Page 183 of The Sinner's Bargain

The stiff fingers were pried open. A tissue was snatched off the coffee table and used to gently clean the crimson stain.

I swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Vance murmured in the gentlest tone I’d heard from him. “Your parents, however, and Brixton. That overbearing, ridiculous man. I would personally like a few words with all of them.”

I tried to offer him a smile, but my cheeks felt weighed down, refusing the gesture.

“How did you hear about Ripken?” Vance asked.

“Father was on the phone with...” I bunched my brows and dug deep to recall if he’d ever used a name. “Gordy? I think? I think he owed Ripken money.”

Vance visibly winced. “I certainly hope not...” He broke off and frowned. “Actually, I hope he does. Ripken will...” he caught my eye and quickly cleared his throat. “Ripken will handle him quite nicely.”

I considered that for a long moment. I had no love for my parents. I didn’t even like them, but did I want them harmed?

I wasn’t sure.

“Father was telling Gordy to tell Ripken that Thoran and Jarrett were best friends and starting a business together and he would be getting the last of his payments for me from Jarrett in a few hours.”

“Well, given that Jarrett didn’t get you, and he most likely did not pay your father that money, I expect there are a lot of unhappy people out there right now.”

It had been over a month.

“How did you not hear about me?” I asked, voicing my question out loud and facing Thoran for the first time. “You had an invitation to the wedding on your desk.”

Thoran blinked. His golden eyes lifted to his desk as if trying to recall. “I remember something, but I wasn’t going to go. I didn’t know the guy. Why would I go to his wedding? I don’t even know what happened to the thing.”

Heat prickled in my cheeks. “I put it in the trash.”

He leaned in and kissed the tip of my nose. “I was going to put it there anyway.”

“I heard some noise about Brixton’s wedding getting postponed due to ... something.” Vance swept his glasses off and rubbed his eyes with a hooked knuckle. “I think due to...” Huffing, he fished out his phone and swiped the screen on. The glasses returned over his eyes, and he squinted at his screen as he pulled up the information. “Jarrett Brixton postpones wedding due to the bride’s change of heart on the venue. Further information will be disclosed once a new location is selected.” He shrugged and scanned over the article again. “There isn’t a mention of you anywhere on here and I would never have suspected that you would be the bride.”

I wasn’t surprised that Jarrett would make up a story to explain my absence to his friends and colleagues but blaming me for the delay was insulting. But technically, I supposed he wasn’t wrong.

“Well, at least you know for sure I’m not a spy,” I only partially teased.

Under his dark complexion, Vance flushed slightly. “It’s my job to be suspicious and diligent. I do apologize if I overstepped in my duties.”

Despite the heavy fog of exhaustion tipping my body deeper against Thoran, I chuckled slightly. “You’re a kitten compared to Mr. Yorick. He’s Father’s ... man, like you are to Thoran.”

Vance pursed his lips. “I prefer advisor.” He set his pen down on the pad and straightened in his chair. “I think I’m going to do some more digging on your father. The fact that Brixton and Ripken have mysteriously found this odd bridge connecting them makes me suspicious. I dislike that Brixton made it a mission to come to the manor when the instructions for the delivery were very clear.” He checked his watch. “Burkard hasn’t returned with any of the information I requested, but I did tell him to be thorough and that takes time.” He sighed and pushed to his feet. “I may not be here for supper. I want to dive right into this and it’s going to require my full attention. If you see Oliver, let him know I did look into that shipment invoice he requested.” He fished into the front pocket of his blazer and drew out a folded piece of paper and passed it to Thoran. “There’s nothing odd about it.”

Thoran parted the paper and peered over the carbon copy of a transfer receipt. “What is this? Why is Oliver needing to see old shipping invoices?”

Vance shook his head as he gathered up his papers. “He only said he was double-checking orders.”

Not saying anything else, Vance left us and Thoran tucked the invoice into his pocket before turning to face me.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded. “I feel tired, but I’m glad you know everything.”

Thoran shook his head slightly. “I don’t think I do, but baby steps.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to assure him there was nothing else, but his phone took that moment to jingle in his pocket.

“Get it,” I pressed when he only brought my knuckles to his lips.

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