Page 91 of Chained By Fate (Dark Billionaires: Vegas #1)

Thirty-Seven

ANDY

P acing the guest room like a caged animal was the only thing keeping me from completely losing it. Three days. Mia had been with that monster for three days—what felt like two centuries of sickening scenarios playing through my mind on repeat.

My stomach lurched again and I bolted to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet. Nothing came up. I slumped against the cool tile wall, pressing my forehead against it.

“Mia,” I whispered. “Please be okay. Please still be my fierce big sister who’d kick my ass for worrying this much.”

Sleep had been a stranger these past forty-eight hours. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Herbert… and the things he could be doing to Mia. The same things he’d done to me, but worse, because this was Mia . My protector. My rock.

My phone buzzed. Fin.

Any news?

My fingers trembled as I typed back: Nothing. I’m going insane here.

The reply was instant: Want me to come over? I can borrow Ethan’s car.

Despite everything, I almost smiled. You’d never make it. You’d either end up in a ditch or get arrested. Or both.

Hey! I’ve gotten better! Only hit ONE curb this week.

That’s because Ethan won’t let you drive anymore after you nearly took out that palm tree at The Maxwell.

Details, details. Stop deflecting. How are you holding up?

I swallowed hard. I’m not.

She’s tough.

I know. But Herbert…

Don’t go there. Focus on the fact that your scary billionaire boyfriend and his equally terrifying friends are going to rain hell on that bastard.

This time I did smile, though it was watery. When did you get so wise?

Probably around the same time you started dating a hotel mogul. Speaking of which, tell Matt if he doesn’t bring both you AND Mia back safe, I’m coming for him. I may not be able to drive, but I fight dirty.

Before I could reply, a knock at the door made me jump. Bruno’s deep voice carried through the wood. “They’ve got a lead.”

I was down those stairs like my feet were on fire, nearly bowling Tyrone over in my rush. The mansion’s grand foyer buzzed with activity—James barking orders into his phone, Matt checking what looked like a small arsenal, their security teams moving with practiced efficiency.

“William.” James’ voice cut through the chaos. “Stay here in case shit hits the fan.”

William nodded. “Sure. Just call when you want backup.” He actually chuckled. “Though, I doubt it.”

“What’s happening?” I demanded, making Matt turn. “Tell me you found her.”

“Cole tracked down Sophie,” Matt explained, his eyes studying my face.

I was told that Cole was Matt’s best tracker, a man who could find a needle in a haystack while the haystack was moving. If anyone could locate Mia, it would be him.

“She’s heading toward South Los Angeles. Where she goes?—”

“Herbert goes,” I finished, my heart trying to punch its way out of my chest. “I’m coming with you.”

“No.” Matt’s voice was firm. “You’re not.”

“Oh, that’s adorable that you think you can stop me.

” I stepped closer, tilting my chin up. “As if I’m going to sit here munching on caviar while my sister could be…

” I ran a shaking hand through my hair. “It’s Herbert fucking Weston.

Do you have any idea what that monster is capable of?

Because I do, and I won’t let Mia face that alone. Not again. Never again.”

Matt glanced at James, who was too busy barking orders to do more than throw a brief, sharp nod in our direction. Finally, Matt’s shoulders dropped slightly. “Fine. But you stay safe and don’t intervene. I don’t want Herbert seeing you and suddenly wanting to do all sorts of shit to you again.”

“I promise to be a good little damsel and stay out of the way,” I said, trying to mask my trembling hands with sarcasm.

Neither Matt nor James looked convinced, but I didn’t care. My sister needed me, and this time, I wouldn’t let her face Herbert alone.

The drive felt endless. I sat in the back of Eric’s car, legs jittering, while Matt communicated in grunts and one-word answers to James and his team over the phone. Every street sign we passed made my heart race faster. South Los Angeles. We were getting closer to Mia. Closer to Herbert.

Less than twenty-four hours ago, we’d learned the whole sordid story—how Sophie Wilson had been James’ daughter’s nanny until last week.

She’d been fired for inappropriate behavior, her pride wounded when James caught her trying to seduce him.

When she somehow connected with Herbert, she saw her chance for revenge.

The perfect storm of vindictiveness and depravity, using my sister as a pawn in her twisted game of retribution.

My hands squeezed into fists so tight, my nails might as well have been digging for oil. The dread I felt had shape and weight—it pressed against my ribs, choked at my throat.

“Chesterfield Square,” Cole’s voice crackled through the speaker. “An abandoned warehouse.”

My stomach twisted. Of course it would be an abandoned warehouse. Because apparently, Herbert had graduated from being just a monster to becoming a full-blown villain from a crime show.

When we finally pulled up to the place, the sight of it—well, it was the kind of place nightmares took notes from. The building loomed like a mouth ready to swallow us whole, desolated and forgotten by any decent human being. Just like his cabin in the woods back home, where he’d…

No. Focus on Mia. Focus on now.

Cole rushed up to James. “Sophie went in twenty minutes ago. South entrance. No movement since.”

I barely heard the details over the blood rushing in my ears. My sister was in there. With him.

“Let’s go,” James commanded, then turned to Eric. “You and Andy stay behind.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Eric muttered, and in any other situation, I might have appreciated his dry humor.

“I’m coming in, too,” I said, stepping forward. “Mia?—”

Matt turned to me, his expression stern. “As I said, I don’t want Herbert seeing you and?—”

“I don’t give a fuck about Herbert and whether he sees me or not,” I snapped, surprising even myself with the venom in my voice. “I’m here for my sister. I’m going in to save her with you three whether you like it or not.”

Without waiting for an argument, I marched toward the building. Let them try to stop me. I’d crawl through a damn window if I had to.

“As hotheaded as usual.” Matt sighed behind me.

“Can’t blame him,” James replied. “It’s his sister in there. We’d do the same if we were in his position.”

We approached the warehouse, my heart thundering against my rib cage, gearing up for… for what? A fight? A rescue? Both? The click and snap of magazines and safeties sounded like a morbid orchestra tuning up for a performance.

Mia’s scream cut through the air like a serrated knife. “Let me go, Herbert! Let me go, you bastard!”

My heart stopped, dropped, and shattered all at once. A visceral, primitive sound escaped me, something between a growl and a whimper.

“That was Mia.” The words crawled up my throat like broken glass. “It was Mia. She’s here!”

The warehouse doors surrendered to James’ kick with a screech of rusted metal, and we burst through, guns leading the way—though mine was the weapon of presence alone.

Inside, we stepped into what looked like the reject set from every B-grade horror movie ever made.

Trash everywhere, shadows that seemed to breathe, and an overwhelming stench of decay and desperation.

If despair had a forwarding address, this would be it.

We checked corners, cleared each section with military precision.

Except my precision was laced with panic and fueled by adrenaline.

“There’s another building out back,” Matt said, his voice tight with controlled violence.

That’s when we heard them again—Mia and Herbert’s voices tangled together in a din that made my skin try to crawl right off my bones. James cursed, a sound that promised retribution in languages probably not even invented yet.

The main warehouse door crashed open like the gates of hell themselves, and there she stood. Sophie Wilson. From Mary Poppins to kidnapping accomplice in one week flat. The woman who’d helped that monster take my sister because James Maxwell had wounded her pride.

She startled like a guilty thing, eyes widening when she saw James.

Then wider still when she registered Matt, Scott, and finally me.

I wanted to introduce her face to the concrete floor, but Matt’s presence behind me kept me grounded.

Besides, the look in James’ eyes promised something far worse than anything I could deliver.

“Where’s Mia?” James’ voice could have frozen nitrogen.

Sophie’s hand shook as she pointed toward another door. “There…”

We moved like avenging angels through that warehouse, James leading our dark procession. I followed, ignoring every instinct screaming at me to run the other way. Because Mia was through that door. Mia needed me.

And Herbert was waiting.

Up those stairs, through a corridor where peeling paint and crumbling concrete spoke of decades of neglect.

Each step brought us closer to Mia’s voice, each echo of her pain another nail in Herbert’s coffin—though I knew James and Matt would make sure that coffin wouldn’t be needed for quite some time yet.

When James burst through that final door, time did something funny. Not the slow-motion bullshit, but something worse—like reality itself hiccupped, skipped a beat, then slammed back into focus with brutal clarity.

There was my sister—my fierce, beautiful, protective big sister—sprawled naked on a concrete floor. Bruises painted her skin in watercolors of violence, blood adding macabre highlights. And there was Herbert, looming over her like every nightmare I’d ever had come to life.

The same monster who’d?—

No. Not now. Not here.

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t do anything but watch as James threw Herbert against the wall with enough force to make the concrete crack. If only that crack had been Herbert’s spine.