Page 52 of Wicked Angel

I tried again to sleep, and again, my mind was a riot of things. Despite the content glow the night had left me with, the longer I lay awake while he slept, the more my doubts crept in.

Will Gaven give up his current life?I wondered.Or will I be left each night to wonder where he is and who he’s killing? Will this mean I’ll be subject to more information on the dark parts of my father’s business, or will I still be kept in the dark? Did I have a choice in that?

Gaven had said he wanted me to be his Queen, but what did that mean?

A horribly cold feeling rose within me; no matter how I tried to shove it down, it wouldn’t go away. Soon, it became too much, and I found myself slipping out from beneath Gaven’s arm. He turned towards me in his slumber, and I hesitated for the briefest of moments. His breathing didn’t change, but I got the sense that he wasn’t quite asleep.

“Gaven?” His eyes opened and I found that I was right. He looked back at me, calmly waiting. I swallowed roughly. “I’ll be right back,” I said. “Do you want anything from the kitchen?”

He began to move. “What do you—” I knew what he would ask, but I couldn’t have it. I pushed my fingers over his mouth, stopping him from speaking and also making him freeze—halfway to sitting up. Under the sheets his stomach muscles shifted, tightening as he held the position.

“Don’t,” I urged, half pleading. “I just need a moment. I’m just going to grab something to drink.”

His cool blue eyes examined me, and slowly, as if he were a sleepy lion giving into its mate’s request, he lowered himself back onto the mattress and closed his eyes. “Don’t be long,” he said.

I nodded before realizing he couldn’t see me with his eyes closed. “Of course,” I said. “Just go to sleep. I’ll be right back.” I repeated the words as I finished getting out of bed and moved across the room. I picked up a robe that had been left on the back of one of the chairs and put it on, tying it at the waist as I slipped out of the suite and headed down the hallway.

A drink and maybe a snack would help me sleep. It calmed my thoughts and gave me a purpose until I could stop thinking long enough to sleep.

Halfway to the staircase, a quiet crash and thud drew my attention. I paused and straightened and then turned back, frowning when, at the very end, I saw the doors to my father’s office cracked open and shadows moving on the other side.

For several long seconds, I hesitated—wondering if I should go back to the room and wake Gaven first—but a low familiar voice sounded on the other side of the wooden doors. Jackie’s voice.

Ugh, are they fighting again?I wondered silently as I released a sigh and moved toward the doors.

My feet were silent on the hallway carpet. My hand went to the cracked door and pushed against it. I opened my mouth to call out but stopped dead as something wet touched my naked toes. I looked down and my eyes widened. My insides dropped out from beneath me and horror enveloped my whole body.

All of the glow from earlier dispersed, and I turned cold.No.

That was all I could think.Please, God … no.

Blood slipped beneath my toes, coating the bottoms of my feet in red. My eyes followed its path, and as much as my mind was screaming—warning me to stop, to look away—I couldn’t. My father’s lifeless gaze stared upward. His eyes locked open even though there was obviously no soul remaining within them. He was still in the same suit he’d worn for my wedding; only his jacket had been removed, which made the shocking pool of red on his chest that much more startling. His body was sprawled out on the floor with his head turned slightly towards the doorway—towards me—as if that was how he’d died, searching for a way out, searching for me.

His body.My mind said it, but my heart couldn’t register the truth of it. Everything in me screamed to do something,anything, but I was frozen in place. It wasn’t until I saw a deep red pool growing around his body that it finally hit me. He was dead. Someone killed him. My worldly, powerful father was laying there, on the floor of his office, in a massive puddle of his own blood that continued to pour from the hole in the center of his chest. My heart jerked in my chest as if being electrocuted and it kickstarted me towards him.

“Dad!” I cried, falling to my knees beside him. Warm, sticky blood coated my skin as I pressed my hands to his chest, trying to stop the bleeding. It was too late. My brain knew that, but my hands still covered the hole as the blood seeped from between my fingers. “Please …please!”

“Ah, if it isn’t little miss perfect, rushing in to save the day.” The words were cold, though the voice was familiar. Slowly, I lifted my gaze up to my sister as her shadow came over me. Whatever expression I had on my face made her sneer. In my shock, I’d forgotten she was in the room. When I looked at her, instead of finding her freaking out about our father bleeding out on the floor, she stood there nonchalantly—leaning against one of the chairs, eyeing her fingernails with disdain. In her other hand was a serrated knife. Its steel blade was coated in blood, the red liquid dripping off the tip onto the carpet. Each inaudible splash landed in slow motion in my sluggish mind.

Despite the rapid rhythm of my heart thudding in my ears, my movements felt slow, as if I was wading through molasses as I tried to piece together everything. I felt completely numb as I glanced around. My sister didn’t bother to look at me, her focus completely on her perfectly manicured nails.

No emotion. No remorse.Nothing.

“What—”

“Don’t play stupid,” she cut me off with a harsh tone, finally showing some emotion. The same hatred I’d seen briefly before the wedding filled her expression, and she angled the weapon toward me. “You know very well you were always Father dearest’s favorite.”

“No, I’m not.”Was that why she’d done this? Out of jealousy?“He loved us both.”

Her perfectly sculpted brow arched. “No, darling sister.” Her tone was mocking. “Youwerehis favorite.Iwas an obligation. Not the daughter he loved, but the one he had to raise simply because I was his blood.” She emphasized the past tense portion of her statement. The reminder made the blood coating my hands, and now my legs where I knelt next to my father, feel ice cold and heavy. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I looked down at his prone figure.

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head slightly. “This … you couldn’t…” I couldn’t wrap my head around it, almost like my brain refused to believe she was capable of this. She’d always been mean-spirited to me, our relationship never being close or even good, butshewas the perfect daughter—not me. Jackie was exactly like our father. Her entire focus was on the family and ensuring its business thrived. Just like my father wanted. “Why?” was all I could say, my single word thick with emotion. I didn’t understand—I couldn’t—I would never have done something like this. It made no sense that she seemed to have no regret even with our father laying here in his own blood, like some discarded card in her deck.

Instead of answering right away, though, all she did was start to laugh, the sound manic and terrifying, and I knew it would haunt me long after this horrific night was over. “Why?” she sneered, swinging the knife around with almost detached precision as she started to pace. “Because you’re just the sheltered little girl, the one with absolutelynofucking idea what the hell this family even needs, and yet, he hands the family off to you and yourhusband. Neither of whom has done anything to deserve it.”

Her voice grew angrier, harder. “I’ve given my entirelifeto this family. I’ve done horrible things for the Price name,” she growled at me. “And what haveyoudone? Bitched and moaned about wanting to run away to some fairytale happy ending like the spoiled princess you are. Then, when you finally had the chance—you botched it.”

Each word was accompanied by a jab of the weapon as she stepped forward. With the crazed look in her eyes, I wasn’t sure if she planned on using it against me. I didn’t move or speak so as not to anger her further. Her pacing finally slowed and her eyes flickered down to our father with disdain before focusing on me.

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