Page 72 of Golden Atonement

“I can’t go back. I won’t!” the woman screamed as someone in a Soulless Sinner cut carefully walked up behind her, grabbing her while he held the hand with the shard of glass away from her neck. The woman fought, screamed, begged to be let go. Another man, wearing the same cut, rushed in from behind me, quickly sedating the woman.

Standing there, I said nothing when the man who held her gently picked her up and carried her out of the room. Joshua Stone turned toward me. “I should fucking kill you where you stand.”

“I wouldn’t suggest it,” my father sneered, stepping closer. “No one will touch my daughter and live.”

“Do you have any fucking idea what you’ve done!” the man roared, raking his hands through his dark hair. “That woman is barely hanging on by a fucking thread. She lives in a perpetual state of nightmares. She never leaves this fucking house. It’s all I can do to keep her sane half the time and you fucking waltz in here and fuck everything up.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stone. I didn’t mean to cause her any problems. I just wanted answers.”

The man sighed. “Answers to fucking what?”

“I don’t really know,” I admitted. “I’ve recently come into some information that doesn’t make sense, but something is telling me the answer is here, somewhere. I was hoping if I came back here, something would jog my memory.”

“What information?”

“Regarding the Golden Skulls and the Soulless Sinners.”

“I told you already. I have nothing to do with that fucking club or my cousin.”

“But the man next to you is wearing a Soulless Sinner cut.”

“That doesn’t mean we’re affiliated.”

“George Stone is dead,” Vladmir informed.

Joshua smirked. “Thanks for the good news. Now leave.”

Looking around the house, something caught my attention.

Walking over to the mantel above the fireplace, my eyes locked on a photo. It was of the woman and Joshua.

They were younger, in their early teens.

Picking it up, I stared at the young girl.

The girl who looked so much like… “Oh my God,” I gasped as the framed photo fell from my fingers. “She’s—”

“Yes,” Joshua growled, grabbing the photo before it fell to the ground. “And if you know what’s fucking good for you, you’ll keep your fucking mouth shut.”

Staring at the man, I knew he was right.

If Max ever learned the truth, he would start a war unlike anything anyone had ever seen. Then again, if I knew my husband like I believed I did, then he already knew, and that’s when the conversation I had with Ghost popped back into my head.

“He calls them his ghost files.”

“So it’s true then. He’s known all along who the players were.”

“Yeah, and he’s been waiting, biding his time, taking them out one at a time. Say what you want about your husband, Remi, but the man is patient.”

Shaking my head, I grinned. “That conniving, lying, rat bastard. I should have fucking known better.”

“Remi?” Vladmir frowned.

Ignoring my father, I shook my head and stated, “He knows. Max has known all along.”

“What do you mean?” The man stiffened.

I smirked, looking at my father. “Everyone I’ve talked to told me in their own way. They knew what I didn’t. Everything Max has done has been to protect me. He did it because I wasn’t ready to learn the truth.”