Page 115 of Beauty and the Daddy

I run down hallways, past rooms where fat cats and their wives still sip champagne, oblivious to the war unfolding under their noses.

My shoes squeak against marble. My heart pounds so hard I hear it in my ears.

Belle. Sofia. The baby.

Christ, the baby.

My fist punches the nearest wall.

Pain ricochets up my arm, but I barely feel it.

Pain's an old friend. Fear is the stranger I never invited in.

"Boss!" Vito catches up, out of breath. "East wing's gone dark. Communications are down, and two men were found dead by the garden entrance."

Fuck.

"Are the cameras back on?"

"They've been disabled by an outside server, and we can't crack the code to bring them back on. Last feed shows Declan moving toward the residential suites."

Where Sofia is, and where Belle went.

"Get me every available man," I order, already running. "Meet me at the hideout suite."

My mind races faster than my feet.

Belle was supposed to be the bait, yeah, but with me controlling every angle.

With eyes on her at all times, and guards just out of sight, waiting for my signal.

But Declan always was the calculating one.

While I was playing chess, he was changing the goddamn board.

He must have known we were playing him, goddamn it. So, he never went to Belle's room.

I hit the landing where the family suites branch off and my heart does a trick I didn't know it could do—it forgets to beat.

The guards that should be posted outside her suite are sprawled on the floor, alive but out cold.

The door that should be locked stands open just enough to let dread crawl through.

I hear her before I see her. My daughter's voice, high and terrified.

Begging.

"Please don't hurt her, Uncle Declan! Please!"

I freeze, knowing I could kill Declan for this.

He's hurting Belle. Scarring Sofia for life.

I peek around the doorframe, just a fraction of a second.

It's enough.

The room's a snapshot from my worst nightmares.