Dangerous:Made & Broken (A British Bad Boy Romance)(32)

"Guess they really are as soft as the rumor claims, when it comes to women and family."

I closed my eyes to not have to look at Michael. If there truly were  such rumors about the Steels, then I knew they were as false as false  could be. And that's why I knew I was going to die tonight.

Even if Blaine somehow got the noble inclination to give up his family's  empire for me and our baby, I knew there was no chance on this Earth  that his father would comply. The man who had sent his own son to jail  for disobeying his orders would not give up an ounce of power for  Blaine's unwanted wife and child.

And without William Steel, there was no deal.

If Blaine hoped to overpower them with a large group of his men, I would be dead before he ever got to me.

I bit my lip hard to stop the tears from flowing again. I'd cried and  pleaded enough the past three days-I didn't want to waste my last hours  with more. It was too late for regrets now-too late to think about what  would have happened if I'd stayed with Blaine.

I only wished my hands were free so I could feel my baby move underneath my palms one last time.

"There's a car coming."

I opened my eyes at the scratching noise from the walkie in Michael's belt and my heart sped up. This was it.

"Any red flags?" my brother asked into the walkie.

"Not so far. Looks like there's just Blaine on his own. We'll be in in about half a minute, stay sharp."

Michael sent me a wide smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Did you hear  that, sis? Looks like Daddy's coming to save you all on his own. How  romantic."         

     



 

I stared at him. When we were little, we'd played together almost every  day. Devlen was older and had never been interested, but Michael and I  had been close. It all ended the day my dad caught him playing with  dolls with me and gave him the worst beating of his life for playing  with "girl toys." He hardly spoke to me in the years that followed, not  until that night he and Devlen held me down so my father could carve his  fury into my stomach.

Maybe after a few more decades I could have come to pity him for what my  father did to twist his spirit so horrifically, but not now. Not after  he had held his knife to my stomach and threatened my unborn child.

Now, all I felt for him was hatred.

The walkie buzzed again, drawing both of our attention. "We're coming in."

"Showtime," Michael said with a wink in my direction. He moved behind  me, and I felt the cold steel of his blade press up against my throat.  Then the doors to the warehouse slid open with a metallic clang,  revealing three figures against the backdrop of the darkness outside.  The figure in the middle carrying a briefcase towered over the two men  flanking him.

Blaine.

They walked through the door, and finally, I could see his face. He was  as handsome as ever, but behind the calm mask he'd schooled his features  into, I could see something else in his eyes: dark, dangerous and  all-consuming rage.

I swallowed thickly as he stared at me, suddenly more anxious about the  man standing in front of me than the one who had a knife to my throat.  Blaine was pissed, and I had a feeling it wasn't just with the men who  had tried to blackmail him.

"That's far enough," Michael hissed from behind me when Blaine didn't  stop where Devlin indicated. He pressed the knife tighter against my  skin, and I grimaced when I felt the blade bite in.

Blaine stopped, his eyes sweeping over my disheveled figure.

"You've mistreated my wife." His voice was as calm as his face, but  there was an unmistakable threat lurking beneath the surface.

"The little bitch struggled," my father said calmly as he sauntered up  next to Blaine. "And this ain't the Ritz. What have you got in the  briefcase, kid? Something that will make this go down the easy way, I  hope."

Finally, Blaine took his gaze off me and leveled it at my father. "This  is every deed to every business, estate and asset my family owns, along  with the key to every one of our bank deposit boxes. There's also a  small upfront payment of £200,000, as you requested. Upon the safe  return of Mira and myself, my father will call a meeting with the other  heads of London's underworld and let them know you now own our empire."

"And what guarantee do I have the old man will keep his word?" Despite  his attempt at sounding tough, my father couldn't keep his eyes off the  briefcase. His excitement was nearly palpable, even across the room.

Blaine arched an eyebrow at him. "I do believe handing over the deeds to  everything we own is a reasonable insurance. But if you insist, please  do go through the paperwork. I can wait."

My father practically snatched the briefcase out of Blaine's hands and  ripped it open. I couldn't see the contents, but from the look on my  father's face, it was everything Blaine had said it was.

I frowned with confusion. How the hell had Blaine convinced his father to do this?

And why?

He looked at me again then, and my heart gave an achy spasm in my chest at the change in his stormy eyes.

There was still anger in them, yes, but behind there was so much more. Devotion. Need.

Love.

I stared at him, faintly aware my mouth was hanging open as my brain  finally processed what my heart had hoped for in the most shameful, most  secret parts of my soul.

It was love that had made my husband come to this dark warehouse to get  me-love that had made him give in to blackmail, and love that had made  him somehow do the impossible and get his father to give up his empire. I  still had no idea how he had done it, but the why was so painfully  clear on his beautiful face as he watched me from across the concrete  floor.

He loved me.

The tears came then, and there was nothing I could do to stop them.

All my life I had ached to know that somewhere out there, there was one  person who would give me what I'd never had while growing up.

My mother had loved me, to some extent, but not so much that she lifted a finger to spare me from my father's brutality.

Never in a million years would I have thought I would experience that  from the man who had resented me since the day we met. The man I had run  away from and taken his baby with me.

"Please cut my wife free. You don't need her as a bargaining chip  anymore." Blaine's voice was as calm as ever, only hinting at slight  disdain. When I managed to blink the tears away and look into his eyes  again, the swirl of emotions was gone, hidden behind the mask once more.         

     



 

"Do as he says," my father grunted without looking up from the  briefcase. "He's unarmed anyway-they're not going anywhere before we're  done."

The knife finally moved from my throat, and cut through the zip-ties holding my hands together behind my back.

I bit down on a cry when blood came rushing to my fingers, aggravating  the place on both my wrists where the tie had dug in deep.

Michael repeated the process with first one, and then the other of my  ankles and then proceeded to get me out of the chair with a hard shove  against my spine.

I stumbled forward, unable to keep my balance while my feet were still  numb from the lack of circulation, but before I smacked face-first into  the concrete, strong arms closed around me, breaking my fall.

Blaine lifted me up on my reluctant feet, supporting my body against his  own. The heat from him enveloped me like a cocoon, but it was the  unwavering strength of his arms as he held me that made a wave of  overpowering relief wash over me, premature as it may be.

We might still be unarmed and at the mercy of my family, but I wasn't  alone anymore-Blaine was here. Somehow, someway, he would see us safely  out of this.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice gruff, but the tone was completely  contradicted by how gently he placed a hand on my rounded belly. "Both  of you?"

"I think so," I croaked. "Blaine, I-"

Blaine lifted the hand from my stomach to brush his finger against my  lips, silencing me. "Shh, love. We'll talk when we're home."

Right, okay. Talking through all our intimate baggage would have to wait  until we were not surrounded by enemies. I guess I could wait-not in  the least because the longer we waited, the longer it would be until I  would have to drag myself out of the fairytale where the man who loved  me had come to save me and everything would turn out alright. The harsh  reality where I had run away from him because I had seen him torture  another man could wait.

I pressed my hand tightly against my stomach and leaned in against  Blaine. He had come for me, and he would see me safely out of the  danger. For now, that was all that mattered.

Blaine held me tightly against his side while we both watched my father  and Devlen go through all the papers in the briefcase in silence. It  wasn't until Michael looked away from us to play with his knife, clearly  bored by waiting around without getting to threaten anyone, that I  realized Blaine was doing much more than waiting.

The hand he hadn't wrapped around my shoulders dug into the pocket of  his leather jacket for a moment. I could see the rectangular outline of a  phone against the leather and bit down on a small gasp.