Page 123 of Romancing His Heart

My phone rings, and I know instinctively to press record before answering.

“You have thirty-six hours to get Nadja to me, or they both die,” a thick Russian accent demands.

Ashton rushes into the room and starts typing wildly on the computer as he tries to trace the call.

“I need proof that my brother is alive.”

A menacing laugh comes through the speaker, chilling me to my core. “Your brother? Your brother, you stupid fool. He is no brother to you. Luca knows where to place his allegiance.”

I hear muffled screaming followed by the distinct sound of metal hitting human flesh. The low groan confirms my suspicions.

“Let me speak to him,” I grind out.

“Can’t do that. Luca is on his way to Camden Crossing. Do you know anyone in Camden Crossing, Loki?” The harshness of his accent makes the words even more sinister. “Thirty-six hours. Time starts now.” He hangs up, and Ashton sinks into the chair.

While Ash pulls himself together, I make all the necessary calls. This means war, but first, I need to make sure everyone else is safe.

“They’re trying to make you doubt Luca,” Ashton grinds out.

Turning my head, I nod. “I know.”

“I used every resource I had to look into him, Loki. He’s on our side, I’m sure of it.” I hate that he doubts my trust in him.

“Ash, I know you did. I believe you, and I believe in him. Claire has spent every minute with Nadja for months now. The SEALS trained her to spot holes in stories, tear people down, and she believes in them, too. Now we have to get our shit together and get our boys back. Are you ready?”

“Welcome to the chaos.” Ashton’s determination shows in his face. He’s out for blood, and these fuckers are going down.

Chapter 40

Sloane

The damn smoke detector goes off for the second time in five minutes, and try as I might, I can’t reach the freaking thing.

The doorbell rings, and I run in place for a solid minute, trying to decide what to do. Answer the door, or shoot the smoke detector with Loki’s gun. Sighing, I know the responsible thing to do is answer the door.

Checking the peephole, I don’t recognize the guys outside. “Can I help you?” I yell through the door.

“Sloane? We work for, ah, we work for your family. We got a signal that your smoke detector was going off. Is everything okay?” a deep male voice asks.

My family? What the fuck? Are they watching me now?

“Yes, I’m fine. I’m just ah, baking. No fire. It’ll go off in a minute.”

“Would you like us to take a look at it, ma’am?”

It would be easier if they took the fucking battery out, but I’m no dummy. I’m not letting a stranger into my home.

“No, thank you. I have it under control. Have a good day.”

Running back to the kitchen, I open all the windows, then swing a sheet pan back and forth wildly until the smoke clears and it stops beeping.

Jesus, I need to stop burning shit.

Staring at the mess I’ve made again, my shoulders slump.Come on, Sloane. You can do this. Why the hell is this so hard?

“Okay, I’ll call my sister about the stalkers, and I’ll try again.” Spending so much time alone, I’ve taken to talking to myself. I’ve also been very convincing when I tell myself that is completely normal behavior. “Welcome to my shitshow, everyone.”

Sloane: Why do I have babysitters outside?