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Instead of wasting time, I slapped Wentworth awake and ignored his babbles of terror as I picked up a hammer from a nearby table. I untied his arms and placed his right hand on the table.

It was his dominant hand—the one he used to shoot photos, and the one he’d used to touch Ayana. To grab her and hold her down while he tried to take what wasn’t his.

It was the hand he used to make her fucking cry.

Wentworth must’ve read the intentions scrawled across my face because his pleas reached a fever pitch. He wasn’t stupid enough to try and escape, but his cries only added to the icy rage tunneling through my veins.

I pictured Ayana’s tear-streaked face. Replayed the sounds of her sobs. Remembered the way she shook in my arms.

Crimson washed across my vision, and I let all that pent-up rageexplodeas I smashed the hammer onto Wentworth’s hand.

The sickening crunch of bone was so loud I heard it even over his inhuman screams.

I tossed the hammer aside and channeled the rest of my anger with my fists. Knives and guns were nice, but when it came to venting, nothing beat an old-fashioned pummeling.

Wentworth’s sobs fell on deaf ears. How many times had he ignored someone when they screamed for him to stop? It didn’t feel so fucking good when he was on the receiving end, did it?

Sweat coated my skin. My knuckles were bruised and battered from the beating, but I kept going until his wails faded and he passed out again.

Only then did I stop.

I stepped past his broken body and signaled for Sean to take care of him. The worst of my rage had abated, but a tint of red lingered in front of my eyes.

Wentworth had gotten off easy. I wanted to cut off his dick and make him choke on it, but that would’ve been too messy. So I left him with a bloody face, a shattered hand, and an unspoken warning never to go near or eventhinkabout Ayana again.

It went without saying that any attempt to tell people what happened today would not end well for him. Maybe Emmanuelle could connect the dots given the stunt I’d pulled in her office, but Wentworth’s fate was a subtle warning for her as well. She was smarter than him, and she’d keep her mouth shut.

By the time I left the warehouse, my breaths had calmed. Ayana would never know what I did. She didn’t need to; all she needed to know was that the problem was taken care of.

No onehurt her and got away with it.

Now that Wentworth was taken care of, my attention shifted to another loose end.

All signs pointed to Roman telling the truth about the Brotherhood’s civil war. He could be lying about the details, but I didn’t have the luxury of nitpicking when there was a target on my back.

He’d left his burner phone number for me before I kicked him out of my house for good the other day. I sent him a short but succinct message.

I’m in.

CHAPTER24

Ayana

I’d admit it—I chickened out.

I didn’t tell Sloane, Jordan,ormy agency about Wentworth. I’d had every intention of doing so, especially when I was convinced he’d turn around and try to paint me as the bad guy, but a week after the incident, he vanished into thin air.

He’d canceled all his bookings, leaving a swarm of angry editors and brands in his wake. He didn’t provide details, and he didn’t give people a way to contact him after he disconnected his phone and deleted his email account.

It’d been two weeks since the Sage Studios photoshoot, and no one knew where he was. Even if he tried to make a comeback, he’d pissed off so many powerful people who now had to scramble and find a new photographer at the last minute that his standing in the fashion world would never be the same.

Neither Hank nor Emmanuelle mentioned what happened at the shoot. Either they didn’t know, or they didn’t care. Both were plausible.

Whatever the case might’ve been, Wentworth’s disappearance rendered my initial plan moot. I’d already vented my feelings in the rage room, and I didn’t want to rehash the events with anyone else besides Vuk. It was too emotionally draining.

I had my suspicions about what—or ratherwho—caused Wentworth to vanish, but at the end of the day, it didn’t matter. I just wanted to put the incident behind me.

Luckily, I had plenty to distract me, including my upcoming wedding in three weeks and tonight’s gala at the Valhalla Club. I wasn’t a member, but Jordan was.