Sunday — 3:12 p.m.
Edge's POV
“Get every brother in here.”
Chain nodded but remained beside the door, waiting for my next order.
I turned back toward the bastard sitting in front of me.
He'd just admitted that my wife had been nothing more than bait.
A way to get his hands on my daughter.
My princess.
The same daughter who'd already endured more than anyone should in one lifetime.
And now someone wanted her again.
“What's your name?” I demanded.
The man swallowed.
“Daniel Whitmore.”
“Where are you from?”
“Columbia.”
He nodded.
Morgan stood against the wall, his arms crossed. Hawk remained beside Train, watching our prisoner.
I pulled my chair closer.
“Daniel, you understand what you've done?”
“I was just doing a job.”
My fist slammed against the table.
“A JOB?”
Whitmo
