Page 64 of Hide Little Traitor

Ten years of distance wasn’t enough to permanently erase her from my heart. I can’t see a few days helping, but it’s worth a shot.

Ryker’s amber eyes turn wild with every shitty thing I say about Chloe, and before I get a chance to insult her again, he lands a punch to my gut, stealing the air straight from my lungs.

Thankfully he misses the bruised ribs I already have, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt like a son of a bitch.

“Shut your filthy fucking mouth. Believe me when I say you don’t want to die at my hands,” he grinds out.

“You think I’m afraid of a little torture?” I spit.

He smirks. “What I do to my victims isn’t torture, Lombardi. It’s fucking art. Do you know what a delicate balancing act it is to keep someone in excruciating pain for weeks without letting them bleed out or letting infection riddle their bodies? It took years of practice, but I think for you I could drag it out for months as punishment for everything you’ve put Chloe through.”

Every word out of his mouth is a promise, and I haven’t survived this long in a crime family without being able to identify when someone is a genuine threat to my life.

Who the fuck is this guy?

Kingston carefully hands a trembling Chloe off to Ronan and steps forward, keeping enough distance that he won’t get caught in the crossfire.

“Ry, you’re scaring Chloe,” he says carefully, like he’s speaking to a wild animal rather than an employee.

“Yeah, Ry,” I taunt. “You’re scaring the little traitor.”

His pupils dilate to the point his irises are nothing more than a golden ring as he produces a knife from his pocket.

I can usually pull my gun pretty quickly, but between the bruised ribs and a fresh gunshot wound, I don’t feel so confident.

“Damon, do you know what Ryker does for me?” Kingston asks but doesn’t bother waiting for a response. “He kills people. Shitty people that deserve to die in the most horrendous ways. Serial killers. Rapists. The worst of the worst.” His words are calm, but he never tears his eyes off Ryker. “None of his victims have ever been found, but you’ll have to take my word for how thoroughly he makes them pay for their sins. And that’s for people he doesn’t care about. I’m sure by now you’ve noticed that Ryker doesn’t feel like normal people, but Chloe is the exception to that rule. What do you think he’ll do to you if you hurt the only person he actually cares about?”

I glance over his shoulder at Chloe, whose eyes are wide, but she’s not afraid of the picture he’s painting.

I’ve heard rumblings of a company that does mostly not-for-profit private investigations that always lead to the disappearance of the suspects, but it’s never been on my radar to investigate.

My brother doesn’t seem any more surprised by the revelations than she is, which means they’ve likely had this conversation already.

Nice to be left out of the loop while in the presence of a serial killer.

The new information is going to make my plan harder to execute because it means killing them both to ensure they don’t spend the rest of their lives hunting me.

But it will be worth it once I take the reins of the family.

The position I was born for and have already waited too fucking long to take.

“Whatever,” I snap as I shove myself to my feet and storm toward the back door, ice-cold wind slamming into me the second I’m outside.

The sooner I’m back in Miami, the better.

I fucking hate the cold.

CHAPTER FORTY

CHLOE

NOW

Iexcuse myself into the room Ryker dropped my bag in, closing the door behind me and allowing myself to take deep, calming breaths.

I’m exhausted.

Today has been…emotional and terrifying. A wild fucking ride from start to finish.