Craving The Wrong Brother (Sloane and Knox)

The words stop me cold. I press the phone closer to my ear, straining to hear something, anything, that might tell me this is some kind of joke.

"Who is this?" I ask.

"You really don't recognize my voice?"

There's something smug in his tone, something that makes my skin crawl. I know that voice. God, I know that voice. My chest starts to tighten, like someone's wrapping bands around my lungs and pulling them tighter with each breath.

No. No, no, no.

"Mateo?"

"Correct."

"You have my sister?"

"I do, like I said."

All this time, Knox and I had been so paranoid about watching our own backs, checking over our shoulders, making sure we were safe. We'd been so worried about protecting ourselves that we forgot we have family members in this city. Oh, that slimy bastard played us; I'll give him that. But what I won't give him is the satisfaction of hearing me squirm without solid proof he's telling the truth.

"Prove it." I force the words out, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice. "Show her to me. I want to see."

"Fine."

The line goes quiet for a moment, then my phone buzzes with a video call request. My thumb hovers over the screen. Part of me doesn't want to accept it, doesn't want to see whatever hell Mateo's about to show me. But I have to know. I have to see her.

I hit accept.

Mateo's face fills the screen first-that same arrogant expression I remember, made even more infuriating by those stupid designer sunglasses he's always wearing.

Then he flips the camera.

The image that appears makes my blood turn to ice. It's a basement; that's obvious. Masked men in all-black outfits stand in a line like they're posing for some twisted family photo.

But it's not the men I'm looking at.

The camera zooms in, and I see them. Hunter first-his usually perfect hair disheveled. Then Soraya. Finn's there too, slumped forward in his chair.

And then Serena.

Her face is pale and terrified, but when she sees the camera pointing at her, she lifts her chin in that stubborn way that's so familiar it makes my heart break.

They're all tied up. All of them. Like animals waiting for slaughter.

"Do you believe me now?" Mateo asks.

"You son of a bitch. Let them go!"

"Not without getting what I want."

"What do you want?"

"Simple. I want to speak to your boyfriend in the next hour. On this line. I'll call you. Don't bother trying to track or call this number; it won't work."

"Let them go!" I'm shouting now, not caring if Dad and Daphne can hear me through the door. "They have nothing to do with this!”

"Are you being stubborn, Sloane?" His voice is so calm, so conversational, like we're discussing the weather. "Your sister's life is in my hands. I'd strongly advise you to cooperate."

"If you touch a hair on her head-"

He cuts me off with a laugh. “Mm. I don't think you grasp the dynamics of our relationship right now. I'm the one making threats here, not you. So, let me give you a little demonstration of how serious I am."

Everything happens too fast after that.

A flash of movement. The dull thud of a silencer. A scream.

Serena.

She's convulsing in the chair, her whole body shaking as she screams through gritted teeth. There's a hole in her left thigh, dark red spreading across the pale skin like spilled wine. Mateo's gun is still pointed at her before he casually lowers

it.

I can't breathe. The room is spinning, and I think I might throw up.

"That was a clean shot," Mateo says. “Missed all the major blood vessels. She's got about an hour before it becomes a real problem-blood loss, shock you know how it goes. That's

when I'll call again. With one simple condition: get your boyfriend on the line."

He flips the camera back to his face. He's closer now, close enough that I can see

my own reflection in his sunglasses. I look like a ghost.

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"All you need to do, Sloane," he continues, "is cooperate. Don't be foolish. Don't call the police. Just exactly what I tell you to do. Because if you don't-if you try to be clever or heroic-the next buttet goes in your sister's head. Do we

understand each other?"

Serena's sobs echo in the background, growing weaker by the second. Then the

call ends, leaving me staring at a blank screen.

I'm already moving. My body is

operating on pure instinct now, adrenaline flooding my system. I aline know exactly what I'm going to do to Mateo when I find him. No courts, no lawyers, no appeals. Just me, a gun, and a perfect hole right in the middle of his forehead. But that comes later. Right now, I need to focus. Right now, I need to find out

where that call came from.

I throw the guest room door open so hard it slams against the wall with a bang

that echoes down the hallway. The sound should be enough to stop a freight train,

but Dad and Daphne are still going at it near the top of the stairs.

"Does anyone have a laptop?" I call out.

They keep barking at each other, paying me no mind.

"I said, does anyone have a fucking laptop?"

That gets their attention. Both of them freeze mid-sentence and turn to stare at

me like I've just materialized out of thin air. Dad's eyebrows pull together in that familiar expression of disapproval.

"Who do you think you're talking to in that tone?" he says, taking a step toward

me.

"Where is your laptop, Dad?"

He stares at me for a long moment, and I can see him trying to read my face. Whatever he sees there must tell him everything he needs to know, because his expression shifts from anger to concern in the space of a heartbeat.

"Is something wrong?" he asks, gentler now.

"I just need a laptop."

"I'll get it for you." He holds up a hand like he's trying to calm a spooked horse.noveldrama

“Just..... just take a breath, okay? Whatever this is, we can handle it."

I don't follow him when he disappears down the hallway toward the master

bedroom. My breaths are coming fast.

When Dad comes back, he's carrying his black Lenovo. He hands it to me, but his

fingers linger on mine for just a moment too long.

"Sloane," he says quietly, "tell me what's wrong."

I swipe under my eyes with the back of my hand, only then realizing that I'm crying. "What's the password, Dad?"

He hesitates, maybe debating whether to make me answer his question first. Then he sighs. "Daphne underscore Beau."

Of course it is. Any other day, I might laugh at the ridiculousness of it. But right now, I have things to do. I move, clutching the laptop against my chest as I race down the stairs two at a time.

"Is she leaving?" I hear Daphne ask behind me.

"I don't know," Dad answers, worry thick in his voice. "But something's definitely wrong."

I don't stop to explain. Don't even slow down at the bottom of the stairs. I grab the front door handle and yank it open, then turn back to face them one last time.

"It's best if you all stay in the house tonight," I say. "Lock the doors. Don't let anyone in."

Then I'm outside. I rush down to my car. Most of my guards are leaning against the car's body, but they straighten when they see me coming.

I have to make at least two of them stay behind and watch the house.

Before getting in, I grab my phone and dial Knox's number. It rings once, twice,

three times before he picks up.

"Bunny-"

I don't let him go further. In a voice I barely recognize, I say, "Meet me at your club

right now, Knox. That psycho has my sister."