Chapter 27 Mother Knows Best

Nicholas

Every day for the past two weeks, each one of his wildest fantasies of her had turned to reality, they had been making love or fucking every chance they got. Usually, when they find themselves alone and in private, one heated look from her and he would be all over her delectable body. They had christened almost every car he owned, his office amenities, and every nook and cranny in their master suite.

Giving her a break this morning, knowing they both had a lot on their plates, him with his businesses and club while Sinclair with her studies and wedding preparations, he retired to the club's manor, mostly to check their combined assets and wait for further information about the gang they were after.

Surprisingly, he found Sandringham on one of the office desks reviewing documents. The marquis glanced up, grunted a greeting then went back to reading.

Lucien shrugged at Nicholas's unasked question, his attention went back to his proper English breakfast.

They had merged their businesses turning them into a multi-trillion dollar company. From schools, hospitals, cargo, and shipping lines, hotels, and restaurants, constructions and telecommunications, real estate, airlines, and car manufacture, they had it all. Sharing the load, hiring CEOs and lawyers to help them oversee the corporations all over the world.

The viscount went to his desk -he would always smile at the memory of Sinclair sprawled naked and panting beneath him in one- he pulled out some papers and turned on his laptop.

For an hour or so, the only sounds can be heard at the massive study were the scratch of pens on papers and fingers tapping the keyboards. Cerdic and Huntley had joined them before luncheon.

"Fuck!" Sandringham groaned after a moment. His blond head smacking on the table in frustration.

"What?" Huntley asked.

"My sister is driving me crazy," he gritted through his teeth.

"About what?" Cerdic was surprised by his friend's words.

"She told me last night, she was ready to entertain possible suitors after her graduation." His face hardened. Loathing the idea.

Nicholas commiserated. Lady Louise was a gem and a beautiful proper lady of excellent breeding. Rich and influential. Vivacious with a heart of gold. -Sinclair's words, not his.- He trusted her judgment since she and the lady in question had gotten very close. "Why is it a problem?" He questioned. Puzzled. He had approved excellent suitors for his sisters and they were now enjoying married lives.

"The fucking problem is, no one is good enough for her!" Sandringham growled. "With what's happening all around us, I couldn't just entrust my sister's life to anyone." Silence greeted his outburst. They knew where the Marquis was coming from. He was a very overprotective brother to his only sister. "At the same time, I want her to be happy and marry well so that I could bloody concentrate on searching for my marchioness."

"Don't worry, Sandringham. Your sister is very smart. She will choose the right man for her." Cerdic murmured before going back to his work, his face grave and serious.

"Why don't we check on Tanning to release some tension," Huntley said after a moment.

Surprisingly, the old lecher had survived despite his wounds. Not without doc's treatment, he wouldn't.

"Yes. We need him to answer some questions. I am tired of this waiting game. Come on." The duke said. Slamming his computer shut, stood up and exited the office.

"What has crawled up his ass?" Sandringham asked no one in particular.

Viscount Redington, a keen observer, in love and knowing the signs of it, has an idea but he wouldn't spoil the surprise. Let the marquis discover it on his own.

***

Lucifer was at the warehouse, prowling, hanging on by a thread. He had wanted to skin the prisoner alive since the raid. "Took you long enough." He growled, his face was taut and he looked like he hadn't had a good sleep in a while. All he had talked about was avenging his son. The boy was tough but the ordeal he experienced made him fear the people around him. He hated being touched. Refuses to sleep, screaming constantly when he does; plagued by his nightmares, reliving the times he was held captive.

The devil's son needed therapy. Huntley had recommended the best psychiatrist they could find, only to realize it was not enough. Hoping for the best, they let the little boy spend some time in the orphanage to mingle with other children who had the same experience. It was a struggle nonetheless. He hardly talked to anyone except his father and the members of the club who saved him.

"He is all yours when we are done," Cerdic assured him. They proceeded to the warehouse where they kept their prisoners. Behind the large two-way mirror, they could easily see Lord Tanning huddled in one corner, trembling, most likely from high fever, he was sweating like a swine, his thinning blond hair matted and disheveled, dull blue eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot, totally naked with only his crotch patched with blood crusted bandages. His wrists and ankles were tied from the concrete walls, giving him limited movements. A taste of his own medicine. No one felt pity. The pedophile deserved more.

"And he's awake," Huntley said. Proud of his work. "I'll go in first. Let me check his state of mind."

Though they wanted nothing more than to create as much damage to the prisoner as they could, they needed answers. Cerdic nodded. They watched the doctor approached Tanning.

From the microphone inside the cell, they could hear EJ's voice asking the man on the ground some questions. Satisfied with the answers, he gave an imperceptible nodded.

Sandringham, heavily built and all muscles entered first, his peers stood at the corners. With not much effort, ignoring the grunts of pain from their captive, he dragged the old baron to a chair and forcefully pushed him down. "Stay or I'll break your arm. I'll break it anyway if you refuse to answer my questions." His threat more potent because he said it with a chilling smile.

They could hear heavy breathing, suddenly the old fucker started bawling.

-Fucking pathetic.- Nicholas thought.

"Give us the names of the lords who are involved and I will make it easy for you." The marquis asked softly, perched on the table, he pulled out a knife.

"I...I...don't...know," Tanning sobbed harder.

"You are going to lie to me?" Jared arched a brow. "Did you hear that Cerdic? The good baron doesn't know."

"Cut his finger then. Maybe he'd remember." The duke answered.

They all snickered. "Wait. Let me do it." Lucifer said. Eager to get started.

"By all means," Sandringham gestured to where the prisoner was seating.

"No...no...no...please," Tanning cried. Dismissing his pleas, Lucifer grabbed his hand and placed it flat on the stainless table. The knife was deliberately left dull so the cutting of flesh took time, inflicting more pain.

The old baron was thrashing and screaming before his severed thumb dropped on the floor. EJ immediately cauterized his wound.

"That is just a taste." Jared, the Marquis of Sandringham, warned. "Now, give us what we want and we will be merciful."

"Please...just kill me," Spit covered his chapped lips, a far cry from the distinguished lord he presented himself in the ton.

"Why? Did you show mercy to my son? To your captives?" Lucifer growled.

"I...I'm...sorry."

"You are only sorry you got caught." The devil added.

"Paul...he is...part...of...it...he knows. I'm simply a buyer. Please...believe...me." He begged.

The name alone triggered Nicholas's rage. "Where is he, old man?" He moved closer and picked up the bloody knife.

Tanning was shaking his head, refusing to tell then more. Having no patience, Nicholas cut the lecher's forefinger in a flash, making him scream when he realized what happened. The bluntness of the knife was no match for the viscount's strength.

"Ire...land...cabin...north...Pine's village." Fuck! A location at last.

"That was easy," The marquis chuckled. "And we are just starting. Imagine what I could do to you."

Viscount Redington went back to the side of the room, leaving his friend, Jared, to asked more questions. The insistent ringing of his cell phone made him frown. Locking eyes with Lucien, he signaled he had to step out of the room for a few minutes. Not waiting for an answer, thinking it might be urgent, he answered his phone.

"Sweetheart..." Redington's voice softened as soon as he realized who was calling him. There was silence, then he heard screaming.

"Nick! Help me!" Sinclair's voice was panicked. She was breathing hard like she had been running.

"Fuck! Where are you?" He shouted, walking to the building's entrance ready to leave the place.

"They found me. Nick! Help! -Give me that fucking phone, you bitch!-"

A familiar voice said in anger. She screamed once more then the line went dead.

"Sinclair!" He roared. He heard footsteps running to him, weapons were drawn, his peers scattered, looking for the immediate threat, then they turned to him, waiting. Questions in their eyes.

After a paralyzing moment, his heart aching, the viscount whispered. "She was taken. The son of a bitch took her."

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Sinclair

Earlier In The Day

Planning a wedding was not a joke. She had been to endless fittings, bridal demos, wardrobe selections, lectures of her duties as a lady of the ton, including her roles in the family business, especially the schools, lunches with the dowagers, and formal dinners held by them to introduce her to people that mattered, making her head spin.

Nicholas kept her grounded. Never leaving her side especially during formal banquets and balls. His mother, sisters, and Lady Louise were great companions too. Always encouraging the bridal gown selections. So far, she hadn't picked the right gown yet.

Brides must have felt something when they tried the one gown that made them all teary-eyed and say YES.

She just doesn't feel IT. Today, they were scheduled for another fitting and she was getting tired just by thinking about it.

Sinclair wished Nicholas was here. They had been parted for hours. She missed him. Becoming a clingy fiancee made her cringed. He loved it though. Saying, he felt the same. They couldn't keep their hands off each other. That day in his office was so memorable. After they indulged another round on the divan, they dressed and went home, continuing their activities on their bed. He was insatiable and equally crazy for her. She loved him more for it.

Unfortunately, their work and schedule were piling up so they decided to part for today.

Nicholas continued to surround her with bodyguards. No use in placing a curb on his possessive protectiveness, he wouldn't budge anyway. If it made him happy, gave him a sense of peace, she would tolerate it.

They were now in West London, at an exclusive Versace store for a private fitting. Her future in-laws and Lady Louise, huddle on a comfortable white couch, while Melody and Monica attending to their needs. Pink champagne in flutes and hors d'oeuvres being served by attendants while they wait for Sinclair to emerged from the dressing room for the fifth time with Michael, the owner himself, overseeing the fittings. Excitement filled the air. The dresses she had on earlier were all one-of-a-kind creations, not in the market for the general public.

There were two more gowns on the mannequins. Sinclair was biting her lips, skeptical. One was made in a Chantilly lace with an outlined pattern and abundant detail, thin, barely noticeable straps, deep round neckline, and semi-corseted top that was doing wonders to her small bust, accentuating her small waist and rounded hips, flowing elegantly to the floor. The last option was a mermaid dress made in rich white satin, a Bateau neckline, with an eye-catching backless patterned with white natural pearls, and sparkling Swarovsky crystals.

When she tried them on, her breath faltered, knowing she had the right dresses. The latter for the ceremony and the former for the reception. Emerging from the dressing room, walking towards the girls, tears filled her soft brown eyes from their gasped of approval.

"You look so beautiful, Sin," Louise said with a shaky smile.

"This is the one," She whispered. She could already imagine Nicholas's reaction.

"The family pearls will go so well with that dress," The dowager exclaimed. Her dark gaze sparked with happiness. "We will get them all, Michael." She told the designer, referring to his Spring and Summer collection.

He grinned, nodding. "I will make sure to have everything ready a week before the wedding." He promised before clapping his hands in admiration of Sinclair, making the gown more notable and eye-catching because of the elegant way she was wearing his exclusive design. After the brief celebration, Sinclair returned to the dressing room to change into her pair of skinny jeans and cotton blouse, leaving her PA and Melody to make the final sale. Patting her high ponytail into place, applying another layer of lip gloss, she was ready to meet the wedding planners for the food tasting at Therese's restaurant. Smiling serenely, she went back to the spacious gallery where everyone was waiting.

Puzzled, her steps faltered. The room was too quiet, slowing her movements, she gave a small cry. Shocked to witness everyone began dropping to the floor, unconscious and gasping for air. Oh, no! She was the only one left standing. Fear slithered down her spine. -Where are their bodyguards?-

"Did you think I would forget you, daughter?" A woman said with a malicious laugh.

Sylvia.

"I am here to make you my slave, pet." declared another voice.

Paul.

She ran to the back of the store, praying she could escape in time, call Nicholas and get help.

Only her prayers were not answered in time.

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