Page 5 of Wicked Heiress

A shiver rushed down my arms at his threat. It wouldn’t have been the first time he did that to me. Until I moved in with my grandfather, I had no idea someone could be so heartless.

I strolled into the mansion beside my grandfather, dressed in a baby blue sundress. He had insisted I wear this and even hired a woman to coat my face in makeup.

I looked like a doll.

Pink cheeks and long, blonde hair that spilled down my back in thick barrel curls. The woman applied several layers of eyeshadow that made my blue eyes appear as if they were jumping off my face.

I didn’t look like me.

We followed the butler into the great room. It was ten times the size of my current living room and had a dozen windows. The ceiling was at least twenty feet high, decorated with wood planks.

My grandfather’s house was equally impressive but looked more like a museum than a home. Cold and uninviting like him.

A tall man with black hair stood beside a beautiful blonde woman. Three boys clung to her side, the oldest of the group blond like her and taller than his dad. The other two boys were identical twins with their father’s black hair.

The man and his wife closed the distance between us, the oldest boy a few steps behind. I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

“Fitzy,” the black-haired man said with his hand extended. “Welcome back to Fort Marshall. How was your drive to Devil’s Creek?”

He preferred the nickname Fitzy. It was strange the uptight bastard would let anyone call him something so informal.

“Tiring,” Grandfather grumbled. “Let’s get on with it.”

He hated pleasantries and small talk. Most people didn’t bother to speak unless he asked a question.

The dark-haired man offered his hand. “I’m Mark Marshall. And you must be Grace.”

I forced a smile. “Nice to meet you. Thank you for letting me stay at your home. It’s beautiful.”

The words sounded rehearsed as they left my mouth. My grandfather went through the script on our drive to Devil’s Creek.

The blonde woman was close to my height and wrapped her arms around me. “Hi, Grace,” she said in a sweet tone. She had kind blue eyes and a warm smile. “I’m Willow Marshall. It’s so nice to meet you, sweetheart.”

She held me in her arms like we had known each other forever. I instantly lowered my guard in her presence. Willow reminded me of my mom.

The oldest boy moved in front of her. He was probably around my age, early twenties at most. “I’m Colton.” He offered his hand for me to shake. “But everyone calls me Cole.”

Cole Marshall was the cutest boy I had ever met. I shook his hand and avoided his gaze to still the nerves coursing through my body.

The twins didn’t speak as they stared at my breasts. Willow said their names were Sloan and Knox, but I couldn’t tell them apart.

“Cole.” Mark tapped his son on the back. “Why don’t you show Grace the movie theater? I have business to discuss with Fitzy.”

His eyes met mine, so big and blue, the color of the ocean. “Do you like Marvel movies?”

I pressed my lips together and nodded.

Cole dragged me out of the room and led me down a long hallway with the shiniest white marble floor. I could see my reflection in the tile.

He slipped his fingers between mine, and my hand trembled as we walked through the house.

“You don’t have to fear me. I won’t hurt you.”

Everyone in my life hurt me at some point. The Colonel was the only person who kept his promise. He taught me how to survive and how to fight. I wasn’t the same scared girl anymore because of him.

We entered a room at the back of the house with movie theater seating and a concession stand. My grandfather had a similar space in his home, but I couldn’t use it. I entered without his permission once, and he locked me in the basement.

Cole slid behind the counter and grabbed the box of kernels. After he prepared the popcorn, we sat in the back row, eating and watching the first Captain America movie. His eyes didn’t leave the screen, though I caught him looking at me a few times.

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