Page 3 of Unleashed (Dark Sovereign #11)

ISAIA

Iknow where she is.

I know what time his plane landed in New York. The names of his cabin crew. The motherfucking blood type of each and every bodyguard he had her surrounded with.

I know what time his car left the airport. The exact fucking timestamp when he carried her through the back door of his apartment building.

And where am I? In Chicago…with my brothers…because Alexius said so. Understandably, he wants all of us at the estate, around the Dark Sovereign table so I can give a full rundown of what the fuck happened on the island.

I’m a selfish prick, the youngest sibling, the one who cares less about the family business and decorum than the rest of my brothers.

But I do understand the necessity for this.

Paladino created a lot of shit for the Dark Sovereign with the attack now on everyone’s lips, and we need to get a handle on it before it spirals out of control, feeding the frenzy of the media, the opposition, and the countless noses that never belonged poking into our affairs.

Now, usually, when it comes to Everly, I don’t give a shit about my big brother’s orders. Do I have the unfathomable urge to fly to New York, barge into Paladino’s apartment building, tear his spine out of his ass, carry my wife out of there, and then burn the city to the ground?

Yes.

Yes, I do.

But there’s this annoying, unwelcome calm that’s got my finger on the pause button.

As much as it fucking kills me to admit, I know he won’t hurt her.

He’ll probably try to touch her, which is why I’ll cut his fingers off and feed them to him before I slit his throat the next time I see his ugly face.

The second I kill the engine, the front doors swing open.

I glance at Luna sitting restlessly in the back seat. “Here we go.”

Caelian’s already smirking as he strolls out, sleeves rolled, a drink in one hand and that smug I’m-the-coolest-asshole glint in his eye.

“You don’t write. You don’t call.” He leans against one of the porch columns, eyeing my car like it insulted his wardrobe. “And then you roll up in the world’s loudest cry for help. Was the ‘I’m-emotionally-unstable’ license plate sold out?”

“I just figured it was time to remind you what a V12 sounds like.” I open the back door, Luna jumps out, and I slam both doors shut.

Caelian scoffs, mock-offended, lifting his glass. “Loud, obnoxious, and unnecessary. Just like its driver.” He watches Luna as she pees on the gravel. “You brought a dog?”

“Figured you needed a friend.”

“Oh, that’s funny. Ha. Fucking. Ha. If that mutt pees on my shoes, I will take a dump on your fucking chest, I swear to God.”

Alexius struts out, suit so sharp it could slice bread, tailored so tight I swear it’s holding his ego in place.

Moments like these, I have to remind myself that when we were kids, he farted, too.

This guy, with his flawless hair and cover-model smirk—he’s still the same asshole who ripped one so vile it could peel paint.

And while everyone gagged, eyes watering, he’d point at me. Every. Damn. Time.

“I have to admit, I didn’t think you’d come.” Luna runs up to him, brushing herself against his leg.

“She recognizes you.” I pull out a cigarette.

“Of course, she does.” Caelian rolls his eyes. “He has that kind of face bitches don’t easily forget.”

“Well, well, well.” Nicoli steps in beside Alexius with that permanent half-amused smirk, like the world’s a joke only he gets. “The prodigal son returns.”

“I haven’t even been home for two seconds and I’m already bored,” I mutter.

“Hey—” Caelian lights a cigarette and continues with it dangling between his lips “—you can’t just come home after months of being on a tropical island and expect us to shower you with affection and entertainment.”

I raise an eyebrow at him, leaning casually against my car. “Caelian, if I wanted your affection, I’d get myself a lobotomy.”

“See, I knew that yellow fucking car of yours was a symptom of some psychiatric disorder.”

“You’re a fucking psychiatric disorder.” Nicoli slaps Caelian on the back, and the cigarette flies out of his mouth.

“Hey, watch—”

“Children,” Alexius interrupts. “Regrettably, we’re not here to discuss your questionable taste in cars or mental health issues. I’m sure Isaia’d like to get this over with so he can continue with his plans to kidnap his wife.”

Caelian’s eyes widen. “Again?”

“Shut up.” I stride up the stairs and shove against his shoulder as I pass.

His eyes catch mine. “A lobotomy might make you more tolerable, though. Think about it.”

“Suck my—”

“Did you actually leave her behind in New York?” Nicoli falls in step next to me as we head to the Dark Sovereign room. Fuck, I’m dying for some bourbon right now.

“It’s a day,” I mutter, stopping in front of the large pocket door, watching Alexius pull the gold key from his pocket and slip it into the lock. “He won’t hurt her.”

“He might fuck her.” Caelian shrugs, and I slam my elbow into his ribs, subtle enough I barely move, hard enough to knock the wind out of his mouthy lungs.

He grunts and stumbles a step back. “Okay, maybe that was too far,” he wheezes, recovering.

Rollers glide across the overhead track as the doors disappear into the cavity built into the walls.

It’s been months since I’ve been in here, and I have to admit…

I missed it more than I thought I would.

This room has always been a heavy-as-shit cross tied around my neck.

But the familiarity of it eases me somehow.

Alexius walks straight to the oval table that takes up most of the room while I make a beeline for the bourbon. I don’t bother asking who wants a drink because I know everyone does, but slam one back before pouring my second and start filling three more glasses.

“Where’s Maximo?” I hand Nicoli his drink.

Alexius glances at his wristwatch. “I’m not sure. He should have been here by now.”

Nicoli takes his seat on Alexius’ right, studying me like he’s waiting for my skull to crack open at any moment.

“What?” I snap, sitting across from him.

“You’re oddly…calm for a man who just left an entire island in wreckage and lost his wife in the process.”

“Yeah, well, looks can be deceiving.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I don’t think so.” God, he’s fucking annoying. “You’re scared. Aren’t you, little brother?”

I right myself in my seat. “Of what?”

“Losing her.”

Those two words slither down my insides, settling heavily in my gut.

“Pffft.” Caelian leans back in his chair. “That ship’s sailed. Paladino took her, which means he already lost her.”

“You know where she is. You know who she’s with. Yet you decided to come home first.” It’s the way Nicoli slants his head, like he sees straight through every wall I’ve built.

“Alexius’ orders,” I state simply, trying not to let him get to me.

“Since when do you give a fuck about my orders?” Alexius places his elbows on the table. “You’ve never listened to me before when it came to her, which is why I didn’t expect you actually to show up.”

I tap my fingers on the glass tumbler. “Decorum…and all that.”

“Bullshit,” Cealian utters. “Nicoli’s right. You’re fucking terrified.”

“That’s not—”

“She knows you lied to her,” Alexius starts calmly. “She knows you kept the truth from her, and you’re afraid she won’t forgive you for it.”

“And even if she does,” Nicoli chimes in, “you know you’re going to kill the fucker—for real this time—when you see his face again, and if you do…you’ll lose her. For good.”

Caelian scowls. “You’re stalling, little brother. And here I thought you came home ’cause you missed us.”

“Am I being tag-teamed?” I raise a brow in warning. “Get off my ass and out of my personal life.”

I lean forward slowly, elbows braced on my knees, glass dangling from my fingers. The liquor swirls once, catching the light, before I down it in one hard gulp, then realize they’re all staring at me with that we-ain’t-buying-your-bullshit look.

I sigh, slamming my glass down on the table. “Okay, yes! Of course, I’m scared.” My voice is rough. Low. “I’m fucking terrified. It’s like I’m being peeled open, and my heart’s about to be ripped out.”

They go quiet.

“Every breath feels like it might be my last, like I can’t even get the oxygen deep enough for me to feel like I’m not choking.

” I glower at Caelian, then Nicoli. “I lied to her. About something—” I grimace “—some…one who was…is really fucking important to her. Knowing my wife, I’m pretty goddamn sure that lie broke something in her.

And I don’t know if I can fix it without breaking the rest of her in the process. ”

Caelian exhales a long breath, eyes narrowing. “So, what now?”

“Now?” I look up, cold steel in my gut. “I dunno.”

Alexius brushes his fingers along his jaw, eyes calculating. Always calculating. “Everly’s a strong woman, Isaia. I doubt she’d run without confronting you, demanding answers. Explanations.”

“Don’t I know it.” I huff, dragging my fingers through my hair.

Caelian snuffs out the cigarette in the crystal ashtray. “And you’re here in Chicago, totally fine that the woman you love is currently with another man.”

“I’m not fine with it, asshole. Alexius wanted me home for a briefing, so I came home.”

“While she’s in New York with him.” His eyes turn into slits. “Alone. With him.”

My jaw clenches, teeth grinding.

“Are you fucking insane? Alexius locked Leandra up to make sure he doesn’t lose her. Nicoli sabotaged Mira’s career to protect her, and I carried Giana down the fucking aisle. Are you about to prove me right, little brother?”

I scowl at Caelian. “Right about what?”

He leans back, arms outstretched like he owns the world. “That you do, after all, have the smallest set of balls in this room.”

“Caelian,” Alexius warns. “Cut the shit.”

“What? I’m serious, man. His wife is out there with the best friend she thought was dead and the man who orchestrated an action sequence like a fucking Jerry Bruckheimer movie, and here—”