Page 79 of Oathbreaker

Leo and I look at each other on high alert.

“Expecting someone?” I ask Leo.

“Nope,” he replies grimly.

I pull up the cameras, thumbing through the video feed as I storm toward the front of the door. The three guards I’ve stationed at the gate are face-down in individual pools of blood.

“Shit!” Leo moves toward the door alongside me as his fingers fly over the phone. He yells commands at Rio, and the sound of several pairs of boots rushing in comes from the back of the mansion.

“Fuck!” I hiss as I round the corner to the foyer, and pure rage snaps in my neurons when I hear Winter’s soft voice.

“Oh,” she says.

Blair Winthrope, dressed in a white designer jumpsuit and patterned scarf, is in the front entryway. Winter stands in front of her, Kitty in her trembling arms.

Uncharacteristically, Kitty growls, showing his jagged teeth to Blair.

I’m sure Blair imagines herself as Jackie O. Her up-swept hair and oversized sunglasses give her an air of mystery.

Standing in an arc in front of six black SUVs is her security detail. They all have guns out.

Protect Winter.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Blair?” I step in front of Winter, blocking Blair’s view of her beautiful and stricken face.

“Now, is that any way to greet your soon-to-be-wife?” Her red-painted lips tip up in a farce of a smile as she removes her glasses.

Winter’s breath catches, and she steps away, putting distance between us. I call on my restraint as the overwhelming need to throttle Blair pulses at my fingertips.

I reach my hand back, snagging Winter’s wrist. She tries to pull away, to run away. I tighten my grasp, using my thumb to rub the delicate skin of her inner wrist.

“Are you here to be useful and tell me where my father is hiding?” I spit at her.

“I have no clue where Ben is,” she says, looking up at me, her eyes wide and innocent. It’s an act. I know it is.

“Then what the fuck do you want? Or did you just want to be dramatic by coming up here and killing the guards at my front gate?”

“Oh, God,” Winter chokes out on a strangled breath.

Get control.

I squeeze Winter’s hand.

“I’ve come to deliver our wedding invitations. And I wanted to see my poor fiancé. Is that too much to ask? Those fools at the front wouldn’t let me in. They were so disrespectful, and they pulled their guns out first. Madness! We’re about to be married, Hunter. You’d think they’d have me on the approved guest list.”

She peers at me with a doe-eyed look.

“Anyway. Here,” she continues as if she didn’t just casually brush off the fact that her people gunned down my security staff.

I grind my teeth as she pulls a heavy card stock invitation set from her large envelope-shaped purse. She holds it out to me, and I don’t take it.

“Not your fiancé. There is no wedding. Get the fuck out of here.”

Blair blinks.

“Winter, is it?” Blair asks, looking at me with uninhibited aggression. Then she steps to her right, aiming her gaze at Winter.

“You don’t so much as breathe in her direction,” I growl.

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