Page 56 of House of Soot

Aren't I?

"Miss Hart's mother had surgery today," I say, keeping my voice carefully neutral despite the rage churning in my gut.

"Did she now?" Ronan straightens his already perfect tie. "Perhaps I should pay her a visit. Show the staff we care about their personal matters."

My fingers curl into fists behind my back. The audacity of this entitled prick, pretending to care now when his momwouldn't even let Jenna take time off to get her mother to the hospital.

“I suspect there’s limited visitation.”

"Ah, well." He shrugs, utterly unbothered. In fact, he’s probably relieved he doesn’t have to make a show of concern.

I think he’s going to move on to the next thing when he says, “But I can go offer my support to Miss Hart. A pretty girl like her shouldn’t be alone at such a time. I bet I could make her feel better.”

The men around us snicker. My vision goes red. My hands shake with the effort not to kill him here and now.

"Besides. It's been a while since I've had a little fun with the help. And she's certainly… blossomed recently."

I force myself to breathe slowly, to maintain my neutral expression even as murder pounds through my veins. I can't blow my cover, not when we're so close. But God help me, the thought of him touching her…

I force myself to take a deep, steadying breath, pushing down the murderous rage threatening to explode. "Sir, with respect, shouldn't we focus on the upcoming party?" I keep my voice measured, professional. "There's been talk of potential threats, and your father stressed the importance of maintaining appearances with the other families."

"Always so serious," Ronan says with that dismissive wave I'm growing to hate. "But I suppose you're right. Can't have anything disrupting our little soirée. The other families are already circling like vultures after those ridiculous allegations and these petty attacks."

I seethe at his casual reference to my parents' murder as 'ridiculous allegations'.

“Then again, she could know something. The staff are often the best sources of information.”

I still at his words. Is that why he’d asked Jenna about secret ways into the house?

"I could speak with her, sir," I say, keeping my voice casual. "Find out if she's noticed anything suspicious around the grounds. You have more important things to deal with than talking to the gardener.”

Ronan's eyes narrow slightly. "You don’t think I can talk to her?”

“I know you can, but as head of security, it's my job to investigate all potential leads." I shrug, affecting an air of professional detachment. "As the gardener, she has the most access to the perimeter. If anyone's been testing our defenses, she might have seen something. But it’s my job to find it out. You have more pressing issues to deal with."

He studies me for a long moment, and I force myself to meet his gaze steadily.

"Fine," he says finally, though his tone suggests he's not entirely convinced. "But I want a full report of anything she tells you. And don't think this means I won't have my own chat with her eventually."

My fingers twitch at the implied threat, but I maintain my neutral expression. "Of course, sir. I'll speak with her now."

"See that you do." He straightens that damn tie again. "Now, about the security rotation for the party…"

I let out a slow breath as he moves on to other topics. I make my exit proud that I haven’t killed him yet. Knowing I will do so soon is the only reason I have the self-control to hold back now.

I head to Jenna’s cottage. When she opens the door, I see a mix of emotions playing across her face—exhaustion, worry, hope.

"Hey."

"Blaise!" She throws herself into my arms, and I catch her automatically, breathing in the familiar scents of flowers andearth that cling to her skin. "Mom made it through surgery. The doctors say it went really well."

I hold her tighter, feeling her slight trembles. "That's great news."

"They say the next few days are critical." Her voice quavers. "There's still a risk of rejection, and she's so weak…" She pulls back just enough to look up at me, tears gathering in her eyes. "I'm scared. What if?—”

"Hey, no." I cup her face in my hands, thumbs brushing away the tears that escape. "Your mom's tough. She made it this far, didn't she?"

Jenna nods, leaning into my touch. The complete trust in her expression makes my chest ache. She has no idea who I really am or why I'm here.

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