CHAPTER 206 Good News, Bad News
*Joy*
The hospital doors hissed open, spilling sterile fluorescent light onto the sidewalk where Liam's car and two others were waiting. Kiki pushed my wheelchair with a practiced ease, her boots scuffing softly against the ground, but her eyes darted like a hawk’s, scanning for threats—my bandaged ankle a dull reminder of the threats we’d barely escaped. In my earpiece, Dina’s voice crackled, sharp and electric, cutting through the haze of painkillers my doctor prescribed for me.
“Heads up, team! Liam just called Link, barking orders to draft papers transferring *most* of his assets to Virtue. He's clearly spooked about something. The audio bug you slipped into his jacket pocket is working like a charm, Miss JT.” Dina’s enthusiasm was infectious, but her next words sent a chill down my spine. “Oh, and get this, I caught Noah skulking around the hospital earlier. He poked around for fifteen minutes, then bolted back to his truck and peeled out. I’m tracking him now. He’s headed home. Probably primping for this sham of a wedding.”
I gripped the armrests of the wheelchair, my knuckles whitening. Noah was a loose cannon; his earlier stunt in the commercial complex's parking lot still had me grasping for answers. Before I could respond, a new voice cut in—Jake, his baritone heavy with unease.
“Dina, it’s Jake. Bad news. Noah spotted me slipping out of the hospital director’s office. I’m pretty sure he thinks I… handled the doc. I’m gonna lay low, head to Mandan.”
“No, don’t!” I blurted, forgetting myself. The words echoed in the humid air, and I froze. Liam was right behind us, his polished loafers clicking on the pavement. My heart slammed against my ribs as I felt his gaze bore into the back of my head.
“Don’t what, darling?” Liam’s voice was honey-smooth, but it carried an edge, like a blade wrapped in silk. He thought I was talking to him. My mind raced for a cover as I twisted in the chair, forcing a saccharine smile. I reached for his hand, my fingers brushing his clammy palm.
“Don’t walk so far behind me,” I purred, batting my lashes to sell the lie. “I miss you already.” *Shit*. My nerves were fraying, and I needed to clamp down on my tongue before I blew everything.
Liam’s lips curled into a self-satisfied smirk, but his eyes lingered on me a fraction too long, searching for cracks. “Always so needy, pumpkin.” He squeezed my hand, and I fought the urge to recoil.
In my ear, Sam’s gravelly voice cut through the tension. “Jake, scrap Mandan. Head back to Bo’s. Beaufort’s on his way back. Bad news: De Luca’s down for the count. Good news: they’ve got eyes on Pete McDowell.”
I stifled a grimace. The original plan hinged on staging Liam’s murder, faking an abduction, and pinning it all on Pete. But with Pete slipping our grasp, we were improvising on a razor’s edge. One wrong move, and the whole operation would collapse like a house of cards.
At the curb, Henry waited beside a gleaming black BMW, his posture rigid, like a soldier awaiting orders. Behind him, two sleek sedans idled, their tinted windows reflecting the overcast sky like obsidian mirrors. The air smelled of rain and exhaust, and a distant siren wailed, amplifying the knot in my stomach.
Liam clapped a hand on Henry’s shoulder, all charm and control. “You’re both getting ready at the mansion. We’ll swing by your shop to grab what you need before heading to Prairie Hill. By the way, do we need to make a stop at the Ol’ Taylor House?”
Kiki’s jaw tightened, but she answered before I could. “No need. We were planning to prep at Virtue’s. I’ve got everything under control.” Her tone was clipped, barely masking her frustration. She was thinking about her gear—knives, comms, maybe even the compact pistol she kept strapped to her thigh. Leaving it behind wasn’t an option. "And Chip—"
Liam’s smile didn’t waver, but his eyes glinted with something predatory as he cut in. “Actually, I spoke to Chip already. He agrees you’re safer at the mansion. Better security, less… unpredictability.”
My stomach lurched. Xavier was supposed to brief us at my shop before we headed to the mansion. Liam’s insistence on controlling every detail was suffocating, and there was no way to argue without raising suspicion—especially if Cristos had already caved.
“Kiki’s just worried about my gown,” I said, forcing a laugh that sounded brittle even to me. “It’s delicate, you know?”
Liam’s grin widened, and he gestured to the sedans. “That’s why I brought backup. We’ll transport your gown in one of the other cars—safe and sound. As for hair and makeup, Sandra’s already at the mansion, ready to work her magic. So, Kiki, we good?”
Kiki nodded, her smile as fake as a three-dollar bill. I could practically hear her cursing in her head. Without her full kit, she’d be operating half-blind, and that was a death sentence in our line of *work*.
Liam’s phone pinged, and he glanced at the screen, his expression unreadable. “Lisa’s texting. She’s en route from Bismarck to New Salem. How about I invite her to get ready at the mansion with you two?”
“Sure,” I said quickly, shooting Kiki a warning glance. She was about to protest—I could see it in the twitch of her lips—but we couldn’t afford to tip Liam off. “I could use the extra hands. Doc says I need to stay off this foot.”
Liam nodded, satisfied, and motioned to Henry, who sprang into action, opening the rear door of the second sedan. “Your driver’s Tom,” Liam said, his voice dripping with faux chivalry. “He’ll take care of everything.”
I frowned, tilting my head. “I thought I’d be riding with you.”
“Tradition, my sweet.” Liam bent down, brushing a kiss across my knuckles. His breath was warm, tinged with the smell of coffee and mint. “Bride and groom stay apart before the vows. Claire’s waiting at the mansion to show you to your rooms. Lunch will be served there, too—something light, to keep you radiant.”
I forced a smile, resisting the urge to scrub my hand against my skirt. “You think of everything, don’t you?”
“Always.” He straightened, his silhouette framed against the brooding sky, and for a moment, he looked like a king surveying his kingdom. "Alright then. I'll see you both at the mansion." With a wave goodbye, he turned and sauntered to his BMW, leaving Henry to assist us.
Kiki and Henry helped me slide into the sedan’s backseat, my bandage making the maneuver awkward. The leather smelled new, and the air was frigid from the AC. Kiki climbed in beside me, her movements fluid but tense, like a panther caged. Tom, a wiry man with a buzzcut and eyes that didn’t blink enough, shut the door with a soft click. The car purred to life, and I pulled out my phone, my thumbs flying over the screen as I texted Kiki: “*Pack what you can*. *Liam’s not here to check*.”
She glanced at her phone, her lips quirking into a grim smile. Her reply buzzed back: “*Already planning to stuff this car with every damn thing I can carry*.”
As we merged onto the main road, the hospital shrinking in the rearview, I leaned back, my mind churning. Liam’s sudden changes to the plan were more than control—they were a trap, or at least a test. Noah’s hospital visit gnawed at me, too. Was he onto us? And Pete McDowell’s escape threw a wrench into everything. The wedding was hours away, and the mansion was Liam’s domain—his cameras, his guards, his rules.
Kiki’s hand brushed mine, a silent promise that she’d have my back, gear or not. Outside, storm clouds thickened, and a low rumble of thunder echoed my unease. Whatever came next, we’d need to be sharper than ever. Because in this game, hesitation wasn’t just a mistake—it was a death warrant.
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