Page 88 of Saved By the Billionaire

Twist took the knife from Blaze and walked over to pop the tough plastic ties binding Micah’s wrists behind his back.

Blaze would still keep an eye on the two of them to make sure their loyalties did indeed lie with him and the side of the angels, but this behavior from them was consistent with the boys Blaze had grown up with and the men he’d known since.

Twist straightened and consulted his phone. “We have some time. Logan is still at Dr. Bell’s office.”

“And you know this, how?” Blaze asked.

He waggled his phone.“Myspy app is on their phones. I can see everything they can and some things they don’t know about.”

“Speaking of your phone and its fucking apps,” Blaze said, staring right at Tristan “Twist” King, that asshole.“Put my fucking money back.”

“Oh, that. Sure.” Twist ducked his head, embarrassed, and twiddled with his phone. “It’ll post tonight and show up in your accounts tomorrow. Sorry about that.”

“Yeah,” Blaze muttered, still pissed about it. “Sure, you are.”

When that money hit his accounts, his options would expand a thousand-fold. Von Hannover had spotted him some, but there’s nothing like a literal billion dollars to make problems go away.

Twist had better be telling the goddamn truth about his assets, or Blaze would shove his boot right up Twist’s ass to make his point.

Micah jutted his chin toward Blaze and looked down, indicating where hot blood was seeping through the towel and his trousers’ leg again. “That looks like it’s not closing up,” Micah said. “You need a doctor.”

Blaze flipped his hand in the air, gesturing to the locks bolted to the exterior of the bedroom door. “I can’t go to an emergency room.”

“I can get a doctor to make a house call. I know a lady. She can be here in an hour.”

Blaze didn’t trust him. “The mafia has doctors that will make a house call?”

Micah shrugged. “We’re in New York City. We got mafia doctors, mafia priests, mafia lawyers. We’ve got a lot of lawyers.”

“Okay, fine. But for now, we plan,” Blaze said, staring the two of them in their eyes, one set brilliant blue and the other a shifting opalescent gray, watching for any sign of betrayal.

27

STEAM

SARAH

Mist frosted the bathroom mirror as the hot shower billowed steam into the small bathroom where the four of them stood almost chest-to-chest.

Sarah crossed her arms over her chest and fumed, her skin becoming clammy from the humidity, and her elbow poked the blond traitor-dude in his arm. He didn’t seem to notice.

Just a few days ago, those two jerks had been pointing guns at them and narcing to her evil aunt, and now Blaze wastrustingthem with his plan.

And yep, Blaze was spilling the beans,all the flippin’ beans,on hiswholefiendish plan.

A lot of it relied too much on his Navy SEAL physicality, which was a problem consideringhe’d been shot in the legduring that final skirmish with Nemesis in Sarah’s kitchen. Even though Blaze had tied a towel around his leg, blood was beginning to dampen his pants again.

And still, the three men schemed about how to take out the Russian bratva boss and hermany heavily armed mercenariesby pointing guns at them and relying on Blaze to throw punches.

What could go wrong?

Sarah was about two seconds away from skittering up to the ceiling of the packed bathroom and clinging there, spitting anxiety at them.

She plucked at Blaze’s sleeve again. “Ireallyneed to tell you about what they were saying on the plane.”

Blaze waved her off and kept talking about his elaborate plan that also seemed to rely on Mary Varvara Bell somehow becoming stupid and easily cowed.

Her aunt had lots of bodyguards from the Koch Group in her office, the one that recruited psychopaths with a death wish from prisons. If Micah and Twist pulled guns on Mary Varvara Bell and Logan from behind, those bodyguards would just shoot those two guys dead before she even noticed there was a problem.