Page 34

Eli

The helicopter appears out of nowhere, a black wasp against the afternoon sky, dropping toward the estate grounds with military precision. I’m pruning the rose bushes near the main house when the rotor wash hits me, sending petals and debris flying in all directions.

The chopper is sleek, expensive, and unmarked. The kind wealthy men use when they want to move fast and avoid questions.

My Alpha instincts immediately surge to high alert. This isn’t a scheduled arrival—I know Beck’s calendar better than my own, and there’s nothing about aerial visitors today.

I drop my pruning shears and sprint toward the landing area, my heart already hammering with dread.

Through the swirling dust and noise, I can see figures emerging from the aircraft.

Five large men in dark clothing. Men, I don’t recognize but whose very presence makes my skin crawl.

The leanest of the men barks out orders.

Even from a distance, he radiates the predatory Alpha energy that makes other Alphas want to bare their teeth in warning.

“Find her?” he shouts over the rotor noise to one of his companions, a man built like a linebacker with dead eyes and scarred knuckles. “Find the girl. Now.”

Ice floods my veins as I realize what’s happening.

Emmie. They’re here for Emmie. This must be Blake.

I pull out my phone, hitting Beck’s number as I continue running toward them.

It goes straight to voicemail. I know he’s in meetings all afternoon.

Shit. I try the house line, but no one answers.

The staff must be dealing with their own confusion about the unexpected arrival. I hope someone gets a message to Beck.

By the time I reach the helicopter, blood is roaring around my veins as Blake and his men move toward the cottage with military efficiency. The pilot remains with the aircraft, rotors still spinning, ready for immediate departure.

“Stop!” I shout, putting myself between them and the cottage. “This is private property. You’re trespassing.”

Blake turns toward me, and I get my first clear look at the man who terrorized Emmie for years. He’s tall, well-dressed, probably mid-fifties with salt-and-pepper hair and cold blue eyes that seem to catalog my weaknesses in a single glance. He’s old but handsome, in how predators often are.

“Elias Silver, I presume,” he says with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I believe you’re harboring something that belongs to me.”

“No one here belongs to you,” I snarl, my Alpha rising to meet his challenge.

“Emmie does. She’s my stepdaughter, and she’s been missing for months. I’m here to collect her and take her home where she belongs.”

“Like hell you are.”

Blake’s smile widens, becoming genuinely amused. “I was hoping you’d say that. It’s so much more entertaining when there’s resistance.”

He nods to his men, and I barely have time to register the movement before something hits me from behind. Pain explodes through my skull, and I stagger, vision blurring.

The second blow drops me to my knees.

Through the haze of pain, I hear the cottage door open.

Rita’s voice, sharp with panic. “What’s happening? What are you—?”

“Where’s my daughter?” Blake’s voice cuts through the air like a blade.

“She’s not your daughter, Blake. I’ve called the police.”

“Where is Emmie? Where is she?” he yells. The silence that follows is deafening.

Then Rita’s voice, smaller now. “She’s at school. She won’t be back until this evening.”

He glances at his watch. “Then we’ll wait.”

I try to push myself up, to get between Blake and Rita, but one of his men—the one who looks like he eats nails for breakfast—plants a boot in my ribs.

Argh! Air rushes out of my lungs in a painful whoosh.

“Stay down,” he growls. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“Everything on this estate concerns me,” I wheeze, struggling to my feet despite the pain. “And if you think I’m going to let you take her—“

The punch catches me across the jaw before I can finish my sentence, snapping my head sideways. I swallow the metallic taste, but I don’t care about the warm blood filling my mouth. I’m her Alpha. Emmie is my pack mate, and I’d rather die than let these bastards touch her.

I charge the nearest thug, catching him around the waist and driving him backward into the cottage wall. We go down in a tangle of limbs, and I manage to land a few solid hits before his partner joins the fray.

The fight is brutal and brief. Two against one, and they’re clearly professionals. Within minutes, I’m on the ground again, zip-tied and bleeding from a dozen slight cuts. But I’ve bought time, and hopefully someone has heard the commotion.

“Spirited,” Blake observes, straightening his tie as if the violence was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. “I can see why she likes you. Emmie always had a weakness for broken things.”

He knows? The casual cruelty in his voice makes my vision blur with rage. “You know nothing about her.”

“I know everything about her. I raised her from the time she was fourteen. Fed her, clothed her, protected her.” His smile turns predatory. “And when I found out how special she was, I took my time and shaped her into exactly what I needed her to be.”

“You abused her.”

“I never touched her. But I prepared her for her purpose in life. The fact that she ran away before fulfilling that purpose is inconvenient, but hardly insurmountable.” Blake checks his expensive watch again. “School gets out at three-thirty, I believe? We should have her back within the hour.”

That’s when I hear it—the rumble of a car engine coming up the drive. My heart lurches as I recognize the sound of Beck’s sports car. He’s supposed to be in meetings until five, but one of the staff must have called him—

“Perfect timing,” Blake says with genuine glee. “I was hoping to meet the famous Beck Silver.”

The car pulls up near the helicopter, and Beck emerges, looking every inch the powerful Alpha he is.

His dark suit is perfectly tailored, his hair immaculate despite the wind from the rotors.

There’s a deep tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes immediately catalog the scene—the helicopter, the strange men, me on the ground bleeding.

His gaze finds mine across the distance, and I see the exact moment he understands what’s happening. His expression goes absolutely cold, the kind of winter freeze that kills everything it touches.

“Gentlemen,” he says, his voice carrying easily over the noise. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”

Blake steps forward with the confidence of a man who’s used to getting what he wants. “Yet I know exactly who you are. Beckett Silver. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“I wish I could say the same.” Beck’s tone is polite, but there’s steel underneath. “However, I don’t recall inviting you to my property.”

“I’m just here to collect what’s mine and be on my way. No need for unpleasantness.”

“What’s yours?” Beck’s eyebrows rise slightly. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“My stepdaughter. Emmeline Darling. According to my sources, she’s been hiding here for weeks under a false name, and I’ve come to take her home.”

The silence that follows is loaded with violence. Beck processes this information, and I can practically see when he shifts from confused host to lethal protector.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” Beck says finally.

“Oh, but it will.” Blake signals to his men, and suddenly there are guns visible and pointing at my brother. “You see, Mr. Silver, I have legal guardianship papers. Emmie is mentally unstable, prone to delusions and self-harm. She needs specialized care that only I can provide.”

“Bullshit,” I spit from the ground. Blake glances at me with amusement.

Beck’s hands clench into fists, the only visible sign of his rising fury. “Get off my property. Now.”

“I’ll leave as soon as I have my daughter.”

“She’s not your daughter. And even if she were, she’s an adult who can make her own choices.”

“Not according to these documents.” Blake produces a folder from his jacket, waving it casually. “Signed by three psychiatrists and a judge. Emmie Darling is legally incompetent to decide about her own welfare.”

The papers are fake—they have to be. But they look official enough to muddy the legal waters, to give Blake just enough justification to take her by force and sort out the details later.

That’s when I hear the second car. Beck grabs his phone to call Mr. Sampson, but it’s knocked out of his hands.

The car door opens and then closes. But Emmie and Mr. Sampson are out of sight. I have one chance to get them out of here.

“Emmie, get in the car and go!” I yell before my head is slammed into the wall.

I’m dazed when my eyes open again seconds later.

She looks beautiful and confident in her fitted clothes and stylish haircut, completely unaware of the danger waiting for her. Didn’t she hear me?

Only when she sees the helicopter does confusion and then panic cross her face. But it’s when she sees Blake that every drop of color drains from her cheeks.

“Hello, darling,” Blake says with genuine warmth, as if he’s greeting a beloved daughter instead of stalking his prey. “Did you miss me?”

The sound that escapes Emmie’s throat is barely human—a wounded animal cry that cuts straight through my chest. She takes an instinctive step backward, but Blake’s men are already moving.

“No!” she screams, breaking into a run. “No, no, no!”

But there’s nowhere to go. Two men flank her expertly, cutting off her escape route. When she tries to dart toward the main house, the linebacker catches her around the waist, lifting her off the ground despite her struggles.

“Put her down!” Beck roars, starting forward, despite the guns still trained on his body.

Blake produces a gun from inside his jacket. This one is larger, more serious. “I really wouldn’t recommend that, Mr. Silver. My associates are very well trained, and accidents happen.”

Beck freezes, and I can see the calculation in his eyes. He’s weighing options, looking for an opening, but Blake has chosen his moment perfectly. Too many variables, too much risk to Emmie.

“Let me go!” Emmie fights like a wildcat, clawing at her captor’s arms, trying to break free. “Beck! Eli! Help me!”

The desperation in her voice breaks something fundamental in my chest. I struggle against the zip ties, not caring that they’re cutting into my wrists, not caring about the guns or the odds or anything except getting to her.

“It’s all right, sweetheart,” Blake says soothingly, holstering his weapon now that the situation is under control. “Daddy’s here now. We’re going home.”

“You’re not my father!” she screams, her legs kicking wildly. “You’re a monster! A fucking psychopath!”

Blake’s expression doesn’t change, but something cold flickers in his eyes. “Language, Emmie. We’ll need to work on that once we’re home.”

They’re moving toward the helicopter now. Emmie fights every step of the way, but the pilot has increased the rotor speed, preparing for immediate departure.

“Wait,” Beck calls out, his voice carrying absolute authority. “Name your price.”

Blake pauses, interested despite himself. “I’m sorry?”

“Whatever you think she’s worth to you, I’ll double it. Triple it. Name any figure, and I’ll transfer the funds immediately.”

For a moment, I think it might actually work. Blake is a businessman, after all, and money talks in his language. But then he laughs—a sound like breaking glass.

“Mr. Silver, you misunderstand the situation entirely. This isn’t about money.

This is about family. About a father’s love for his daughter.

” The way he says “love,” makes my skin crawl.

“You see,” Blake continues, “Emmie has a very specific genetic profile. Excellent Omega genes, proven fertility in her female line, exceptional intelligence. She’s going to give me beautiful, valuable children.

And no amount of money can replace that kind of investment. ”

“Over my dead body,” Beck snarls.

“That can be arranged,” Blake replies pleasantly. “But I’d prefer to keep this civilized. Much less paperwork.”

They’ve reached the helicopter now. Emmie is still fighting, but her struggles are growing weaker as shock and fear take their toll. The sight of her being forced into that aircraft makes something primitive and violent rise in my chest.

“Emmie!” I shout over the increasing rotor noise. “I choose you, Emmie. Don’t let him win!”

She turns toward my voice, tears streaming down her face. “Eli—“

The helicopter door slams shut, cutting off her words. Through the window, I can see her pressed against the glass, her mouth open in a scream I can’t hear over the engine noise.

Beck lunges forward, but it’s too late. The aircraft lifts off, rising quickly above the estate grounds. Within seconds, it’s nothing more than a black dot against the sky, carrying away the most important person in my world.

I try to stand but sink to my knees, the zip ties finally cutting through skin to draw blood.

Rita is sobbing somewhere behind me, and Beck is on his phone, probably calling every resource he has. But all I can think about is the look in Emmie’s eyes as they took her away. The terror, the betrayal, the desperate plea for help that I was too weak, too slow, too fucking useless to answer.

She’s gone. And I don’t know if we’ll ever get her back.