Page 92 of Fractured Future

Looking out the window, I watch the dizzying heights of Canary Wharf rise above us. Beyond being the beating heart of London’s business district, this canal-side suburb boasts multimillion-pound apartment buildings, endless cocktail bars and high-end restaurants.

At the feel of my phone vibrating, I quickly check my messages. I was half-tempted to leave it behind, knowing that the guys are tracking me. Seeing as I’m with Hyland anyway, it felt pointless.

Unknown number: I want a rematch, sweetheart.

Unknown number: If you still want those answers.

Lungs sputtering, I quickly shove my phone back into my pocket. Blaine bloody Madden is the whole reason I’m in this mess. As much as I want to, I can’t think about him or his fascinatingly scarred body right now.

When Hyland indicates right to pull into one of the huge apartment buildings’ parking garages, tapping a code into the keypad so the barrier will rise, realisation hits.

“Wait. You live here?”

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

“I guess I am.”

“Warner, Axel and I share a penthouse apartment here. We moved in a few years ago.”

I know Sabre pays my brother’s firm a small fortune for his legal jiu-jitsu, but I hadn’t stopped to consider how the Anaconda Team has risen through the ranks too. They’re top dogs now.

“How come I’m getting a magical mystery tour?” I joke dryly.

Hyland swings his SUV into a parking spot. “Team meeting.”

“And I get an invite?”

Casting me a look, he doesn’t answer.

Huh.

I climb out of the SUV, adjusting my blue jeans and tee. Tom turned his nose up at the big rip in the right knee this morning. While he’s mad at me, he still found time to insult my style in typical brotherly fashion.

After fiddling with his sandy-coloured man bun, Hyland shoves a few loose tendrils behind his ears as we head inside. The doorman stands to attention when he sees us coming, the pair exchanging nods.

“One of yours?” I mutter.

“Yeah. James is on our pay roll.”

He steers us over towards the elevators, glistening beneath modern glass chandeliers that illuminate the marble floors. Hell, this place is grand. It feels like some luxurious five-star retreat.

“We have 24/7 security, Ember. This line of work paints a target on your back.”

“Speaking from personal experience?”

Hyland jabs the button for the penthouse. “Something like that.”

The doors click shut, sealing us in the tight space. I’m drumming up another line of conversation to get him talking to me when Hyland abruptly spins around, barging into my space.

“Woah!”

I’m backed up by his intimidating frame until my spine presses against the mirrored wall. His hands land on either side of my head, bracing him in a dominant position while his scowling face leans in close.

The rapid shift makes my head spin. I’m caged by his oversized frame, locked in a steely prison of muscles and golden skin.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

“Now you want to talk?” I crane my neck to see into his mossy pools. “We had a whole car ride to hash this out.”