Page 44 of Scarlet Angel

My mother’s phone call makes sense then. “If they are asking questions about the books, my uncle will want me to return home to assist him.”

“You look tense.”

“I’m fine. I was quite aware that when I handed the evidence over, it would point to me. It might be best if you tell my uncle I’m not here. He’ll send men here to retrieve me if I refuse to return.”

“I’d like to see him do that.”

Goose bumps rise on my skin. I’m dressed warmly enough, but the damp air cuts through the fabric.

“Come on. Let’s ask Chef for a tea service. Get you under a blanket.”

“I’m not cold.” The rebuttal falls flat. He’s close, and his scent clogs my senses. It’s molten. Sweaty, yes, but also dangerous and irrationally enticing.

“You’re tense. There’s nothing to fear. You’re safe here. Come on. Let’s get you warm.”

* * *

Inside the billiard room, the fire crackles. My skin heats beneath the heavy blanket.

The chef isn’t on the property, so Nikolai pours bourbon and drops a square ice cube in the glass for me.

“More effective than tea,” he says with a wink that flips my tummy. Inexplicable, as I haven’t yet imbibed. “Sip. It’s good. Like candy.”

In a trance, I do as he suggests. The bourbon burns a trail down my throat, and my muscles loosen. Nikolai—Nick—is a handsome man, but he’s not a good man. And I’m not in the market for a man at all. I married once and murdered the man. From here on out, I’ll stick to vibrators and plants. Things that don’t cause a stir when they meet their maker.

I set the drained glass down and lie back against the pillows. My eyelids burn as I close them, a reminder that I haven’t been sleeping well. I’m not sure why. I prepared for this moment for years. Gathering evidence on the sly. Waiting for the moment to end their corrupt little kingdom. Willow’s death freed me. I hesitated because of her, but now I’ve acted. If there’s a god, the destruction will occur before Orlando sells his soul irrevocably.

“Better?”

“Yes, it’s good.” I observe him watching me, and a question that has repeatedly appeared and disappeared in my mind surfaces. “Do you have Willow’s mobile?”

“No.” His index finger taps against his glass. “If it was recovered, I imagine it’s nonfunctioning.”

Right, because the vehicle she was in sat meters below the surface of the river. Based on the location of her body when it was recovered, she and Leo escaped the vehicle, but the current had been too strong for them. I squeeze my eyes closed. I don’t want to think about what her last moments would have been like, what she went through, or her fear.

Redirect.

“Where’s Lina?”

“Off pouting somewhere, I’m sure.”

He’s freshly showered, something he must’ve done when he went off in search of the chef. Damp, his chestnut hair is darker, and when he nears, I inhale soap and sandalwood.

I’m noticing too much about this imperfect man. He treats his sister abysmally.

“Why?”What did you do to her?

“I said no when she wanted a yes.”

“Why don’t you let Lina live her life?”What gives you the right to control her?

“You think I’m holding her back, do you?” I open my mouth, but he speaks before I launch a word. “She’s free to leave and do as she pleases. But as long as I’m paying her bills, she’s not going out clubbing. Is that the life you like to lead?”

“Me?”

“Do you live to party?”

“No.”

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