Page 151 of Beautiful Exile

I raced into the house,skidding to a stop as I looked around. Cope’s place was too damned big. And with the staccato pattern of darkness and moonlight, there were too many places for someone who wanted to do harm to hide. I didn’t have the first idea where to start looking. But then I realized it didn’t matter. I just had to get to Arden.

Shewas all that mattered.

I started toward the steps, picking up to a jog. But then I heard it. Voices.

Stilling at the bottom of the steps, I strained to listen.

“I’m not going to kill my son, no matter how much of a disappointment he is. But I will kill you.”

Each word was like a blow from a heavyweight champ wearing brass knuckles. Because I knew the owner of that voice, the wielder of that cruelty and vitriol.

My father.

Everything swirled in a mixture of confusion and fury. My fatherwas here. Threatening Arden. None of it made sense. I knew he hated me. But enough to kill the woman I loved?

A soft growl sounded next to me, and I glanced down to see Brutus. My fingers latched onto his collar instantly, holding him back. Not until it was time.

I kept my grip on Brutus but began creeping up the stairs, straining to hear every word.

The sound of Arden’s voice was a sweet relief, but the words she spoke nearly brought me to my knees. “You killed my parents.”

My father scoffed. “Ihave never killed anyone. Did I touch a weapon all those years ago? No. Have I used this gun in my hand? It’s only for protection. I’m a man with jealous enemies, after all.”

“You pulled the strings. That makes you just as guilty,” Arden snapped.

“Does it, though?” he cooed. “I’m just a man who likes to make sure the job is doneright. Likes to see the blood of his enemies pour from their veins. The life drain from their eyes.”

“And what did my parents ever do to you? My father didn’t want to keep going with your sick game? So what?” Arden’s voice trembled with fury or fear, maybe a mix of both. I wasn’t sure.

“Such a promising colleague, with an impressive legal brain and a gift for finding all sorts of loopholes in the law. You can imagine my disappointment when he suddenly decided to end our association. I’m afraid he ultimately proved to be nothing more than a weak waste of space. He wanted to be a part of my world and run in the circles of the trueelite,but he wasn’t willing to pay the price. Wanted the prize but never the payment.”

I reached the top of the stairs, pressing myself against the wall to keep Brutus and me hidden. Hugging the corner, I could just see around the wall, and the image cast in the moonlight had fury burning through my veins.

Part of my brain recognized my father, his back to me, a gun gripped in his hand. But at the same time, he was completely unrecognizable, a monster of nightmares. And those nightmares were Arden’s.

“He paid the price,” Arden rasped. “He would’ve paid anything. He just didn’t want to keep throwing cases.”

I couldn’t see her, not yet. I just needed to take another step or two without getting my father’s attention.

He made a tsking sound as he cocked his head to one side. “Now, Sheridan. My clients trust me to fix things for them to secure a certain outcome. The trade of a stock with insider knowledge. A child gaining admission to the appropriate university when their grades aren’t quite up to snuff. The tipping of a case one way or the other for completely justifiable reasons. How are they going to trust that a judge who suddenly grows a conscience will keep his mouth shut?”

I climbed one step then another, trying to keep a hold of Brutus’s collar. But the moment I reached the second to last stair, I only had eyes for Arden. Her already-blood-spattered dress had a couple of tears in it now, and someone had her in a tight grip, a knife pressed to her neck.

My body jerked slightly as I recognizedwhohad Arden. Farah. I flipped through my memories, trying to remember everything I could about the woman. An artist from New York who’d come to Sparrow Falls seeking new inspiration and a change of pace. Not exactly someone I could see teaming up with my dad.

But the New York tie… That was something. And maybe Farah wasn’t an artist at all. I’d never seen her create pieces that required technical skill. Had never heard her discuss her friends’ creations with any deep knowledge. Maybe it had all been a lie. A façade.

“He would’ve stayed silent,” Arden whispered. “To keep my mom and me safe. He would’ve kept your dirty secrets.”

My father laughed at that as if she’d told him some hilarious joke. “But your mother already knew, didn’t she? Why else would she have offered me money the way she did that night? Sheknewyour father had betrayed me. He stole from me in a way. And I can’t stand for that.”

What he couldn’t stand for was anyone having power over him. Anything that could cost him even a sliver of his kingdom.

“How does it feel, Farah?” Arden ground out. “Knowing you’ll take the fall for this greedy prick?”

Farah gripped Arden’s hair harder, giving her a good shake. “I don’t take the fall foranyone. I line up the dominoes for someone else’s demise.”

“Not this time,” Arden rasped. “He’s lying to you. He knows they won’t believe Hannah did this on her own. Cutting the power takes planning, and Hannah’s been in lockup.”

---