Baldy and Scarface finally got a good look at who’d kicked down their door–and the color drained right out of their faces.
They clearly knew exactly who Cassian Rhodes was, and that they’d just royally screwed themselves.
“Mr… Mr. Rhodes! Look, this is all just a big misunderstanding!” Baldy’s voice cracked with pure terror.
Scarface was doubled over, clutching his ribs. “Please, sir, we’re sorry! We were just doing what we were told…”
How the hell had Cassian tracked them down? This place was in the ass–end of nowhere.
Rachel had been running on pure fight–or–flight mode, but seeing Cassian made everything feel unreal, like maybe she was hallucinating.
She pulled his jacket tighter around herself, her voice barely a whisper. “Tell me who hired you. Now.”
She was pretty sure she already knew, but she needed to hear them say it.
The two assholes looked at each other and stayed quiet.
Apparently they had some twisted code about not snitching on their clients.
Cassian barely lifted his hand, and his guys moved in immediately.
“Break some bones. Keep going until they feel like sharing.”
Scarface completely lost it, shaking like he was having a seizure. “Okay, okay! It was Whitney Stone and Valeria Campbell! They paid us to snatch this chick and film some nasty shit… God, we had no clue she was yours!”
“We’ll never do anything like this again, I swear! Mr. Rhodes, please! I got three kids at home!” Baldy looked ready to piss himself.
They were so fucked. How could they have been this stupid?
Cassian Rhodes was basically the boogeyman in an expensive suit. You didn’t mess with his people and live to tell about it.
Those bitches should’ve mentioned this girl was under his protection! They never would’ve touched this job if they’d known!
Cassian’s face went granite–hard. He hadn’t realized the kind of sharks swimming around Rachel.
Rachel took a couple unsteady steps back, looking like she’d been slapped.
She’d suspected it, but hearing it spelled out like that was a whole different kind of gut punch.
None of this made sense.
She’d already walked away from the Campbell family, practically declared war on her own father.
Why were they still trying to destroy her with this sick, twisted crap?
Rachel’s mouth set in a hard line, her eyes turning to steel.
If they wanted to play in the gutter, fine. She’d show them what dirty really looked like.
Cassian’s voice was ice–cold. “I’m calling the cops.”
Rachel shook her head firmly. “No. We’re not involving the police.”
Cassian stared at her. “What? Why the hell not? These pieces of shit can’t just walk away from this. Don’t worry–I’ll handle whatever comes next.”
He figured she was scared of making more enemies or something.
2202
Rachel turned to Baldy, her voice calm as death. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to call Whitney Stone right now. Tell her your little scheme blew up in your faces, and if she doesn’t want this mess going public, she needs to transfer thirty million dollars. Today.”
Everyone in that warehouse just stared at her like she’d grown a second head.
Even Cassian’s eyebrows shot up, though a slow smile started spreading across his face.
“Lady, are you out of your damn mind?” Baldy couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“You don’t really have options here. Make the call, or I dial 911 and you get to spend the next couple decades in a federal prison. Your choice.” Rachel’s tone was conversational, like she was asking about the weather.
“No, no, please! I’ll do it! I’ll call her right now!” Baldy was practically groveling on the concrete floor.
