Page 90 of Tragic Empire

“Whatever their motivations were, it was not your fault. I’ve told you that before, and I’ll say it again. You aren’t responsible for the insane things this lunatic does.”

Breathing shakily, I nod. “What do they want with me? Why me?”

“I don’t know yet, love, but I’m going to find out. We’re not listening to his fucking threats either, Ana. I won’t bow down to some faceless fuck who thinks he owns you. You are mine. My woman. My wife. Mine to touch, to love, tofuck, to do whatever the hell you want from me. Do you hear me?”

A sigh of relief tugs on the tether of tension in my gut. “You mean it? You won’t avoid me now to keep me safe or some bullshit?”

“Never going to happen, Wife.”

The next few hours pass in a blur of phone calls, camera hunting, and stiff conversations. Remo isn’t able to trace the phone responsible for ruining my night. It’s a burner phone, and whoever bought it, covered their tracks. No one is happy with the news, least of all Remo. He takes pride in his hacking abilities, apparently, and not being able to help irks him.

Though Colton and Armani are able to find a total of four cameras in my bedroom, they aren’t confident that more won’t pop up. Which means that Cassio insists we move into another room. Bron’s to be exact. The likelihood of the Monarch having his room bugged is slim, but the boys still do a thorough sweep before moving my clothes and toiletries over.

By the time the dust has begun to settle, and the unknown number has been blocked in my phone, no one is tired enough to go back to sleep. The sun has risen, and the stress of dealing with the situation has us all wide awake. Cassio leaves me to decompress in the shower, while he decides to take my phone to visit Killian. He hopes that the two of them might be able to dissect the messages, and even if they can’t, he’s due to check in on my brother.

The hot and steamy shower does a good job of waking me up from the small pity party I was throwing for myself earlier. Whatever I’ve done in the past, it’s not going to scare Cassio away. Helovesme.

He isn’t afraid of what’s happening now, either. He’s pissed, actually.

Armani and Colton are too. They looked like they wanted to obliterate every camera they found. And watching their faces screw up with wrath while reading the anonymous messages on my phone, I know they won’t rest until they punish whoever is responsible for them.

One thing is for sure, I’m glad I haven’t made it back to volunteering yet. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if this psychopath somehow used the orphanage to get to me. I might need to keep my distance until this is done. I care too much about those kids and the women who run the place to put them at risk.

Deciding I need to eat, I towel-dry my hair as best as I can before slipping into a clean outfit. A simple pair of cotton shorts and a vest top.

When I enter the living room, I don’t find the typical sight. Normally I would walk in on Armani and Colton eating breakfast while some kind of sporting event plays on the telly. Today though, there’s a familiar hum in the air as I find Colton topless, lying on his side while Armani leans over him. He’s laser focused on the cowboy’s ribs, etching some sort of design into his skin. My interest is immediately piqued.

Armani does tattoos?

I knew he had most of his body decorated in ink—obviously—but I was completely unaware that he also knows how to do the art himself. I should really make a better effort to get to know him. I think he’s one of my best mates, honestly. Silently, I make a promise to be a better friend.

“I’m offended,” I tell them primly, getting their attention. “Why wasn’t I invited to this little party?”

The buzzing cuts off as they both look toward my voice.

Armani gives me a beaming grin, ignoring my comment. “Hey, pretty girl,” he greets happily. “We needed to blow off some steam. We’ve only been going for about twenty minutes now. Of course you’re invited.”

Trying not to smile, I fold my arms. “So many minutes I’ve missed, how will I recover from such a betrayal?”

“Twenty minutes of pure torture without your company, doll,” Colton quips. “Come join us and see Armani in his element—making me suffer.”

“You asked for this, drama queen.”

“You’re making it more painful on purpose, I know you are.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense. How would I do that?”

“You tell me, you’re the sadist with the needles.”

An easy smile creeps on my face, feeling so at home while witnessing their spirted banter. These two could do this fake bickering thing all day long, if they wanted.

Armani rolls his eyes. “Shall I stop then, your highness?”

“Don’t you dare leave me half finished, fucker,” Colton grumbles.

“That’s what she said.”

“You’re a child.”