Page 105 of Ruthless God

I blink, absorbing the information. “I see they weren’t successful.”

“Now isn’t the time, Irons.” His voice is edged with frustration, but beneath it is fear. “You said I’d be safe. That Aimée and the kids would be safe.”

“And your mistress?” I ask, unimpressed. “Not worried about her?”

“Fuck you.”

I sigh. “So someone tried to kill you. Was anyone injured?”

“Only me.” He pauses. “It’s not bad. Not like last time.”

“Good.” I strum my fingers against the polished wood of my desk, thinking.

Blanc is a pain in my ass, but he’s right. He should have been safe in Dallas. I think back to the text Cecely got. How the man knew Blanc was in Dallas. I refuse to admit that it might really be Gabriel.

“We need a new plan.” My tone shifts, becoming colder. “You’re not safe in Dallas.”

“You think?”

I ignore the sarcasm, my mind already five steps ahead.

“There’s only one place on this earth that’s safe.”

Blanc exhales. “And that would be?”

I lean forward, smirking slightly, though he can’t see it. “My island.”

Silence. A pause just long enough for him to realize I’m serious.

“Fine. When do you want us there?”

“Give me two days to make the arrangements.” My voice is steady, controlled. “This goes without saying, but tell no one where you’re going.”

“I won’t.” A hesitation. “And Beatrice? What about her?”

My grip tightens slightly on the phone.

Beatrice Blight. Also known as Cecely’s mother.

“That’s up to you.”

Blanc exhales sharply. “Bring her, too.”

I don’t react. Don’t let my voice waver. “I’ll be in contact later.”

I end the call before he can say anything else, pressing my fingers together, my mind already shifting gears.

I should find Cecely.

Let her know.

Prepare her for what’s coming.

But there are other things that need my attention first.

Like figuring out what in the fuck Agnes has been up to behind my back.

Because something isn’t adding up.

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