Traded (Blood Ties Book 5)

London’s aviators weren’t dark enough or big enough to hide the mess of my face. Nothing was, but they would help shield me from the scrutiny we were about to endure as the elevator doors to the Four Seasons foyer opened and the rush of voices spilled in.

I automatically turned my head to shield myself, until the soft brush against my arm stopped me. London adjusted his jacket before he placed his hand on the small of my back. In an instant, he changed. There was no hint of the smile he’d given me or the gleam of amusement that had been in his eyes when I’d snapped back at him. No, this wasn’t the private London, this was the cold, merciless male, the one no one would dare to cross. Not without consequences, at least…

As those who’d taken me were about to find out.

He met my gaze.

Raise your head, Vivienne. His words resounded in my head. I had no choice but to obey. Spine straight, hands by my sides, I stepped out to match his stride. Heads turned our way as we headed for the front doors. Men watched him with envy. Women glared at me with jealousy. I didn’t glance their way just walked through the open glass doors into the pitch-black night to the waiting Mercedes and climbed inside.

London hadn’t been joking when he said we were protected. A black Explorer idled in front of us and another waited at the rear. Not to mention that somewhere around here Colt and Carven watched every move we made.

Muffled voices drew my focus. I turned my head and watched London out the rear window as he rounded the car and climbed in the other side. A lion’s den, that’s what he’d called the place we were headed to. I could tell he was nervous as he stared straight ahead. That alone made me nervous too.

“Who are these people?” I asked as we pulled out and headed east.

“Someone you don’t want on your bad side” he answered carefully.

Dante, that’s who he’d said. I wondered how he fit into all this.

“What did Carven mean before…when he was pissed? He said, I’d better be worth it and he wasn’t talking about the money you paid for me either, was he?”

He didn’t look my way. “Nothing.” He shook his head, staring out the window. “He was out of line.”

“Out of line maybe, but he wasn’t lying. Not like you are now.”

Only then did he meet my stare. “This isn’t the time, Vivienne.”

There he was, chastising me like I was five. I wasn’t five. It was about time he started treating me like I was one of the team. “Fine.”

“Fine,” he repeated.

“But just so you know, this conversation isn’t over, not by a long shot. I will figure out the truth.”

His brow rose. “Will you?”

“Yeah,” I said, finding a little more defiance than I’d thought I was capable of.

“Then I’ll look forward to the challenge.”

A charge of excitement filled me, and the heat of desire followed. This, whatever this was between us, wasn’t over, not by a long shot.

Beep.

The sound of his phone ruined the moment. He held my gaze and reached into his pocket before he looked down.

“Problem?” I asked.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he answered as he typed and hit send. “When we get to this house, I want you to stay right by my side, Vivienne, and try not to…piss anyone off, okay?”

Jesus, he said it like I always rubbed people the wrong way. But his tone was deep and careful, because he was being careful. Who the hell were these people, anyway? The thought stayed with me as we rode in silence, allowing me to watch the city give way to houses until we took a turn and slowed.

Men leaned against beefed up Camaros and other sports cars and watched us as we passed. I stared back, taking in the glint of expensive watches around their wrists before I turned away. Quiet streets and neat houses gave way to more opulent playthings. Maseratis, Ferraris, and Lamborghinis sat parked out on the streets.

“Jesus,” I whispered, and lifted my gaze as the car slowed and turned into another quiet street.

A brown brick Tudor mansion sat at the end of the cul-de-sac with a gleaming black Bentley parked in the drive and an Audi behind it on the street.

Our driver slowed, then pulled into the driveway and stopped as three men stepped out, each carrying a semi-automatic weapon. Two moved in, but they didn’t open our doors and usher us inside. No, they extended a pole attached to a mirror to check under the car. Barely a few seconds later, the one in charge stepped toward the front and gave a nod, allowing our driver to get out and open London’s door.

“Stay close,” London murmured quietly to him. “You know what to do if this goes south.”

The driver glanced my way. “Yes, sir.”

What? I wanted to ask. What was he to do? Only I didn’t need the answer, did I? I saw it all in the way London, Colt, and Carven protected me. I knew if it went south, the driver would get me out first. For a second, I didn’t want to move, frozen by fear and apprehension, until I met London’s stare and he lifted his hand for mine. Trust drove me out of the car.

Trust and love. It was all I had now.

All I fought for…and all that fought for me.

Doors closed behind us with thuds. But I was already lifting my gaze to the opulent, ivy-covered home. Twisted black wrought iron grates covered the windows and doors. I took it all in, from the concrete path to the immaculate hedges of the garden filled with thick white gardenias that perfumed the air with the most beautiful scent. It was all so…beautiful. Beautiful and deadly.

Movement caught my eye from a window on the top floor. Soft sheer curtains moved as I followed London along the side of the house until I lost sight. More men with guns waited at the back. My pulse sped at the thought that if this went south, there was no way London could get us out of there alive.

I glanced his way but found that mask firmly in place as the back door of the house was opened by a guard. “He’s waiting in the sitting room. I trust you know the way?”

London gave a nod. “I do.”

His grip tightened around mine as he stepped through. The last thing I wanted was to remove the sunglasses, but the moment we stepped into what looked like a mudroom of the lethal kind, I felt the need for as much visibility as I could manage. Guns were fixed against the walls, a lot of guns.

My pulse beat louder at the sight before we left the room behind and headed along a wide hallway. Exposed dark brown slate and black iron were the common theme as we stepped into a massive room with a carpeted wooden staircase that swept upwards.

I lifted my gaze, my mind returning to the movement in the window above. But we’d moved along before I could dwell on whoever it might’ve been. Two men dressed in black suits stood in the middle of the hallway, watching us as we neared. One motioned for us to enter a room to the side.

The sitting room they called it? It may as well be a house inside a damn house. High, exposed-beam ceilings drew my gaze upwards. There was so much to take in, from the multiple bookshelves that towered higher than anyone could ever reach to the enormous lush rugs my heels sank into as I followed London inside.

“Dante,” he murmured beside me.

“London,” the husky growl came from a high-backed leather sofa in the middle of the room. “Nice of you to come.”

His stare fixed on us as we neared before he slowly rose, then stepped forward and reached out his hand. A lion’s den. That’s what London had called this place. If this was a den, then this man…Dante was the lion.

He was older, the same age as London maybe, but where my captor-turned-protector was cold, unemotional, and refined, this man was a barbarian. Battle-scars marred one side of his face, cutting through the eyebrow before ending with a jagged mess under his eye. Dante looked like a man who’d fought for everything he had…I looked around at the opulence of this place—which meant he’d won a lot of fights.

“I appreciate the invitation,” London lied beside me. “I’m sure the last thing you wanted was me taking up your time.”

The lion smiled. “Not at all.” But the smile never reached his eyes.

Instead, he swung that gaze my way, cutting right through me to scan the room behind us. It was as though he didn’t see me, like I totally didn’t exist. Maybe I didn’t to a man like him?

“The sons?” Dante asked, that scarred brow rising.

“Right behind us.” London answered, holding his stare.

The thud of footsteps rose before the low mutter of the bodyguards in the hall. Carven’s glare swept the room first before moving to Dante. But as he came closer, he flicked that menacing stare at me.

“Ah, here they are,” Dante nodded. “The boys said they’d noticed you around.”

London said nothing, leaving Dante to smile at the lack of response before waving to the doorway. “Silas.”

From the corner of the room came a man who was the spitting image of a younger Dante. One who was tattooed and scarred. He strode in wearing black jeans, a black t-shirt, and a stony stare that descended on Carven.

“I heard you’re moving into the Parker Street residence,” Dante said.

“Yes,” London answered. “Is that going to be a problem?”

I had no idea how it could be an issue. Surely someone living in their own house wasn’t against the law?

“Not a problem at all,” Dante responded, that dangerous gaze shifting my way before returning to London. “I just like to know what mess is landing on my doorstep, that’s all.”

I understood this play now. London’s safehouse was in this guy’s vicinity and so this was what? A reprimand…a warning?

“If you think your presence here is going to influence my standing or threaten my family, then we’re not going to be very neighborly, if you get what I mean?”

So this was a threat.

London stiffened and the room seemed to plunge in temperature, raising the hairs on the back of my neck. London inhaled hard. This was going to be bad…this was going to be—

“Dante!” The cry came from somewhere in the house, tearing through the sitting room to make the man in front of us take notice. His breathing deepened as his head turned toward the sound. In the blink of an eye, a woman came rushing into the room, her floor-length yellow dress billowing behind her and her eyes alight with satisfaction. “We got it! We got the VAN GO—”

Her eyes widened the moment she saw us. Her steps slowed as she glanced from London and the Sons back to the man who was obviously her husband. “I’m sorry.” She shook her head, her cheeks reddening. “I didn’t realize we had company.”

But Dante wasn’t angry at the interruption. Instead, his lips curled into a grin filled with pride as he chuckled and held his arm out to her. “It’s fine, honey. An informal chat is all.”

Another woman entered from same direction. Only, this one was quiet and careful, slinking into the room behind the woman who still beamed. But she looked nothing like the woman she followed. Maybe she was an assistant, or a niece? Someone close…but not blood.

The closer she came, the more clearly I saw her. She was my age, maybe a year or two younger. Long caramel-colored hair fell in soft waves. She was beautiful…stunningly beautiful. But she was also frightened.

She fixed her gaze on me. The longer she stared, the bolder that charge of panic grew.

My pulse thundered.

My world narrowed in on those faint green eyes and cautious stare.

I knew her somehow…

“I apologize anyway. I was just so excited,” I woman gushed. “I’ve been in a damn bidding war for the Skull and Cigarette for the past five years and we finally won.”

“Congratulations, Meredith,” London murmured, giving her his best grin. “That is quite a feat. Not even I would attempt something like that.”

But it was fake. It was all fake, wasn’t it? Everything but the threats. No, those were very real.

“Thank you.” She smoothed down her yellow dress, as her gaze moved to mine.

But I couldn’t look away from the woman at her side as Meredith stepped forward, cutting off my view. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

“My apologies.” Dante placed a protective arm around her waist. “Meredith, baby, this is London St. James.”

Her eyes widened before she caught herself, then glanced my way. “Nice to meet you,” she said carefully as she reached behind her protectively for the young woman’s hand. “My daughter, Angelica.”

Only then did it hit me.

I knew her…I fucking knew her.

I turned my head as London stepped forward and took her hand. My pulse was booming, my mind was screaming. There was something wrong here. Something very…very wrong.

He knew. I didn’t know how he did, but he turned and motioned Carven forward. “My sons, Carven and Colt.”

The moment Meredith’s focus was elsewhere, London looked my way. He saw it all, the catch in my breath and the way I was transfixed. Carven played the game as he came closer to step in front of London and shake her hand as Colt hovered closer to the doorway. If they noticed his reluctance, they didn’t say a word.

“Nice to meet you,” Carven muttered. “I’d introduce you to my brother, but he doesn’t speak.”

“Oh.” Meredith’s eyes widened. “Not at all?”

Carven shrugged. “Sometimes, he’s just very selective.”

She looked at London, then at me. “That’s strange.”

“Angelica.” Carven extended his hand. “I wasn’t aware you had a sister, Silas.”

“I don’t,” the tight-lipped son answered, his attention fixed elsewhere.

There was rage in his eyes and hate in his tone. Not once did he look at her, neither him nor Dante.

“Angelica is adopted,” Meredith added, her cheeks flushing red.

It hit me…adopted…adopted…just like Ryth.

London shifted closer, sliding his fingers along my arm, his touch whispering easy…

But my mind was racing, replaying every second of that hell called The Order. I knew I’d seen her…I was sure of it.

Meredith knew, too, her face paling as she took in the way London touched me before she turned to her husband and beamed. “Honey, I think I’ll leave you to it. Angel and I have a lot to prepare.”

Dante was oblivious to whatever had just happened. He’d hardly spoken since his ‘daughter’ had stepped into the room. Whatever went on with them, there was definitely no love lost between them, and suddenly I wanted to remember just where I knew her from.

But I didn’t have time to ask either of them before Meredith stretched up and kissed her husband on his cheek, then reached for her daughter’s hand and slipped toward the door.

While London stepped closer to Dante, I watched them. Before they disappeared through the doorway, Angelica turned her head and her gaze found mine. And with a careful shake of her head, she mouthed the word, Please…

London’s low chuckle spilled out. “You’ve got your hands full with that one.”

Dante grinned and shook his head as his focus moved to the paintings that adorned the sitting room walls. With a wave of his hand, he muttered. “A goddamn Van Gogh, London? The woman is going to send me broke by the time I’m forty.”

“I doubt that very much.” London shot me a cautioning glance, that intense stare had missed nothing. “It’ll sting a little, but for a smile like that, it’ll be worth it.”

I pulled away from the banter and glanced toward the door where the two women had left. Carven strode forward but left Colt behind. It was as though I didn’t exist, as though none of what just happened existed. I glanced at Colt. But he wasn’t there.

He was gone…

Disappearing without a sound.

That icy shiver raced along my spine as I turned back to the men, my mind racing. Why would London willingly step into the lion’s den and bring us with him?

What game were we playing here?

And what were the stakes?

I turned to that empty doorway as my belly sank.

Whatever they were…they weren’t good.