Page 158 of The Colour of Revenge
“Around the same time your father was murdered.”
I let out a sharp, fractured breath. My hand flies to my chest, just a little too dramatic but not enough to be suspicious. My eyes glisten, and a single tear slips down my cheek. “You don’t think Lucian—” I inhale shakily. “You don’t think he did this, do you?” My voice wavers, the panic feigned—and yet, somehow, real.
“No…” The detective hesitates, his brow furrowing as he watches my reaction. “It looks like a robbery gone wrong, but it wouldn’t hurt to look into that angle. Lucian’s been… elusive, to say the least.”
He doesn’t believe me. Not completely.
I twist my hands together in my lap, playing the grieving, helpless daughter to perfection. “I hope you catch whoever did this,” I say softly, my voice trembling with the right amount of distress.
“We will, Naomi,” he reassures me, his hand resting on mine for just a second too long, a small gesture meant to comfort. “Don’t worry.”
It takes everything in me not to flinch at the name.
After my father’s announcement to the world of my return I knew I wouldn’t be able to hide much longer.
But I’m not her.
Even if the world thinks I am.
I nod, offering him a watery smile as he pulls his hand away. He and his partner exchange a quick look before excusing themselves, leaving me alone in the silence of the room.
As the door clicks shut behind them, I let out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding, the weight of the performance lifting slightly.
“How’d it go, Princess?” Nate asks, his voice low as he walks into the room and drops down onto the sofa next to me, throwing one arm around the back of the couch casually.
“I think they believed me,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Good,” he replies, satisfaction tugging the corners of his mouth up. “What do—”
“Nate!”
The door slams open, and Evelyn, Nate’s mother, stumbles in, her face pale and twisted with panic. Kai stands behind her in the doorway, eyes wide. He must have been the one to let her in. Her usually pristine composure is shattered, and she doesn’t even glance at me before collapsing into Nate’s arms.
“They found your father’s body,” she gasps, her voice cracking with the weight of the words. Her whole frame trembles as she clutches him, her sobs raw and jagged.
The air in the room drops ten degrees.
I freeze.
The blood drains from my face, and a wave of nausea clenches my stomach.
No.
No, no, no.
My chest tightens as the shock ripples through me, but I force myself to stay calm.
Nate stiffens, his hands gripping his mother’s shoulders tightly, his jaw set like stone. “What?” he demands, his voice low and sharp, a deadly edge creeping in.
Evelyn’s entire frame shakes as she grips him tighter. “They found parts of him,” she sobs, her words tumbling out in gasps.
The words punch through me. I go still.
“In the Thames,” she sobs, barely able to get the words out. “Chopped up and scattered. They’re saying it’s foul play.” She breaks down again, shaking violently against him.
I don’t have to look at Nate to feel his fury. The heat of his gaze sears through me, and when I finally meet his eyes, my breath hitches. His expression hardens into something cold, calculating—a storm brewing just beneath the surface.
Fuck.
