Page 17 of Sinful Embers

“I know,” Nikolas says bluntly, and I see his eyes darkening in anger which speaks volumes to me. “Your mother didn’t see what happened and she couldn’t hear anything either.”

“Why the fuck did Vivienne take Leigh there?” My voice rises, every muscle in my body tensing. “She was twelve. Why would Vivienne want to teach her a lesson about lying cheating whores?”

“I don’t know.” Nikolas’s jaw clenches, the storm in his eyes dark and dangerous. “There was no one to ask and Leigh was too delirious. There’s no telling what Vivienne, your father,or Gunther were planning or had already done to her, but it wasn’t good.”

“It was bad enough that she got dissociative amnesia!” Sabrina’s eyes have also darkened with anger.

“Leigh’s shirt had been cut open down the front, and someone had tried to tie it back together.” He swallows and if I didn’t know how much he loved his daugther before I sure as fuck did then. The pain, regret, anger, and guilt in his eyes said it all.

“Fuck!” I slam my fist against the arm of the chair. “Leigh was down there? In that place? I can’t believe her own mother took her there.”

“That fucking whore bitch Vivienne got what she deserved in the end,” Sabrina spits venomously. “She was a horrible mother—an all-around dreadful human being.”

“I can’t even argue with that or say she never used to be like that because Viviene had always been like that,” Nikolas declares. “Even her own mother and father had washed their hands of her.”

“Who can blame them?” Sabrina states.

While Nikolas and Sabrina talk about Vivienne one thought keeps rolling around in my head. “So, the only person who might know the truth about who killed my father and uncle has dissociative amnesia?”

“I’m afraid so,” Nikolas confirms grimly. “What we do know is that Carlos and the Ice Man were there, too.”

“Seriously?” I sit up straight. “How do you know that?”

“Leigh!” Nikolas rubs the back of his neck. “She kept mumbling that the Ice Man and the man with my face had punished Vivienne because of what she’d done to her. Then she’d get all agitated and terrified because they’d also told her they’d be back for her when the time was right.”

“You said there was poison on the arrow?” I ask. “What kind of poison?”

“Some concoction Vivienne had made for her “hunting” arrows. She called it her designer poison,” Sabrina is the one who answers. “Luckily Uncle Nik knew who made if for Vivienne and the person was able to cook up and antidote.” She glances at Nikolas with narrowed eyes. “Or was that a big fat lie too?”

“No.” Nikolas shakes his head. “That part was the truth.”

“Who?” I look at Nikolas. “Who made the designer poison?”

“I can’t disclose that,” Nikolas replies flatly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Convenient,” I snap, leaning back in my chair, glaring at him.

“So, it could’ve been the Ice Man or Carlos who killed my father and uncle?” I ask, shifting the conversation back to the murders.

“I don’t think it was Carlos,” Nikolas says, his voice low and steady. “I believe he killed Vivienne. Her neck was snapped—after the Uzi episode that became his signature method of killing.”

Sabrina gaze shifts to the murder board. ““So, Carlos and…” Her voice trails of and jumps up to walk to the board, tapping on the jumping up and stepping closer on the section labeled Russian Oligarch. “It has to be him.” She spins around, excitement bubbling in her expression. “We need to find out who Wanda Manning’s husband is—the oligarch. He has to be the Ice Man—and possibly your father and uncle’s killer.”

“Or,” I counter, “Carlos could be the Ice Man.”

Chapter 6

RADOMIR

“No, the Ice Man isn’t Carlos.” Nikolas cuts in sharply, shaking his head. He picks up Vivienne’s journal, his expression darkening. “In here, Vivienne describes Carlos as the man with her late husband’s face and the Ice Man as two distinct people. The Ice Man, she says, has eyes so icy blue they look like they were cut from glass.”

“When Carlos isn’t wearing those contacts, what color are his eyes?” Sabrina asks, her brow furrowing.

“Brown,” Nikolas replies without hesitation.

Sabrina’s lips press into a thin line as she processes this information. Then, as if struck by an idea, her eyes widen. “What is the golden key?” she asks suddenly, her voice tinged with urgency. “Radomir, you said Carlos wanted the golden key.”

“I’m not sure,” I admit, my mind racing. Rising from my chair, I stride to my safe, unlocking it with practiced ease. I pull out the document Mark gave me and hold it up for them to see. “Fuck! Could this be it?” I point to the gold key logo stamped on the letterhead.

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