Sunday — 12:38 p.m.
Edge's POV
“PREZ!”
I looked up from the security reports scattered across my desk.
Trident stood in the doorway, breathing hard.
“Trouble in the courtyard.”
“What happened?”
“Some bastard got inside. Grabbed Vina.”
My chair slammed backward.
“What?”
“He had a knife, Edge.”
I was already moving.
I shoved past Trident and stormed through the clubhouse.
The moment I rounded the corner, my heart nearly stopped.
Vina.
My wife stood beside Ava, one hand pressed against her neck.
Blood stained her fingers.
“VINA!”
Her head snapped toward me.
“Logan!”
I crossed the courtyard and pulled her into my arms.
“Sweetheart!”
My hands moved over her back before I cupped her face.
“Where are you hurt?”
“I'm okay, Logan.”
Then I saw the red mark along her throat.
