Traded (Blood Ties Book 5)

He wasn’t going to let me go, was he? His hand gripped tighter as the car pulled over to the curb. I stared at the lights of the expensive restaurant. “I thought we were going home?”

“I’m going to need to make sure you’re fed well, pet.” His tone was dangerously erotic. “And I plan on making you nice and round. This place has the most delicious salmon you’ve ever had in your entire life.”

My pulse quickened at the thought. I’d hoped to go back home and make dinner for the four of us, but before I could say anything, he opened the door and pulled me with him. I followed, smiling at our driver before climbing the three stairs as London opened the door and ushered me inside.

The smells hit me instantly. My belly snarled in anticipation as London walked toward the host.

“London St. James,” he announced quietly as he glanced around the restaurant. “I’d like a table toward the back.”

But the host didn’t move. Instead, his eyes widened as he turned to some important looking guy in a black and white tux, who rushed over.

“Mr. St. James,” he murmured carefully, glancing around at the packed restaurant. “I’m afraid we’ve given your table away, sir.”

“You’ve given my table away,” London repeated, narrowing his gaze in on him. “Tell me, Jackson, why would that be?”

The guy was beyond flustered now, he was moving into full-blown panic territory. I reached for London’s arm. “It’s okay.”

“No. It’s not.”

That deadly stare seemed to grow colder as London leaned closer. “I’ve been coming here for a long time, Jackson. I’ve helped you and Xavier personally. I think I deserve an explanation.”

The guy was white as a goddamn sheet. “Mr. Hale…” he started before he gasped to a stop.

London stiffened as he took a breath. “You do not want me as an enemy,” he said carefully. “Especially not tonight.”

I didn’t know if the restaurant manager’s movement was a nod or he was just shaking. “The deluxe table toward the rear,” he ordered as he turned to the host. “Make sure, Mr. St. James gets everything he needs. Complimentary, of course.”

London eased back, tugging his jacket. This wasn’t the end, not by a long shot. London was collecting bodies tonight and he didn’t care who it was. He slid his hand around to the small of my back and led me away as we followed the poor, shaken host who led us toward the rear of the restaurant.

Heads turned toward us as we passed.

Critical stares picked me apart.

Head up, Vivienne…

London’s words echoed in my mind.

Always walk with your head up, watching everyone around you. It makes you less of a victim.

I lifted my chin, ignored the stares, and kept walking. London hadn’t just been overbearing, he’d been protecting me from moments just like this. Pride swelled inside me as I walked with the man other men envied and women lusted for.

He wasn’t anything like they imagined he was…he was so much more.

The host stopped at a table for four discreetly placed against the wall and carefully pulled out a chair for London. But he wouldn’t sit, not until I did. My bladder gave a twinge, those few glasses of champagne now suddenly a bad decision. I glanced around and spotted a discreet doorway with a ladies’ sign illuminated. “I’ll be right back.”

London scowled, glanced at the restroom, then nodded. “Of course.”

I left him, fighting the urge to quicken my steps as I hurried toward the restroom. I pushed in, raced for the stall, and fumbled with the damn lock before I shoved those sexy French panties down and sat.

“Jesus,” I whispered as relief hit me. “How the hell can I have a child when I have the smallest bladder in the world?”

I closed my eyes as I waited, grabbed a wad of paper before I wiped, then slowly rose and flushed. Sultry dark eyes met mine in the mirror as I washed my hands then dried them. “Just get this done and you’re home,” I whispered as I listened to the soft drone of the diners in the restaurant.

I gave a sigh and made my way out. My thoughts were distant, trying to block out everything around me as I headed back to our table…until movement caught my gaze. I lifted my head…and found my seat had been taken.

Ophelia sat across from London.

The sight stopped me instantly.

I stood in the middle of the hallway and watched her lean across the table to touch his hand. He flinched as those dark eyes darted to mine. Rage roared through me, deeper than anything I’d ever felt before.

I was cold…all the way to the core, as I forced myself to move. She didn’t lift her head, didn’t look my way. You’re in my seat, I wanted to say, but I doubted the ugly fucking cunt would even respond.

My gaze went to the jagged edge of the knife in front of her. I’d love nothing more than to drive it through her goddamn chest, but I wouldn’t find a heart. She was more than London’s former lover…she was the sons’ private tormentor, one determined to break them.

Colt’s haunted stare came back to me as I stepped past her, then turned, sliding onto London’s knee. “Ophelia,” I said coldly, staring down at the bitch. “I figured you’d be scurrying along with the rest of the rats…you know, fleeing the sinking ship.”

My anger was in control, making me feel dangerous.

It wasn’t London she needed to be wary of…it was me.

Only then did she lift that cold stare, to find the choker around my neck. I’d forgotten all about it, but now the importance of it came rushing back to me.

“Nice to see you put this one on a leash, London.”

Fuck you.

I couldn’t stop myself as I gripped the edge of the table and leaned close enough that she had no choice but to look me in the eyes as I murmured, “And a baby in my belly, you ugly bitch.” I sneered down at her. “Which is something you’ll never have.”

Rage drove to the surface in that cruel stare. There was a slow twitch of her lips before she glanced back at London, but I didn’t dare take my eyes off her. Instead, I stared her down, watching as she desperately sought my lover’s attention.

But he didn’t give it to her. Instead, he ran his hand along my arm and leaned forward. “Ophelia, it’s been a pleasure, as always.” He dismissed her like the afterthought she was.

She waited for a second as pain tore across her face, then she pushed upwards.

“Bye-bye now,” I growled as I watched her turn and stride away.

My pulse was pounding, making me feel dizzy. I gripped the table edge tightly, no way was I letting that sick fuck get the better of me. But I was well beyond being on fucking display. “I want to go home, London. Now.”

His thumb brushed my hand. “Whatever you want, pet.”

I gave a nod and slowly rose.

The lights and the sounds of the restaurant were too much. I stepped away and held out my hand. London was there instantly, sliding his fingers between mine. “Easy, kitten. I’ll get you home.”

It couldn’t be fast enough.

The moment we took a step, a man sitting at a table near ours called out. “London.” He placed his napkin down and extended his hand, smiling. “I thought that was you.”

Only, his gaze was on me and took its time taking in my body.

Suddenly, the floor-length black gown wasn’t protection enough, not from these people…or this world. I fought a shiver and glanced toward the entrance as Ophelia walked through the door and disappeared.

“Angus.” London shook his hand and shot a glance my way. “Nice to see you.”

“I was hoping I’d run into you. I was wondering if I could have your opinion—”

The conversation started before London lifted his hand. “You’ll have to excuse me. It seems the night got away from us. Maybe another time.”

August flinched. It looked like he wasn’t used to being cut off, but luckily London didn’t give a fuck.

“Vivienne.” He motioned. “Until next time, Angus.”

“Sure,” the guy muttered, staring as we walked away.

“Goddamn,” London murmured under his breath.

We made another three tables before it happened again. It seemed you were either fighting for your life in this fucking city, or fighting to beat the leeches off with a stick.

London unleashed a low growl before shaking the guy’s hand who rose and stepped toward us this time. A panicked glance my way and London mouthed, sorry. I glanced toward the door and scanned the front of the restaurant outside as London tried his best to get away.

By the time he grabbed my hand and muttered low enough for only me to hear, “Walk and don’t stop,” it’d been ten to fifteen minutes and I couldn’t wait to get out of there.

I all but lunged down the stairs, not bothering to wait for London to open the door. My hands were shaking as I shoved the handle and stumbled outside. The cold air rushed in as I sucked in a deep breath and spotted the familiar dark Explorer. The driver’s door opened and for a fleeting second, I thought it was Carven.

Colt strode toward me with two of our men close behind.

An icy chill washed through me as a whisper urged me to turn my head.

In the distance, Ophelia watched, before she turned and slowly strode away.

The shrill sound of squealing tires pierced the night.

London jerked his gaze toward the sound as what looked like a beat-up blue van hurtled toward us and the side door was thrown open. Two men were dark shadows inside until I caught the flash of something metal.

“GET DOWN!” London roared.

Something hit me, driving me toward the pavement.

Crack

Crack.

CRACK!

CRACKCRACKCRACKCRACK…

Gunfire followed…and it didn’t stop.

I didn’t dare lift my head, too terrified I’d find the end racing toward us.

All I could do was slam my hands over my ears and scream.