Twisted (Never After #4)(95)

“Where is she?” I bite out.

Ian chuckles.

For the first time in as long as I can remember, I feel helpless, lost to the demands of someone I foolishly trusted for years, never thinking that he would betray me. But I should know by now that people are fallible, and even the ones who I think will choose me still won’t put me above themselves.

“She’s fine. And it’s pathetic you care. Who have you turned into, Julian?”

“If you touch her…” I pause, my throat swelling from the panic of not being able to see her, touch her, feel her.

I would rather light myself on fire than allow her to experience another ounce of pain because of my selfishness and greed.

“Oh, please. You’ve grown soft,” Ian hisses. “And the most disgusting part is that I saw it coming from a mile away. Knew it was happening from the second you chastised me like a child for calling the bitch what she is.”

I clench my jaw so tightly my mouth aches. “What do you want?”

“The lamp, obviously,” he drawls.

My brows draw down in confusion.

“I know she has it, and while I would have loved to stick around and search your house myself, time was of the essence. But if you want the girl, you need to give me the lamp. Simple.” I shake my head, because Yasmin having the lamp? Impossible.

Her phone vibrates on the table next to me, and I glance down as it lights up, Riya flashing across the screen.

“What are you talking about? She doesn’t have the lamp. Why would she?”

“I know what I heard,” he says. “And I don’t care to hear your theories. They frustrate me. I’d hate to take it out on her. I have years of repressed aggression that you wouldn’t let me get out, just dying to be set free.”

Bile rises in the back of my throat. “I’m going to enjoy killing you.”

He laughs again. “You’ve always been so dramatic. Isn’t that what you said to me once? Well, boss, let’s see just how dramatic I can be. We’re at the warehouse. You know, the one where you stow the guns to trade for diamonds? I wouldn’t call for backup or else Sultans will go down in flames when I show them everything illegal you have going on here.”

I laugh darkly, murderous rage thrumming through me until it bleats against my skull. “I don’t need backup to find you, friend.”

“You have until the end of the day. Darryn and I will be waiting.” Click.

Darryn. Fucking. Anders.

I should have known. I throw my phone across the room. If she did have the lamp, then I will tear this house apart to find it. Darryn and Ian, that traitorous little fuck, can have it as long as I get her back.

Her phone vibrates again, and I silence it, but then the doorbell rings. Groaning in frustration, I walk to the front and swing it open, then stop short when a pretty woman is standing there with her hand poised to knock on the door.

She lifts a brow and looks me up and down. “You’re not Yas.”

Impatience wrings my nerves tight, because I don’t have time for this, but she doesn’t give me the opportunity to send her away as she pushes past me and walks inside, looking around.

“Where is she?”

“Who the hell are you?” I hiss.

She looks at me and points a finger at her chest. “I’m Riya. Yasmin’s best friend. She never mentioned me?” Scoffing, she shakes her head. “Typical. Listen, I don’t know what you did to her, Julian, but she called me in a panic.”

I clench my jaw, remembering the will that was laid out on my desk, my heart fracturing with the thought that she’s hurt somewhere, because of me, and thinking I was planning to betray her this entire time.

Racing forward, I grip Riya’s arms tightly. She screeches and fights in my hold, but I tighten my grip. “Did she tell you about a lamp?”

“Get the fuck off me, dude.”

“Listen.” I shake her slightly. “This isn’t a time for games. Someone has taken her, okay? They’re hurting her. And if I don’t get the lamp to them, I can’t save her.”

She stops fighting, suspicion blazing through her eyes. “How do I know to trust you?”

I swallow around the thick knot in my throat. “Because I love her. Please.”

She’s silent for a few minutes before she nods, licking her lips. “Okay, yeah…yeah, she said she had the lamp.”

The words aren’t even fully out of her mouth before I’m dropping her arms and racing up the stairs into our bedroom, ready to tear the world apart to find it. My eyes immediately zone in on her suitcase, remembering her not wanting anyone to look through it except for me.

Slamming it down on the ground, I rip open the top and dive my hands into it, my fingers hitting a hard object almost immediately. My breath whooshes out of me as I pull out the silver case, Sultans’ logo on the front, and I bring it to my lap.

Jesus Christ. How did she even get this?

My hands shake as I open it, seeing the object that’s been my desire for years for the first time and a note tucked into the side of the case.

Keep it safe. Use it to gain your freedom.— Jeannie





Of course. Jeannie must have found it and given it to her when we were in Egypt.

I stare at the object I’ve been lusting after for years, expecting to feel a pang of something.