Page 46 of The Devil's Pawn

I enter without knocking. She isn’t in the bedroom or the bathroom, nor the small sitting room adjacent. I look around the room and curse. Sitting on top of a book she must be reading is her phone. Goddammit. She’s done this on purpose, and even though she’ll be somewhere on the estate—the guards would know if she’d left the property—there’s a lot of ground to cover, a fact she’ll be well aware of.

Maybe it’s for the best. The last thing I need is to seek temptation. She’s probably done me a favor, and she’s made my next move easier, considering how unreliable she’s proved herself to be with the phone. She’s left me no option but to resort to more drastic measures. If modern tracking technology had been available when Annabel and I were taken, I truly believe my sister would be alive today.

My phone buzzes, the notification strip warning me my first meeting is in fifteen minutes. I’m still soaked through from the rain, so I head to my apartment to change.

Once dressed in a fresh suit, shirt, and tie, I comb my damp hair, but as I cross the living area that overlooks the stables at the rear of the house, something catches my eye.

I move closer to the window. From here, I can see over the rooftops of the stable blocks to the paddocks on the far side of the property that slope down the hill toward a streamthat runs for miles. But it’s not the stream I’m interested in, nor the lush green fields. It’s the woman sitting on top of a horse while the groom I’ve already had warned to stay away from her is laughing and joking with my wife. There’s something about his demeanor that’s unsettling, and it’s not only because he’s touching something that belongs to me. He isn’t afraid of the consequences of disobeying a direct order.

My instincts prickle once more. I open my email and pull up Edgerton’s application form. I forward it to the same team I use to run background checks on my marks and ask them for a full sweep.

If William Edgerton has any skeletons in his closet, my team will find them.

Chapter Seventeen

ALEXANDER

Forty-eight hours after I sent the request, an email lands with the background check on Edgerton. I make my excuses and leave the meeting I’m hosting, putting my vice chair in charge. As important as my attendance at the meeting is, this can’t wait.

Closing my study door, I settle behind my desk and open the email. As expected, the information is detailed, going as far back as which hospital Edgerton’s mother gave birth to him, what schools he attended, who his best friend was, and what his mother packed him for lunch.

While skipping through the first few pages, something catches my eye, and I flick back to the beginning. Wait a minute. Edgerton isn’t his birth name. He legally changed it a year ago from Barrett.

Barrett. Barrett. Why is that name familiar?

I press my fingertips to my temples, racking my brains for the answer. Scanning the first couple of pages again, I find what I’m looking for. Will had an older sibling. Dean Barrett. Born two years before Will.

Well, I’ll be damned. Dean fucking Barrett. A filthy piece of scum who repeatedly raped his daughter for eight years before his wife walked in on him unexpectedly. She threatened to call the police, and in response, he beat her half to death. She survived the attack and told the authorities everything. The case went to court, but as happens all too often, the evidence presented was discredited by a clever barrister who tore the wife and the daughter apart, and the jury returned a not guilty verdict.

The case came across my desk, and I put my team on it. They spent six months uncovering the evidence we needed to move on the mark. Like all those before and after him, I only move when I’m a hundred percent certain of their guilt. There’s no beyond a reasonable doubt. It has to be iron-clad that they’re guilty.

Barrett begged for his life, like they all do.

Didn’t make a difference. A year ago, I put that fucker in the ground. Hopefully, his daughter will be able to find a way through the horror and heal, knowing he’ll never come for her again.

Will changing his name and securing a position on my family estate isn’t a coincidence. Even if I believed in them, which I don’t, he’s here to avenge what I did to his brother. My skin itches at how close he’s been to Imogen. He’s touched her. Laughed with her. For all I know, he could have changed his plans, and now she’s his target instead of me.

Not on my fucking watch.

Sliding the photo frame that obscures the safe in my office to the right, I enter the combination, open it, and remove my handgun. I don’t often carry weapons, leaving my day-to-day security to my bodyguards, but this is personal.

I have Doug bring a car to the front of the house. Oncehe does, I dismiss him and climb into the driver’s seat, making a beeline for the staff entrance. Two guards step out of the gatehouse as I approach, surprise registering on their faces when they catch sight of me in the driver’s seat. I pull over to the side and climb out.

“Take a break. Both of you.”

Leaving any entrance to the house unguarded isn’t done, but as they predictably begin to tell me what I already know, I cut them off.

“Now!”

They scuttle off, heads together, probably speculating the reason for their dismissal. I enter the guard house and put in a call to Osborne.

“Find Will Edgerton and send him home.”

“Sir?” The inflection in his voice invites further explanation—one I don’t care to give.

“Do it.” I hang up and wait. It isn’t long before a car winds its way toward me, rolling to a stop when the exit barrier remains closed. The moment I appear from the gatehouse, Edgerton’s shock is far more pronounced than the guards, but it lasts only a second or two. His expression hardens, and he exits his vehicle.

“Mr. De Vil, can I help you, sir?”

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