights up the horizon.

Once we’re in the car, the engine roars to life, and soon enough, dad is speeding through the narrowed streets of Amsterdam. I’m about to break the silence when I notice we’re headed away from the city and toward the airstrip where we landed only a few hours ago.

“Dad, what’s going on?”

“That little boyfriend of yours has fucked with my plans for the last time. Thankfully, Abner is still able to look out for us.”

My heart skyrockets at the mention of Etienne. He’s the only person I know who could have my father in such a state. “What do you mean?” Twisting in my seat, I pin my father with an inquisitive stare.

“Nothing you should worry about,” Dad responds, and I wonder just what the hell has happened. I know he won’t give me answers, but once we’re on the plane, maybe I’ll be able to get his phone. Whenever we fly, he plugs it into a charger in the bedroom while he works.

It doesn’t take long to reach the private airstrip, and Dad is out of the car, carrying our luggage before I have time to think this through. If I can get a second alone before we take off, I’ll be able to message Etienne. Or Dahlia. But the moment we board, I’m watched like a hawk. He doesn’t leave me to my own devices until we’re airborne, and there’s no WiFi signal anywhere on the flight.

“You can sleep, I’ll be working until we land,” Dad says.

I glance toward him, attempting to hide my smile because I know his phone is in the bedroom. I can shut the door and quickly get into the device. I won’t be able to see his emails, those are encrypted, but I know the messages will give me a hint as to what’s going on.

“Where are we going?”

He looks up from his laptop where he’s been typing furiously for the past ten minutes and gives me a dark smile.

“Tynewood, I thought you might want to see your friends again,” he tells me, but there’s nothing genuine about his words or his smile. No. Everything about him is sinister, and I’m afraid that something bad is about to happen.

Something very fucking bad.

9

Etienne

The moment we cross the threshold, I seek her out. I don’t see Fergus, and my body is tense with fear that he’s done something to her. Eyes land on me and Dad as we make our way into the large, dimly lit room. It’s an old building, warehouse-style, with nothing but a long conference table and about twenty chairs surrounding it.