Freya paced the living room, back and forth. She was going to wear the carpet down if she was here much longer. She’d dug out the one item of clothing that had pants. Never mind that it was a lace-covered, strapless jumpsuit. It made her feel a bit readier to run than a cocktail dress. Whatever happened, she wanted to be prepared.

Her stomach growled and her mouth was dry, yet she couldn’t bring herself to drink anything.

Jaxon hadn’t texted her. She hadn’t seen Liv yet today, either, which was odd. She should have been by already. Had Jaxon’s friend found out something about Michelle? What was going on out there?

There was a whole, wide world full of people going on about their day, and Freya was stuck inside this horrific bubble. If she disappeared today, here and now, would it matter to anyone?

It would to Jaxon.

She swallowed.

What was going on with them?

She wasn’t blind. She knew he cared about her. He was one of the few remaining good guys in the world. She’d known that after a minute spent around him way back in the beginning. He was the guy who, at the end of a long night, she’d ask to walk her to her car. He was the one who, if anything went down inside the club, she wanted to handle it. He was the one she wanted to spend time with. Get to know better.

Now she was.

Why was she balking at the idea then?

Because she knew his feelings for her were deeper. Or at least he thought they were. He’d say he loved her and then... Then things would wither and die, because love wasn’t real.

Freya groaned and rubbed her hands over her face.

She couldn’t love. She didn’t know how.

Then why bother with coffee? Why go out with him at all?

Because she was human and craved connection.

She could get that from going out with a couple girlfriends. And yet, she’d waited to go out with Jaxon, because she’d wanted her shit together. She’d looked at him and wanted to be better, to have her head in a place where she could focus on a relationship.

Why aim for more than friends?

If she truly didn’t believe in love, in being with a person, why bother?

She stared at her reflection in the tinted glass.

Deep down, did she still believe some part of her was capable of loving? Of being loved?

She’d grown up with terrible examples. She didn’t believe in being swept off her feet in a whirlwind romance, but maybe, buried in the back of her mind, a part of her still believed that love, for someone like her, was possible.

By nature, humans crave connection. Community. It was why people changed themselves, set goals and spent so much time and money attaining the next best level of who they were. Because it would attract a better mate, better peers, a more attractive community. The better chance of attracting a mate.

That’s what so much of it boiled down to. Beyond the idea of community, was the need for a partner. It was an ingrained human need.

Freya blew out a breath, creating a circle of fog on the glass.

The truth was, she’d often dreamed of her own family. Something better or at least more normal than what she’d had. It’d included a man, kids, the whole thing. But she wasn’t ready for that. Didn’t know how to be that person or if she even could. And yet, a part of her wanted to find out if she could be that version of herself.

With Jaxon.

He hadn’t told her everything about himself, but she could read between the lines. His parents were dead, and it wasn’t going to be a nice story. Somehow, he’d come out of a broken family a little dented, but good.

Could she?

Was that possible?

The Queen’s Nest door slid open, unleashing an onslaught of noise. Voices, nearly yelling, broke the still calm of her suite. Freya gaped at Yuri and another man she couldn’t name hollering at each other.

Liv stepped in, carrying a tray in her hands, her smile a bit too bright and her eyes too large.

What was going on? Michelle? Jaxon?

Freya’s stomach knotted up. She stared over Liv’s shoulder at the opening.

The door did not shut behind her.

“Where would you like this?” Liv asked over the noise. She tilted her head toward the only other door.

“Bedroom, please?” Freya glanced at the desk outside, where Jaxon sat at nights. She’d ventured out there, but no farther.

Yuri and two other men stood there, gesturing at the screens. Whatever was going on, it wasn’t good.

Freya followed Liv into the bedroom, questions bubbling up inside of her.

“What’s going on?” she whispered.

“I don’t know, but they’re talking about Jaxon and they don’t sound happy.” Liv glanced at the door, but no one followed them. “I think something bad has happened.”

She pulled out her cell phone.

“Did they find Michelle?”

“I don’t know.” Liv never took her eyes from the screen.

“What do I do?” Freya whispered.

“Nothing. Act normal. Natural.”

“Freya,” Yuri bellowed.

She flinched.

Liv grasped her by the wrist.

“Normal,” Liv whispered, then let go.

Freya turned as Yuri barreled into the bedroom, his face red, eyes wide. She took a step back, bumping into Liv.

“What do you know about Shelby Amos? Do you know her? Is she a friend of yours?” Yuri came to a stop, barely a foot from bowling over Freya.

“Who?” Freya blinked at the man. She’d expected questions about Jaxon, not Shelby.

“Shelby. The woman at the country estate in the red dress, the night the feds swooped in. That woman.” Yuri planted his hands on his hips, somehow growing larger, more menacing.

“S-Shelby? Was that her name?” Freya took a step back.

“Don’t play dumb with me.” Yuri reached out and grabbed Freya by the wrist, hauling her closer. “I’m going to make you sorry you ever decided to play this little game.”

“I don’t know who Shelby is.” Freya clawed at his hand.

“How long have you known Jaxon?”

She swallowed at the sound of his name on Yuri’s lips.

His gaze narrowed.

“How long have you been fucking Jaxon?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about...” Freya wrapped her arms around herself.

The gig was up.

Whatever opening they’d had was gone.

She should have gone with Jaxon when she had the chance.

Jaxon eyed the sidewalk full of pedestrians.

A car could totally fit there.

His phone chimed with an incoming call, vibrating in the cradle.

“It’s Aunt Liv,” Ian said.

Jaxon didn’t give a fuck if it was the President. Their window of opportunity to get to Freya was closing. Fast. If they didn’t make it there before the first shift went on duty, he wasn’t sure what their next best option would be. This whole plan was going to hell.

Ian reached over and jabbed the green answer button on the steering wheel.

“Aunt Liv—”

“Ian? Are you with him?” Aunt Liv’s voice was muffled, pitched low. The music from the club made it hard to hear her words.

Jaxon’s stomach tightened. He didn’t need to know who him was in this scenario.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Ian glanced at Jaxon. “You’re on speaker.”

“Do not come by for a visit, boys. Do not do it.” Aunt Liv enunciated each word with force behind it.

“What’s going on? What happened?”

“Is Freya okay?” Jaxon could live with a lot of things, but not if she was hurt.

“Hold on.” A metal bang in the background resounded through the car, then the club noise faded away. She must have gone out the back into the employee lot.

“Aunt Liv, we’re a couple blocks away. We’ll be there in a minute,” Jaxon said. If this damn light ever turned green long enough for him to get through.

“They saw you boys on some screens. I only glimpsed it,” Aunt Liv whispered. The beep of her car was familiar. A hard slam and all background noise ceased.

“Are you in your car? Lock the doors,” Ian said.

“I’m not a fucking idiot.” Aunt Liv blew out a breath. “They know about whatever you boys did this morning. Yuri saw Shelby on the cameras and lost his mind.”

“What? No. We were wearing masks,” Jaxon said.

“Doesn’t matter. He knew her on sight.”

“Shit. Get out of there. Now.” Jaxon eyed the sidewalk again.

“I’m not leaving Freya—”

“Jax is right, Aunt Liv. I’m sorry, but it’s too easy to connect us all, once someone knows to look.” Ian shook his head.

The cars inched forward a bit more.

“Fuck this,” Jaxon muttered.

He stomped on the gas. The BMW shot forward. He cranked the wheel, and the car bounced up over the curb. There weren’t any pedestrians between him and that alley. He jerked the wheel, Ian howling at him as the car picked up speed.

“You hear me? Get out of there, Aunt Liv,” Jaxon yelled over Ian’s curses.

The stereo beeped again.

Thomas’ name flashed across his screen.

“Don’t answer it,” Ian snapped. “Stop the fuckin’ car. Aunt Liv, go to the pub. We’ll see you later.”

“Bye, boys, be safe.” Aunt Liv hung up.

Jaxon eased the car out of the alley and into a curb side parking spot.

“What?” He shifted into park and twisted to face Ian. “What the hell are we going to do?”

“We aren’t goin’ to roll up in there like two idiots.”

“They know about me. About Shelby. About all of us. How long until Yuri retaliates? What do we do?” Jaxon scrubbed a hand over his stubble. Their plan was falling to pieces around them. “We need to call Rusty and the feds. Or let Owen handle it.”

“Let’s think about this.” Ian held up his hands. “We call the feds, what do they do? They want to verify our story, spend time spinnin’ their wheels.”

“We swat ‘em.”

“What?”

“Call in a false SWAT hit. Tell them there’s a bunch of guys with guns or a bomb or something. Kids do it all the time to their friends.”

“My kids ever do that, I’ll bust their ass.” Ian shook his head.

“We have to do something.” Jaxon stared at the steering wheel. Sending the cops in was risky, but there were too many innocents in there for the two of them to handle it. They couldn’t walk Freya out the back door on their own.

“Let’s have Aunt Liv do it,” Ian said.

“She saw the men yelling. She’s seen their guns. She’s seen Freya’s face. Yeah.” Jaxon hated this, but if SWAT responded as fast as they could, Freya could be free within the hour. “I’m going over there still. They aren’t going to get away with her.”

“I’m with you on this plan.” Ian jabbed at his phone, then pressed it to his ear.

Shelby’s name flashed across.

Shit. Jaxon should have already called her, told her what was going on.

He picked up the phone and disabled the Bluetooth.

“Shelby, hey—”

“Michelle’s gone.” Shelby huffed and puffed into the phone, as though she’d been running or something.

“What?” Jaxon sat up straighter.

“We got to a red light, she opened the door, and took off.”

“Catch her.”

“I’ve been trying to, but... She’s gone Jaxon. I don’t know where she is.”

“Shit.”

“Were you able to get Freya?”

“No, Yuri’s team saw us. He recognized you.”

“Oh, fuck...”

Yeah, Jaxon’s thoughts exactly.

Michelle was gone, and Freya might be beyond their reach soon.

Yuri zoomed in on the map. She’d said—

“Here. Slow down,” he said to Sergi, his driver, one of the few people who’d been with Yuri for years.

A thin, slip of a woman darted out from the pedestrian traffic, practically launching herself at the car. She yanked the back door open and slid in next to Yuri.

“What the fuck?” Michelle shoved her sunglasses up and blinked at him.

“Is raccoon in season?” Yuri flicked his fingers at the driver to keep going.

“You know what—fuck you. I was yanked out of bed by people with guns, Yuri. Guns.”

“I am well aware.”

“Oh, right, because of your peeping tom cams. Awesome. Where the fuck were your goons?”

“Otherwise indisposed.” Yuri glanced at his phone. His contacts at the police department were working overtime right now.

“These guys thought they were saving me. What the hell, Yuri? What’s going on?”

“Nothing to be concerned about.”

“Nothing to—what?” Michelle’s voice continued to rise in pitch. She really was nothing like her sister, despite outward appearances.

“There have been some setbacks.”

A text vibrated his phone.

Ah. There.

It’s handled.

Yuri breathed a sigh of relief, though he’d never admit that.

The Swan Palace was compromised. After today, he’d distance himself. Cut his losses. But he needed a little more time to maneuver. Then he needed money.

Both of his problems could be taken care of from this car.

Time would be bought with a few phone calls. Seeing as the Palace serviced a number of influential people, it was simply a matter of putting the right people onto it.

The cops would not dare step foot in the Palace today.

As for money, he had both twins.

“Are you even listening to me?” Michelle leaned across and jabbed Yuri in the arm.

“I would suggest you keep your hands to yourself.” He slowly turned to stare at her. “I know about your plans. Why you want your sister out of the way. It’s not very original, Michelle.”

“What do you know?” Her words were bold, but she flinched away from him.

“That your mother left your sister and you a sizeable inheritance. That the conditions to satisfy the two stipulations are marriage and visiting family you’ve never seen before. You’re planning on taking your cut and your sister’s, aren’t you?”

“No.” Michelle crossed her arms over her chest.

“Yes, you were. Don’t play stupid, it doesn’t suit you.”

“So, what of it?”

“What if I were to tell you that I’d let you keep your share, if you do me a favor?”

“Like what?” Michelle leaned back.

Yuri couldn’t leave anyone alive who could further damage his reputation. This had to be handled, and swiftly.

“Pretend to be your sister.”

“Why?”

“Because someone has to be bait.”

Freya peered out of the bedroom into the empty living room.

The door was closed. It hadn’t opened since Yuri and Liv left her here.

She darted into the bathroom and snatched up the phone, powering it on. She had to know what was going on out there. She couldn’t be left in the dark. She’d waited. Been patient. But nothing was happening.

Freya dialed Jaxon’s number from memory and pressed the phone to her ear.

It rang once.

“Are you okay?” Jaxon asked.

“What’s going on?” She kept her voice low as she paced the bathroom.

“Aunt Liv left.” Jaxon paused. Was there something he didn’t want to tell her? “We called SWAT over an hour ago about a bomb threat but no one has shown up.”

“What about Michelle?”

“We found her.”

“Is she safe? Is she okay?”

“She... She ran away from us. Shelby explained it all to her, but the minute they pulled up at a red light, Michelle ran off.”

“What? Why?” Freya stopped on the bathroom rug. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Michelle would be shocked, distraught. She’d expect someone to save her, to rescue her from the situation, and then she’d let others do the figuring out of things. She wasn’t the kind of person to run.

“Could Yuri have threatened her?” Freya tried to fit the puzzle pieces together.

“That she had to stay at that apartment to keep you safe? Then why not tell us that?” Jaxon sighed. “I don’t know, Freya, but we’re getting you out of there. Today. Tonight. Soon. Then we’ll find Michelle.”

Freya bit her lip. She didn’t want to be here, and if Michelle was running off...

Was something else going on?

Freya wanted to believe that Michelle would value her sister’s life, but Freya wasn’t so certain. Michelle wasn’t a bad person, but she’d bought into the idea of looking out for number one. Freya doubted she rated second on Michelle’s list.

“Freya? You there?”

“I’m here.”

“I know you don’t want to leave unless Michelle’s safe, but...”

“Come get me,” she said.

“Best words I’ve heard all day.” His voice dropped a bit.

Freya should have gone with Jaxon last night. She should have taken the opportunity to escape when she had it, instead of following through on this misguided idea of protecting her sister. Yes, she would do everything possible to help Michelle. She was her twin. But at the cost of her own life? No. Not when Jaxon and others were endangering themselves to help her.

She swallowed and leaned against the vanity.

They deserved a chance. She might not have a grasp on what love felt like, what it looked like, but they should at least get a shot at finding out. If anyone deserved for her to care about them, it was Jaxon.

“Hey, when this is over—”

The Queen’s Next door beeped.

She started.

The door whooshed open in the next room.

She yanked the vanity drawer open and shoved the phone in the back of it.

“Freya?” Yuri bellowed.

She stepped out of the bathroom and across to the dresser where her breakfast still sat.

Yuri stopped just inside the door and crooked his finger at her.

“What?” she asked.

Yuri turned and disappeared into the living room. Did she stay here? Or did she do as she was told?

It didn’t take a genius to realize that she was treading on thin ice. In the best interest of protecting herself, she needed to comply with Yuri’s wishes. At least until Jaxon busted in here and kicked his ass. She dearly hoped that happened.

Freya followed in Yuri’s wake.

Thomas stood inside the Queen’s Nest door, and Yuri was at the bar, pouring himself another drink.

She knew it was barely four o’ clock, from having looked at the phone. Too early for a visit. Too late for a meal.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Change of plans.” Yuri pivoted to face her, one elbow on the bar, glass in hand. “You’re going to take a little trip with me.”

“What? Where?” She took a step back.

The phone was in the bathroom.

The phone with the tracker.

“You’re the more valuable sister.” Yuri poured himself another drink.

“What did you do to Michelle?”

“Nothing, though it’s sweet you think I’d have to do anything to her.” Yuri tossed back the drink. “She was quite willing to help us along.”

“Willing isn’t what I’d call this.” Michelle stepped into the Queen’s Nest, but she didn’t glance at Freya.

“Michelle? Are you okay?” Freya took a few steps toward her sister, the rest of the room fading away, but stopped when Michelle wouldn’t look at her. “Michelle?”

“I have to do this, Freya,” Michelle said without ever looking at her.

“What? What are you doing?” Freya glanced from Michelle to Yuri and back again.

Arms closed around Freya’s shoulders and a hand clapped over her mouth. She rammed her head back against the person.

“Stop,” Yuri yelled.

The click of something metallic made her blood run cold.

“I appreciate your spirit, Freya, but it’s becoming annoying.” Yuri held a gun in hand. “Remember, either twin would do.”

“Oh, thanks,” Michelle said.

“You. Keep your mouth shut,” Yuri said. “Thomas—”

“On the sofa,” the man holding Freya said.

Michelle stalked forward and swiped a phone off the pink sofa.

“What am I saying?” she asked followed by a petulant sigh.

This was what being around Michelle was like. The constant demand for more, the acting out to get her way. Michelle had never grown up. Never owned her actions. Never seen the need to because there was always someone else around to pick up the slack for her.

Like Freya.

She closed her eyes.

“I need you to call your sister’s boyfriend off. Call Jaxon, tell him you got the phone and someone said you’re about to take a trip.”

“But, we are taking a trip,” Michelle said.

“Do as you’re told,” Yuri snapped.

“Fine.”

“Make it sound convincing. Scared. Squeeze out a few tears.” Yuri shrugged.

“Freya doesn’t cry.” Michelle screwed her face up. “She doesn’t care about people. Only the dead ones.”

“Make the fucking call.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Michelle cleared her throat and dropped onto the sofa, shoulders slumping. She was nothing, if not a convincing actress if it meant she’d get her way.

They all waited, the sound of ringing barely audible.

Freya’s sister was part of this, not a victim.

Did she know what Yuri wanted her to do?

Freya wouldn’t wish Charles on her worst enemy, and she was here because of her sister. It was too much to wrap her head around in these few moments.

“Jaxon?” Michelle’s voice broke. “I hope you get this in time. They said they’re taking me somewhere. I don’t know where. Jaxon? Please, call me back. I’m scared.”

Freya’s blood went cold listening to the sob job her sister was laying down. She called Jaxon Jax most of the time, but would he notice the difference?

“There.” Michelle tossed the phone down on the coffee table with a bang.

“What’s going on?” That cool, calm voice made what wasn’t already cold turn to ice.

All gazes went to the door.

Charles stood in the opening. All pretenses of being friendly were gone. Instead, she could see the cold, hard killer staring out. The man he was, under all of what he tried to hide.

“Charles. You’re early.” Yuri set his glass on the bar. “I’m protecting your investment.”

“What the hell is this?” Charles gestured at Michelle, then Freya.

“Well, you wanted to marry and kill Freya, I thought this was a good half-way point solution.” Yuri spread his hands. “The price goes up.”

“I don’t want to murder my wife,” Charles said.

“What? You married him already?” Michelle’s jaw dropped and she glanced from Charles to Freya and back.

“Honestly, Charles, I don’t have time for this right now.” Yuri pressed his fingers to his temples.

Freya stared at Charles, her mind whirling. Was this her way out?

“I want to know what the hell is going on here, Yuri. This isn’t what I paid for. Are you trying to switch them out on me?” Charles planted his hands on his hips.

“You know what? Get out.” Yuri waved toward the door. “Thomas?”

Thomas shoved Freya aside. She stumbled into the wall, bracing herself against it with a hand.

Charles didn’t move. Didn’t flinch.

Thomas reached toward Charles.

Charles...

It was a blur. He moved so fast.

Freya saw the glint of light off metal, heard a grunt. Michelle screamed and clawed her way across the sofa, away from Charles and Thomas.

Yuri yelled.

Thomas fell to the carpet, hands at his throat.

Oh, god...

A man tackled Charles to the ground.

Freya was going to be sick.

She stared at the slowly growing crimson stain on the pale carpet. The noise of the other two men from outside wrestling Charles to the ground was so distant. As though she were in a tunnel and it was all far away.

There was no way Yuri’s carpet people could get that out. That was a lot of blood.

“Come on.” Yuri grabbed her under the arm, hauling her the few steps through the Queen’s Nest door. “Don’t kill him. Catch and release. He’s too good of a customer.”

She stumbled after him, not making any sense of Yuri’s words.

Charles had just killed Yuri’s assistant, and he didn’t want to lose a customer?

What kind of reality did these people live in?

Yuri hauled her into a tiny elevator.

“If you’re going to be sick, do it downstairs,” he said.

She leaned against the cool metal, her skin hot and clammy.

“What—what are you going to do with me? Michelle? What’s happening?”

“You’re worth more to me alive than dead.”

Freya didn’t know if that was a good thing, or very bad.