Page 45 of Royal Deception (Royals of the Underworld #2)

CLARY

I glare at Aleksey, my blood boiling hotter than it ever has in my life. “You have some nerve threatening to hurt a pregnant woman.” My voice shakes, not from fear, but from barely restrained rage.

Aleksey smirks, tilting his head like he’s amused. “And?” He spreads his hands. “You think that makes you untouchable? This is business, sweetheart. Your condition is just… collateral damage.”

I want to lunge at him, claw his eyes out, make him pay for even thinking about harming my child, but I’m still tied up, trapped like a goddamn animal. Helpless. The only thing keeping me together is my fury.

Not the fear. Not the nagging thought in the back of my mind that I might not get out of this. Just rage.

And betrayal.

Kate. My own fucking stepmother. I knew she was a snake, but I never thought she’d actually sell me out like this. I should have, though. I should have known the moment she sank her claws into my father. The moment she made it clear she’d never see me as anything but an obstacle.

Now she’s gone, disappeared into the wind, probably off to celebrate with her Russian boyfriend while I’m left here with Aleksey and his men.

Aleksey finally stands, dusting off his suit. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have a meeting to attend.” His grin is sharp, wolfish. “With your man.”

My stomach tightens. Rory.

Aleksey strides toward the door, leaving me under the watchful eyes of at least half a dozen Bratva enforcers. I force my expression to stay neutral, even as my heart pounds.

I might be tied up, but I’m not done fighting.

I shift my gaze between the men standing guard, my lips curling into something like a smirk. “You boys do realize what you’ve done, right?” I ask, my voice smooth, confident. “You’ve made yourselves dead men walking.”

One of them chuckles, a heavyset guy with a scar down his cheek. “Big words for a little girl in a chair.”

Another one snorts. “Think your Irish boyfriend’s gonna come storming in here and save you?”

I hold his gaze. “I know he is.”

That earns a round of laughter.

“Idiots,” I mutter under my breath.

They think I’m weak. They think Rory won’t burn this entire place to the ground for me. They have no idea what’s coming.

And that’s their first mistake.

The enforcers mutter to each other in Russian, their voices lowering as they move further away, probably thinking I’m too scared or too stupid to do anything while they’re distracted.

They’ll get what’s coming to them.

I shift my wrists, feeling the rough bite of the rope against my skin. They tied me up well, but not well enough. My fingers are already working at the knots, twisting and tugging, testing the give.

Rory is coming for me. I know that much for sure. He may not love me—hell, half the time, I don’t even know what he feels for me—but I do know one thing.

He doesn’t share.

And he sure as hell doesn’t let other men put their hands on what belongs to him.

A small, fierce smile tugs at my lips despite the situation. If these Russian bastards think they’ve won, they’re about to learn just how wrong they are.

But even with that certainty, a sliver of unease slithers through me. Because Rory isn’t here yet. And I have no idea what these men might do before he gets here.

I glance toward the doorway, listening to their low conversation. They aren’t paying attention to me now, but that won’t last.

I need to get out of here before they decide what to do with me. Before they decide to hurt me. Before they decide to hurt my baby.

A fresh wave of determination surges through me.

I tug harder at the ropes, twisting my hands until my fingers start to go numb. No matter what it takes, I’m getting out of here.

I’m not waiting to be saved.

I’m still working at the ropes, the sweat beading on my forehead now, when I hear it.

A sharp crash, followed by the unmistakable sound of shouting.

"Go, go, go!"

My heart races. My breath hitches. Panic floods my veins as the sounds of chaos spill into the room. Fists hitting flesh. Gunshots echoing from somewhere distant. The thud of boots against concrete.

I strain my ears, trying to make sense of it. But all I hear is noise.

I freeze, my body tensing.

More footsteps. They sound heavy, deliberate. They’re coming closer.

A man enters the room, his face hidden beneath a balaclava, eyes dark and cold. Two more follow. Their footsteps are heavy, their movements sharp. And when they make their way toward me, I feel it in my bones. They aren’t here to help.

I’m outnumbered. And I’m tied up.

Every instinct I have tells me to fight. To scream. To do whatever it takes to survive. I yank harder at the ropes, my muscles burning, but they’re still too tight.

I twist in my bindings, every nerve on edge, ready to fight for my life. I know these men, this moment, can go one of two ways. It could be my last.

Then, one of them reaches for me. I flinch.

But then?—

“Clary?”

I hear the voice through the balaclava, the familiar sound, the tone I thought I’d never hear again.

The weight on my chest lifts.

The man pulls the mask off, and I can see the glint of his eyes. I know that face.

“Lucky?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” His voice is low, steady, as his hands move to untie me.

My breath comes out in a rush. I slump, the tension in my body giving way to relief I didn’t know I was holding onto. I hadn’t realized how much I needed to see him, to hear his voice, to know that someone is here.

But before I can say anything, another man approaches, and I freeze again, my heart pounding.

This time, I can’t help the shudder that runs down my spine.

But the man pulls off his mask, revealing the familiar, scowling face of Liam.

I exhale, the knot in my stomach unraveling as a wave of relief crashes over me.

“What the hell is going on?” I murmur, my voice shaky as the last of the fear ebbs from my system.

“We’re getting you out of here,” Lucky says, glancing around at the others. “But we’ve got to move fast.”

I nod, and just like that, I let myself trust them again. I let myself hope.

I keep my head down, letting Liam lead the way as we navigate through the maze of buildings, always keeping to the shadows.

I hear the thud of boots behind me—Rory’s men, making sure no one’s following.

It’s silent but for the occasional scrape of gravel and the low hum of a distant car.

My mind keeps drifting back to Rory, wondering if he’s okay. Is he dealing with Aleksey right now?

I can’t stand the thought of him putting himself at risk because of me.

Finally, I break the silence. “What the hell happened back there?”

Liam glances at me, his eyes briefly meeting mine before he looks forward again. "Aleksey called. He wants Rory to hand himself over and control of the businesses. If not… he’ll kill you and the baby."

I feel the blood drain from my face, panic starting to claw at my throat. “What the hell? He’s crazy. He thinks Rory will just give up everything?”

Lucky, who’s been silent, speaks up. “Aleksey’s desperate. He wants revenge for Anatoly. He knows Rory’s a threat to his empire. This isn’t just business for him. It’s personal. But Rory's not backing down, and he sure as hell isn't letting you die.”

Liam adds, “The extraction plan was put in place because we know Aleksey’s got most of his people focused on Rory right now. He’s hoping for an excuse to eliminate him. We moved in, took you, and kept it quiet. You’re safe for now, but we need to keep moving."

I’m shaking, my pulse thudding in my neck as I process the weight of what Liam and Lucky are saying. I hate feeling so out of the loop, so helpless.

“No,” I snap, frustration and fear pushing through. “I’m not going to Rory’s apartment, not while he’s out there with Aleksey. You don’t understand. I need to be with him. I need to make sure he’s okay.”

Lucky’s expression hardens. “You’re not thinking clearly, Clary. Rory is making sure Aleksey’s occupied. He’s got everything under control. We’re keeping you safe."

My eyes search their faces, but all I see is determination. Their resolve makes me want to scream.

“You don’t understand. You don’t know what it’s like to be on the other side, to be at the mercy of someone like Aleksey. He’ll stop at nothing.”

Liam exhales sharply, his tone gentle but firm. “We know, Clary. We’re doing everything we can. But getting to Rory now isn’t going to help him. He needs you safe, out of harm’s way.”

I grind my teeth together, a sense of helplessness settling in my stomach. “You don’t know what it’s like to feel this powerless. I can't just wait around while he’s out there risking everything for us.”

“We’re not leaving him to fend for himself,” Lucky interjects. “But right now, you need to stay put. You’re not going anywhere until we know it’s safe.”

They’re right, and I know that. I just don’t want to admit it. I want to be by Rory’s side, to show him that I’m not weak, that I can handle whatever comes my way. But deep down, I know this isn’t the right time. Not yet.

“Fine,” I finally mutter, exhaustion pulling at my body. "But the second it’s safe, I’m with him. You better get that message to him, or so help me God…”

They both nod, and I know they’re not taking my threats lightly. But for now, I have no choice but to trust them. I have no choice but to let Rory handle this his way, even if it kills me inside.

The ride to the penthouse feels like an eternity. Every bump in the road, every shift in the car’s movement makes my heart race a little faster. I can't sit still, and I know I’m driving Liam and Lucky crazy with my restless energy.

When we finally arrive, I barely wait for them to open the door before I’m inside, pacing like a trapped animal. The apartment’s quiet, eerily so, and I feel every second ticking by like a weight on my chest.

Liam takes a seat, arms crossed, his eyes flicking between me and the window, his jaw tight. Lucky stands at the door, his hand hovering near his gun, his stance tense. They’re both on edge, and it makes me feel worse.

I can't stand this. I hate waiting. I need to know that Rory’s okay. That he’s still alive. That he’s not facing Aleksey alone, trying to do everything he can to protect us. My stomach twists just thinking about it.

“What’s taking so long?” I snap, breaking the silence.

Liam looks up, his expression calm, but I can see the concern beneath it. “He’ll be fine, Clary. Rory’s a survivor. He’s been through worse.”

I know he’s trying to reassure me, but I’m not convinced. I wish I could believe it.

We both jump when Lucky’s phone rings, slicing through the thick tension in the room. I freeze, every muscle in my body going rigid. My eyes flick to Lucky, watching as he pulls the phone from his pocket. For a moment, he just stares at the screen, his face unreadable.

“Is it him?” I breathe, every part of me hoping that it’s Rory.

Lucky doesn’t answer, his thumb hovering over the screen before he presses it to his ear.

“Hello?”