Page 73 of Claimed By the Damned
But I don’t.
Because rage is useless without precision. And I am nothing if not precise.
I set the glass down, exhaling slowly, evenly. My focus shifts, fury hardening into something colder, sharper, moredangerous.
I let her have her fun. Allowed freedom, indulged the foolish rebellion. Patiently watching, waiting for reason. But reason failed her. Now, it's over.
The waiting is over.
She has defied me for long enough. Playing her little game tested the limits of my patience.
Now, it is my turn.
I push back from my desk, rising to my feet as the pieces begin falling into place. A plan has always been there, lingering in the background.When.How.The intel from my mole has provided the perfect blueprint: their shift changes, the precise moment their guard is lowest, the specific entry point he has secured.
Now I have my answer.
Lila will come home. Whether she walks or bleeds, whether she begs or screams, it doesn’t matter.
Because in the end, there has only ever been one outcome.
She ismine.
The dim glow of the overhead light casts long shadows across the mahogany desk. My fingers tap against the surface in a slow, deliberate rhythm as I reach for the phone. Control settles over me like a second skin—tight, unshakable.
No more waiting.
I dial the number, bringing the receiver to my ear. The voice on the other end is hushed, expectant.
"Is it time?"
A slow smirk curls my lips. "Yes, but no mistakes this time."
"Understood." A inhale follows the silence.
"Our man inside. He’s in position?" I lean back, the leather groaning. "The access point he confirmed, the rear service door, cameras disabled during their late-night system reboot, is still our primary entry?"
"Ready when you are. He confirms the reboot sequence begins in ten minutes. We have a seven-minute window before their system comes back online with heightened alerts."
Perfect.Like clockwork. My inside man has not only bypassed their supposed state-of-the-art security but has also mapped their response protocols. These brutes playing house withmywife? They are predictable. They won't know what hit them.
“Proceed with the ambush.” My voice is cold steel. "Swift, overwhelming force. Utilize the schematics he provided for interior movement. No hesitation. I want her secured beforethey even react." The reward... worth every drop oftheirblood. It isn't desperation—it is inevitability. The tide pulling her back.
"She will resist," the voice offers cautiously.
My laugh is soft, almost indulgent. "Of course she will. Resistance is... temporary."
My free hand curls into a fist, the sudden reminder that sheran, that shechosedefiance, tightening a noose around my throat. My vision blurs—
The glass shatters in my grip. Blood wells up in my hand.
Silence stretches, thick and humming over the line. I force my breathing to slow, uncurling my bloodied but steady hand. The anger slithers back beneath my skin, contained.
"Prepare the team," I say smoothly, as if nothing happened. "Crucially: Lila is pregnant." I let the words hang, heavy with implication. "Withmychild. My heir. So, she must be retrieved completelyunharmed. Understand? No marks, no risks to her or the child. Any action,anyforce directed ather, that could possibly risk the pregnancy is absolutely forbidden. Her pathetic defiance is a matter forme, later. Is that clear?"
A beat of silence. "...Clear. Completely unharmed." Then, the inevitable question follows, laced with professional caution, "And the men protecting her? What are the Rules of Engagement?"
"Them?" My lip curls slightly. "They are obstacles. Remove them. Lethal force is authorized if necessary, but subduing them quickly and efficiently is preferred. Focus on disabling, not killing, unless unavoidable. I want them to witness her return to me. I don't care how, just get them out of the way." I pause, anticipating his next question.
