Page 78 of Stormhold

“Grayson,” Arkane bit out, something terrifying in his eyes. “Fucking Grayson has taken Ian Smith.”

CHAPTER 22

BELLE

It took us almost an hour to reach the city, and it was only when our truck cut through the Galloway division near the Sky Bridge that I realized where we were going.

The Little Mermaid.

A renowned name in the Twins, not just in the city but on the entire East Coast. It was almost like a small town in the middle of the city. And its architecture was quite interesting. Set on the edge of the Uppers, it was shaped like a mermaid’s fins stretching out from the mainland, surrounded by the rough ocean on all three sides. The building itself was a warehouse-style block that stretched several stories tall, but the main scene was its world-famous underground fight club. Rumor had it that anything and everything happened there, including death.

Even before we exited the car, I could hear the sound of club music sizzle in the air.

Arkane turned to me just before we exited. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” he said, eyes shifting to mine. “This isn’t your fight.”

I shook my head with a small smile. “But I want to.”

For a moment, he simply stared before he gave me a curt nod. We jumped out of the car and headed straight to the club. Mikhail led us forward, followed by Arkane and me, with Eric and Simon watching our six.

The burly guards at the entrance moved to stop Arkane, but just one look from him, and they all cowered back. I didn’t know if it was wise for us to go in without backup, but I knew Arkane had thought well before making any decision, and I trusted him.

Even though we were walking into Grayson Stormhold’s lair, it was apparent we still didn’t know if he was the enemy or a brother.

I stayed close to Arkane’s side, grateful that I had brought my blades with me. We parted through the dancing crowd on the light-up floor, neon lights glimmering over their shiny, exposed skin. Even though I was wearing my usual silk dress, which showed off most of my arms and ankles, I felt overdressed. From the corner of my eye, I could see men following us, but they kept their distance, not trying to hide their intention.

We reached a private hallway of sorts and walked straight into the elevator that took us a few levels down. The lower-deck roof offered a clear view of the floor above us. It was a disturbing sight, to say the least, with all the feet stomping over our heads. The concave-shaped outer walls offered a view of the pitch-black ocean. One crack in that glass and this entire place would be swallowed by water in seconds.

At the end of another hallway, we took a different elevator, which took us to the bottom-most floor before opening into a more private and quieter area, cloaked in darkness, with stunning yellow lights and calm music.

I could tell this crowd was different. They were more casual but more dangerous.

This entire building was like a maze with only one entry point. It was either the best place to hide or die.

I found it interesting how none of Grayson’s guards stopped us. It could only mean one thing. He was waiting for us.

Arkane took long strides straight to the heavily guarded double doors and burst in. And inside, Grayson Stormhold sat on a couch, the glass windows containing the deep ocean behind him. He wore a blank face, in his usual tight gray T-shirt and black hoodie, with bruised fists.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Arkane didn’t even hesitate to point a gun at his brother’s head.

For once, Grayson Stormhold appeared calm, his lone finger tapping on his thigh as he regarded Arkane with a cool expression. “I did what I had to do,” he answered, so unlike himself.

Arkane tilted his head. “Where is he?”

The air grew tense, and everyone stood on guard, ready for anything. It still wasn’t clear, and it didn’t make any sense to me, but if Grayson was the traitor, this could turn too bloody too fast. Mikhail was already shadowing Arkane, both of his guns drawn out, ready for a fight.

“Ian Smith is exactly where he is supposed to be,” Grayson replied. There was something odd about his entire demeanor. It was almost as if he was putting on an act or was made to put on an act.

In the next instant, Arkane was onto him, punching his face black and blue. Something uncontrollably fierce in his eyes as he held his brother by the collar and pummeled his face with his fists. “Did you know what fucking happened?” Arkane shouted, the vein in his head throbbing with tension. “Your sister fucking lost her son, and you fucking decide now to fuck us up?”

It was almost as if Arkane was taking his frustration out on Grayson while the latter let him, quietly taking the punishment as though he deserved it.

I put my blades away, finally making sense of the situation. The look in Grayson’s eyes wasn’t cool detachment but one of remorse and guilt. Little Alessio’s death was a simple distraction, and they used Grayson Stormhold to get what they wanted. Whatever they held over his head must be significant to him.

“You’re not going to speak, are you?” Arkane asked, breathing hard as he glared at his brother. The look of utter betrayal in his eyes made Grayson avert his gaze and shake his head.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Grayson whispered. “I’m sorry, Kane.”

Arkane’s hands fell from his collar, and without another look, he spun around and signaled to Mikhail to take him away. Grayson, without even a sound of protest, went with him.