I Belong To My Three Forbidden Masters

Chapter 105: Chapter 105

Darius’s pov

Their eyes locked on me till it felt like I was shrinking. I was not expecting him to have guests.

My bad.

Theodore just pinned me with a glare, not moving an inch. He simply leaned back, his gloved fingers laced together loosely over his suit jacket, his expression entirely unreadable.

Behind him, fifty stories up, the grey morning skyline framed his silent, imposing outline.

I wasn’t afraid of him by any chance but right now, I was scared of the outcome of this meeting. I didn’t want to lose my chances.

I cleared my throat, the sound dry, brittle, and raspy in the vast, glass-walled office. I forced a small, awkward chuckle, lifting a hand to adjust my tie, though the gesture felt hollow even to my own ears.

"I... I didn’t expect to see you all here at once," I said, my voice wavering before I forced it flat.

None of them smiled.

Tough crowd and I am the one that lost a son.

The man standing at the center of the semicircle was a broad-shouldered mercenary with a deep, jagged scar running from his left ear all the way down to his collar, he took a single, heavy step forward.

His dark suit jacket shifted, revealing the subtle, bulge of a suppressed sidearm strapped at his ribs. His polished leather boots sank silently into the plush carpet.

"Theodore gave me the floor," the scarred man said, his voice like dry gravel grinding together. "I speak for the team. Where are our goods, Darius?"

My heart slammed violently against my ribs, cold sweat instantly pricking the back of my neck beneath my tailored shirt collar. I adjusted my silver cufflinks, holding my hands out in a small, placating gesture to ease the sudden drop in room temperature.

Shit, straight into it.

I thought he would be alone so I could disarm him but I was against ten scary men. It is not looking good for me.

"That... that is precisely why I am here," I began, my voice trembling slightly before I forced it into a firm, authoritative tone. "I came to explain the situation to you personally. The asset, the breeder, was stolen from my custody and he is currently being held captive."

An instant, explosive outrage erupted through the room.

Several men stepped forward in unison, their heavy shoes slapping hard against the floor as furious, overlapping shouts echoed off the high glass walls.

"Stolen?!" one of them snarled, his hand dropping straight to his leather holster.

"We paid a fifty percent deposit upfront, Thorne!" another barked, stepping directly into my personal space with his broad chest puffed out. "You guaranteed nothing would go wrong with dealing with you!"

"Listen to me!" I yelled back, holding up both hands, my pulse hammering wildly in my throat.

They stopped and glared at me all at once, I kept the hands in the air. I probably shouldn’t have yelled at them.

"Please just listen."

I had to pivot. I couldn’t tell them the truth. I couldn’t tell them that Gideon had fucked up by sticking his dick in Lysander, ruined my deal, and dragged our family into ruin.

I couldn’t tell them my son was lying in a cold, shallow grave behind my mansion because he was obsessed with an online camboy who was my step son and happens to be the one thing they wanted.

I needed them bloodthirsty. I needed them furious, armed, and pointed directly at Balthazar’s throat.

"My son, Gideon, who you know would take over from me. He was en route to deliver the breeder to your drop site," I lied, the desperate words spilling out of my mouth in a fast, breathless rhythm. "He had the asset fully secured in the back of the van, heavily sedated. Everything was going according to our protocol. But some vampires attacked him per orders from a higher vampire."

The scarred spokesman narrowed his eyes, his head tilting slightly as he processed the information. "Vampires?"

"Yes!" I insisted, taking a step closer, my eyes wide as I leaned into the lie. "A whole coven of them. They smashed through the doors, slaughtered our guards, and dragged the breeder out into the street! Gideon fought them off, he fought like hell to protect your investment but their leader stepped in himself."

I took a deep, shuddering breath, twisting the brutal reality of last night into the dark, frantic narrative I needed them to swallow whole.

"It was Drake Balthazar," I said, my voice dropping into a bitter, venomous whisper. "He didn’t just take the asset. He recognized the boy’s rare, fertile bloodline on sight."

I finished speaking, my chest heaving as I looked from the spokesman back to Theodore sitting silently behind the obsidian desk. I stood there, wiping a bead of cold sweat from my forehead, waiting for them to buy my lies.

It was all I could give them for now so I could buy more time.

Silence stretched across the room. It was long, thick, and suffocating.

The scarred spokesman stared directly at me. His heavy brow furrowed into a tight, deep frown. He didn’t draw a weapon. He didn’t offer a single word of tactical sympathy like I was expecting . He just looked at me with pure disgust as if I was a common begger off the street.

"Is this a fucking joke to you, Thorne?" he asked softly.

My breath caught hard in my throat. My eyes went wide, my jaw slackening as a sudden, icy wave of shock washed over my entire body. "What?"

"Do you think we’re stupid?" the man rasped, taking another slow, deliberate step toward me. "Do you think we don’t have eyes on everything that happens? You come in here, smelling like dirt and cheap cologne, spinning a fairytale about a pure blood vampire to cover for the fact that you lost our asset?"

"No—no, no, no!" I stammered, shaking my head frantically, my hands flying up in blind panic as I realized how absurd the story sounded coming from me.

What the fuck was I thinking? Grief has made me soft.

."You don’t understand! I’m not making this up! He took him! Balthazar has him!"

Behind the spokesman, one of the suited mercenaries leaned over to the man beside him, his voice flat, dry, and completely devoid of any human mercy.

"Kill him."

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