Page 85 of Ruthless God

“Does anyone ever join him?”

“Only Agnes.”

I hum under my breath, turning away from the window. I have questions. And only Claudius can answer them. I move quietly, slipping out of the room, my footsteps soft against thecold floor. This is risky. I don’t know where the cameras are, but I know they exist. I can’t see them. But I can feel them. Watching. Waiting.

I stop by my room, grabbing a pair of sandals, and then I head downstairs. In the living room, I pause. Agnes is nowhere in sight. I don’t hesitate. I cross the room, heading straight for the French doors that lead outside. Slowly—so slowly—I push it open, stepping outside. The moment the morning air hits my skin, I breathe. Deep, cleansing. Like I’ve been starving for this. Sunlight spills over me, warming the places I didn’t even realize had gone cold. God. It feels like forever since I’ve been outside.

I glance over my shoulder, back at the house. Back at the prison. How many women are still in there? Do they ever get to feel this? The thought settles like a stone in my chest.

And then I move. Toward the cemetery. Toward Claudius. Toward the truth.

As I approach, I spot two men coming from the opposite direction.

Both carry shovels. Both wear coveralls.

Grave diggers.

A slow chill runs down my spine as I come to a stop next to Claudius. His posture is rigid, his gaze fixed on the tombstone.

“Who are they?”

He doesn’t look at me. “They’re here to dig up my brother’s remains.”

My lips part. “What?”

“You heard me.” His voice is calm, too calm, considering what he’s saying. Then he shifts, glancing at me from the corner of his eye. “You brought up a good question when you asked if his remains were tested. This will answer the question once and for all of who lies in this grave.”

I swallow hard. The air feels too thick.

“And if it’s not him?”

His eyes find mine. Dark and unwavering.

“Then I know the person I’m hunting is my twin.”

My throat goes dry. I moisten my lips, pushing past the lump of dread forming in my gut.

“And if it is him?”

His jaw tightens.

“That’s a bit more difficult.”

He finally tears his gaze from me, staring back at the headstone.

“If Gabriel’s body lies here, then that means someone has gone to extremes to take over his life.” His voice dips into something low and lethal. “Either way, someone is going to pay.”

The men reach us. They stop, waiting. One of them dips his head.

“Good morning, Mr. Irons.”

Claudius doesn’t hesitate. “Morning. I hope your journey was smooth.”

The man nods. “It was.”

But it won’t be soon. Not when they start digging. Not when they pull up the past. Because whatever lies beneath that soil, well, it’s going to change everything.

Claudius watches the grave diggers shove their shovels into the dirt. Metal scrapes against the hardened ground. A sharp, jarring sound that feels too final.

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