Page 20 of Gambit
“You don’t need to come with me, it’s fine.”
“Eliza, we are not leaving you alone, ever again,” James cuts me off as now all of them are awake and joining in the conversation. It’s tender yet fierce, a silent promise that he’s here for me, always.
“Not even to go to the bathroom?” I crack, my attempt at lightening the mood as I climb off the bed and head towards the bathroom.
“Maybe only then,” Tarquin calls out, a smirk in his voice that I can hear without seeing.
“Very funny,” I toss back over my shoulder.
The shower’s spray is a cascade of warmth, washing away the remnants of the nightmare. Being quick because no one, not even me, keeps Damon Hughes waiting, I towel off, finding myself alone in my room as the guys have gone off to get ready. I dress quickly, choosing practicality over style—a simple pair of jeans and tee, boots, and a black jacket.
“Ready?” Oliver asks as I emerge into the hallway.
“Let’s get this over with.”
The five of us head downstairs, and James takes the wheel of my Merc, easing us into the morning traffic with the precision of a getaway driver. I sit in the back, sandwiched between Raph and Oliver, while Tarquin rides shotgun, tossing occasional comments about the scenery passing by.
“Eliza, you’ve got this,” Tarquin murmurs, looking at me over his shoulder.
“I know,” I reply curtly, because what else can I do when every mile brings me closer to Dad’s interrogation room disguised as a home office? “There’s just a lot to unpack here. I haven’t even seen him since Lila and Felix. I might be a while. You guys don’t have to stay.”
“Whatever happens, we’ve got your back,” Oliver says softly, and I nod, grateful for the reassurance despite the swarm ofbutterflies in my stomach. They won’t leave me even if I begged them to.
Eventually, we pull into the driveway of my dad’s mansion, the estate sprawling before us like some sort of gothic fortress. Always a safe haven, it now feels like a cage about to trap me and never let me out.
“Wait in the living room,” I instruct the guys as we enter the Entrance Hall. They nod and breeze past Vince, my dad’s solid, giant enforcer, who gives me a dark stare before he turns away.
Shit.
He isn’t one for cuddles and pleasantries anyway, but that was ominous as fuck.
Feeling the familiar surge of adrenaline as I approach Dad’s study. I square my shoulders and push the door open.
“Eliza,” Dad greets, his voice a low rumble of authority. His gaze appraises me from head to toe. I walk toward him, my steps measured, my heartbeat a steady drum in my chest.
“Hey, Dad,” I murmur. “What’s this about? I was sleeping.”
“Sit,” he commands, gesturing to the chair across from his desk. I comply, sinking into the leather seat, ready to play the game of wits and wills.
“First off, we need to discuss Lila.”
“Do we have to? Bitch is dead.”
“Yes, I’m aware, and I know you killed her, with Felix along for the ride. Care to share?”
“If you know that much, you already know. It’s not a problem. I don’t care. She killed Mum and was a total bitch to her son. Felix and I are good, and the bitch is dead. What more is there to add? Oh, actually, one thing: I told Felix I’d pave the way for you to accept him as a Hughes. He really wants to be your son, and I think you need to give that to him. For what it’s worth, you know?”
Shut up, bitch. You’re rambling, and he is going to see straight through you.
He raises an eyebrow and glares at me, those icy blue eyes giving nothing away. “Do you now?”
“Yep.”
Dad narrows his eyes. “Well, we’re not here to discuss Felix, and you’re sidestepping, Elizabeth.’“
I bite down on my lip, holding back a retort. He’s good at this game—the art of interrogation—a skill he’s passed on to me. But today, I’m not his protege; I’m his opponent. “What do you want to know? I told you I’m good about the Lila thing.”
“Who are your friends at university?” he asks out of the blue. “Any new faces? Any new enemies?”
