The Billionaire's Nanny

The basement

Lucas

It was the third night I had to spend at the station, trying to understand what little Italian I knew as I helped the cops find the mastermind that had turned my entire world into a whirlwind. The third night I spent doing anything else but taking care of her.

Not like she'd let me. Not like she'd speak to me. Not like she'd look at me.

In a way, pouring my efforts into finding Sarah was my way of distracting myself from the bitter truth that I failed her. That I failed them both. Chris may never forgive me for this, and while that hurt like hell, the pain of knowing I could never forgive myself was on a whole different level.

My chest squeezed at a fresh memory of Chris under that bastard with his disgusting hands around her, taking her breath. No level of restraint could have prevented me from tearing him apart limb by fucking limb. To give him a lesson not only on how to treat a woman but more importantly, to make sure his eyes never did so much as look at mine in any way, shape, or form.

At least with his eyes temporarily dysfunctioning from the blows I lashed on them, he would not be seeing very much either way. Rage shook from deep inside me when I heard that this was the same bastard that had threatened—hurt—Chris before. It did not matter that we had not met then, I wanted to end the motherfucker for even touching a hair on her skin, I needed to watch him suffer, make him beg at her feet, apologize for every damn thing he ever did to Chris.

And even though my brother had saved him from me the day he attacked Chris, not even God would save him from all I had planned for him if he did not tell me exactly where that bitch was.

Sarah was the root of all these problems and I was damn fucking tired of trying to end these problems without ending her. Hell, I no longer gave a fuck what it would take, she had to go—permanently.

So that's how I end up being at the forefront of the investigation to find Sarah. If only the cops knew I was just waiting for the right information, the right chance to get to her first, if only they knew I had a vital person in the investigation, if only they knew how much torture he endured at my hands.

A part of me hated having to get my hands this dirty, I had always been one to trust the law, but where had that gotten me the first time? My fiancee, who would not do so much as look at me was going through painful stitches every damn day, my family could not move freely without security and even with security, they were unsafe. I trusted the law once, but since they failed me terribly by letting Sarah out of their sight, I drew the line. This was my family and I would die first before I would let Sarah get to them again. Hell, I would kill first before that ever happened.

I wiped my hands on the white towel, grimacing at the crimson covering the soft fabric. With a simple nod, I took the balm Robin offered me at the door of the basement. He had only said little since I brought Baron here and while his disproval for my method of information collection was evident, he remained the supportive brother I had always known him to be.

"Is he here yet?" I asked in a low voice, putting the ointment over my knuckles that had jammed into Baron's bones about a thousand times. The downside of this was that before now, the last time I had had a reason to punch anyone was back in college. The state which Baron was at this point proved I still had some power in my fist, as occasionally as I use them.

"He just landed," Robin answered, falling in step next to me as I made my way up the stairs leading to the living area of the mansion. "He should be here in a few."

"Good. Have him chat with our guest when he arrives. I'm going to see to her."

He gave me a knowing look. Even Robin and the other members of the family had been affected by Chris' withdrawal. "I have to keep trying," I said, answering his unvoiced question.