Page 72 of Knot Beneath the Mistletoe

“Nobody’s seen her for close to two days. And Marcus has been trying to run her out of business at the Winterscape Bar for months. Coincidence?” I lean forward, palms flat on his desk. “I want to find him before I get the police involved and start crawling all over your company. Because I promise you, Marcus will be suspect number one.”

Sterling steeples his fingers, studying me. “You said Winterscape Bar? Eve Winters’ place?”

“Ruby’s place now. Her aunt left it to her.”

“Ah.” He leans back. “And you’re aware of the condition in Eve’s will? About marriage by Christmas Eve?”

The words hit me hard. “What?”

“If Ruby isn’t married by Christmas Eve, the bar passes to Marcus.” Sterling’s eyes narrow. “You didn’t know.”

“I thought...” My mind is racing. “I thought he was just trying to run her out of business to buy the place for investment purposes.”

Sterling sighs heavily, rubbing his temples. “That fucking idiot had plans to develop the property, but I told him not to get his hopes up on inheriting the property from Eve. I’ve kept him out of my business dealings because of his temper, but I promised his mother on her deathbed that I’d look after him.” He looks up at me sharply. “He has... issues. Rage issues.”

“Where is he?” The words come out barely controlled.

Instead of answering, Sterling pulls out his phone, dialing. After several rings, he frowns. “No answer.” He tears a page from a notepad, writing quickly. “His address and number. I need to know immediately if he’s involved. He’s had too many warnings already, after his last few charges?—”

“Sexual assault and battery,” Knox cuts in, and I watch the man’s face go pale. Dominic’s background check had been thorough. Too thorough, now that I think about what Marcus might be capable of.

I snatch the paper. “If he so much as touched her?—”

“He frequents O’Malley’s Bar on 5th, The Red Room downtown, and there’s a cabin retreat up at the other end of town,” Sterling rattles off. “Give me your number. I’ll make some calls, see if anyone’s seen him.”

I recite my number, already heading for the door, when his voice stops me.

“Mr. Reynolds.” There’s something heavy in his tone. “I want him alive.”

I turn, meeting his gaze.

“For his mother’s sake, I can’t bear to see him go that way,” Sterling continues, his voice hard. “But I promise you… if he’s done what we fear, I’ll make his life such hell, he’ll wish he was dead.”

The drive to Marcus’ mansion feels endless, each mile stretching like an eternity through the swirling snow. Knox barely says a word, the air in the car thick. I keep checking my phone, willing it to ring with news from Sterling or Ash. Instead, Dominic’s name flashes on the screen. I put it on speaker.

“She was fucking kidnapped.” Dominic’s words hit like bullets. “Yesterday, late afternoon.” There’s a sound like something shattering in the background, and knowing Dominic, it’s probably an expensive piece of tech meeting his fist. “I’ve got the footage. A black van, no plates, pulled up outside the bar. Two men in masks.” His voice breaks slightly. “They grabbed her. Ruby fought like hell, but they used something, probably chloroform. Those fucking cowards.”

The heaviness in my chest threatens to suffocate me. Knox’s hands tighten on the wheel, and I watch his jaw working as he grinds his teeth. She’s been gone, and we had no idea. I’ve been sitting in my brewery, drowning in self-pity while she...

“There’s more,” Knox forces out, his voice rough as old gravel. “Sterling told us something about Eve’s will. If Ruby’s not mated and married by Christmas Eve, Marcus inherits the bar.”

“That cock-sucking piece of shit!” Dominic’s voice explodes through the speaker. Something else crashes in the background. “He’s behind this. Has to be. The timing’s too fucking perfect.”

“Of course, that motherfucking bastard is,” Knox snarls, slamming his palm against the steering wheel. His usual easy-going nature is gone, replaced by something feral. “That’s his game? Keep her locked up until Christmas Eve passes?”

“Three days.” The words taste like ash in my mouth. “He only needs to hold her for three days, then she loses her bar.”

My fingers dig into my thighs hard enough to bruise. “Why didn’t she tell us about this? About any of it?”

“Because maybe she didn’t exactly trust us? Didn’t want to seem like she wanted our help?” Knox’s voice is bitter.

The snow’s coming down harder now, thick flakes dancing in the headlights. My brewing notebook digs into my back pocket. How many times had Ruby sat at my bar, helping me taste test new recipes while this deadline was hanging over her head? While that bastard was threatening everything she loved?

“We’re headed to Marcus’ mansion,” I tell Dominic. “I’m messaging you the address. Meet us there.”

“Already on my way.”

The mansion looms ahead of us through the storm, a sprawling Victorian monstrosity set back from the road. Dark windows stare out like dead eyes, and despite the perfectly maintained grounds, there’s something abandoned about the place. Dominic’s black Aston Martin is already parked out front.

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