The Brother I Was Never Supposed to Want

Chapter 37

The Brooklyn brownstone looked ordinary from the street.

Brick. Iron railing. A single light in an upstairs window. No cars parked too close. No obvious guards.

Nathan knew better.

He stood across the street in the rain, black coat collar turned up, eyes fixed on the building like it had personally offended him. Three of his men waited in the shadows. Two more covered the alley. Marco was already inside the neighboring building, cutting the external cameras.

“Two men on the first floor,” Marco’s voice murmured through the earpiece. “One near the back door. Heat signatures upstairs, three bodies. One smaller. Stationary.”

Ava.

Nathan’s jaw locked. “We go quiet. No shots unless necessary. I want her out before Rossi even knows we’re here.”

He checked his watch.

4:12 a.m.

Exactly four hours and nineteen minutes since the lights went out at the gala.

He had not wasted a single second.

-----

Inside the brownstone, Ava sat on the edge of a neatly made bed in a locked second-floor room. The window was barred from the outside. The door had a heavy bolt. She had already tested both.

The room itself was almost insultingly comfortable, clean sheets, a lamp, a small stack of books, a tray of untouched food. Lorenzo Rossi did not believe in making his leverage suffer unnecessarily. Suffering made people unpredictable. Predictable leverage was more valuable.

She had slept in short, restless stretches, waking every time a floorboard creaked or a car passed outside. The phone call with Nathan still echoed in her head.

‘I’m coming for you’

She believed him. That was the problem. Nathan Walker did not come quietly.

A soft knock sounded at the door.

Lorenzo entered without waiting for an answer, carrying two cups of coffee. He looked rested, freshly shaved, as if kidnapping the most important person in Nathan’s life was simply another item on a busy schedule.

“You didn’t eat,” he observed, setting one cup on the nightstand.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You should be. Negotiations take time.” He sat in the chair across from her, posture relaxed. “Your Nathan has already started killing people. Three of my associates are missing. One of my warehouses is ash. He’s very… efficient when motivated.”

Ava’s hands tightened in her lap. “Then let me go before he burns the rest of your world down.”

Lorenzo smiled faintly. “That is precisely why I took you. He will give me what I want because he cannot stand the idea of you in a room like this for another night.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then we wait. I am patient. He is not.”

-----

Nathan moved like a shadow through the side entrance Marco had forced open.

The first guard never saw him. A brief struggle. A hand over the mouth. A precise strike. The man crumpled silently to the floor.

The second guard in the kitchen reached for his weapon too late. Nathan disarmed him, slammed him against the counter, and left him unconscious with a zip-tie around his wrists.

Upstairs.

Nathan took the stairs two at a time, heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with exertion. Marco and another man covered the lower level. The third heat signature was moving toward the front of the house, likely Lorenzo or a higher-ranking guard.

Nathan reached the locked door at the end of the hall.

He didn’t knock.

One hard kick. The frame splintered. The door flew open.

Ava jerked upright on the bed, eyes wide.

For half a second neither of them moved.

Then Nathan crossed the room in three strides and pulled her against him so hard it nearly knocked the breath from her lungs. His hands ran over her arms, her face, her hair, checking, confirming, claiming.

“Are you hurt?” His voice was rough, almost broken.

“No,” she whispered, clutching his coat. “Nathan…”

“I know.” He pressed his forehead to hers for one brief, desperate second. “I’ve got you.”

A floorboard creaked behind them.

Nathan spun, shoving Ava behind him as Lorenzo Rossi stepped into the doorway, hands raised in mild surrender. He was alone. Unarmed. Still smiling that polite, infuriating smile.

“Impressive,” Lorenzo said calmly. “I expected you by morning. You’re early.”

Nathan’s gun was already raised, aimed steadily at the center of Lorenzo’s chest.

“Give me one reason not to end this right now.”

Lorenzo’s gaze flicked to Ava, then back to Nathan. “Because if you kill me here, my people will assume the worst and retaliate before you can get her somewhere safe. Because I still control three of your shipping routes. And because, despite everything, I am still willing to negotiate.”

Nathan’s finger rested against the trigger.

Ava’s hand touched his arm. “Nathan. Not here. Not like this.”

He didn’t lower the gun. But he didn’t fire either.

“You took her,” Nathan said, voice low and lethal. “That was your first and last mistake.”

Lorenzo inclined his head slightly. “Perhaps. But now we both know exactly how far you’re willing to go. That information is valuable.”

Marco’s voice crackled in Nathan’s ear. “We have company. Two cars pulling up. Rossi’s people.”

Nathan’s jaw flexed. He kept the gun trained on Lorenzo as he backed toward the window, keeping Ava shielded with his body.

“This isn’t over,” he told Lorenzo.

“I know.” Lorenzo’s smile never wavered. “In fact, I believe it’s only beginning.”

Nathan smashed the barred window with the butt of his gun, kicked the remaining glass out, and helped Ava through onto the fire escape. Rain immediately soaked them both. He followed, never fully turning his back on the man in the doorway.

By the time Rossi’s reinforcements reached the brownstone, Nathan and Ava were already gone, swallowed by the wet, dark streets of Brooklyn, Nathan’s arm locked tightly around her as if he would never let her go again.

-----

They didn’t speak until they were inside a different safe house on the other side of the city.

Nathan locked the door, checked every window, then turned and pulled Ava into his arms again. This time it was slower. His hands trembled as they framed her face.

“I was too late,” he said, the words scraped raw. “Seven seconds. I was too f*****g late.”

Ava rose on her toes and kissed him, hard, desperate, tasting rain and fear and relief. “You came. That’s what matters.”

Nathan’s control cracked.

He backed her against the wall, kissing her like a man who had almost lost everything. His hands were everywhere, her waist, her thighs, her hair, as if he needed to prove to himself she was real and whole and his.

“I would have burned the city,” he rasped against her mouth. “I still might.”

Ava pulled him closer. “Then burn it. Just don’t leave me again.”

He lifted her, carrying her to the nearest bed. Clothes came off in frantic pieces. When he finally pushed inside her, it was deep and urgent, his forehead pressed to hers, eyes open and dark with something close to madness.

“Never again,” he vowed with every thrust. “No one takes you from me. No one.”

Ava clung to him, legs wrapped tight around his waist, meeting every desperate stroke until they both shattered. Nathan buried his face in her neck afterward, still inside her, still shaking.

For a long time neither of them spoke.

Outside, the rain kept falling.

And somewhere across the city, Lorenzo Rossi was already making his next move.