Page 6 of Ice Cold Christmas
It truly would be easy to kill him.
A chime echoed in the house. Not really a house. A freaking mansion. A country estate outside of Richmond, Virginia. The chime meant another guest had arrived to join their party from hell.
Why in the world had Sebastian organized this horror show of a night? Especially with an impending snowstorm? But, oh, no, despite the weather reports, the guy had insisted that everyone show up. Said he had urgent matters to discuss.
This mansion was the last place Victor wanted to be. The snow had been falling heavily when he arrived, and, unfortunately, since the snowfall didn’t seem to be letting up any, Victor knew they’d all probably be stuck in the house until morning. Fucking hell.
He’d be stuck with more memories of Melody everywhere he turned. As if her ghost didn’t haunt him enough.
“Victor.” Sebastian’s weak voice. “Do you think my daughter is dead?”
He forced his back teeth to unclench. Don’t say it. Don’t. He’d held on to hope. At first, he’d been so sure there was a mistake. Melody couldn’t really be gone. She’d planned to meet him at her house. She’d been wearing his ring. She’d…
The doorbell rang again.
Dario turned toward the sound, frowning. “Just how many people were invited out here this weekend?”
“Hatterson will answer,” Sebastian waved away the ringing bell. He also didn’t answer Dario’s question. “Hatterson is on top of things like that.”
Hatterson. The butler, assistant, guard—all of the above. He tended to constantly be lurking around. Yes, he’d get the door. If the visitor hadn’t been invited, Hatterson would block access to the inner sanctum. Hatterson always got rid of problems. Snowstorm or not.
“Victor.” Sebastian’s voice was stronger than it had been in ages. Maybe the new medication was helping him. “Do you believe my daughter is dead?”
Is that why Sebastian had called for this little gathering? Maybe he was finally going to give in to Dario’s urging and change the family will. Yeah, right. Good luck with that.
Victor lifted the wine glass to his lips. Barely tasted the two-hundred-dollar-a-bottle wine that had come from some lush vineyard somewhere in France. Then he said the words that he knew would haunt him forever, “Yes, Melody is dead. Probably fucking buried somewhere.” I will find the sonofabitch who took her from me. Even if it’s the last thing I do, and I will bury him. But first, I will make him hurt. I will make him bleed. I will make him beg. “So we have to stop expecting her to show up.” He had to stop expecting to just turn around and see her. She was never going to walk in a room again and flash her dimpled smile his way. Her green eyes weren’t going to light up when she looked at him. “I’m sorry, Sebastian.” Each word tore from him. “But Melody is never coming home again.”
Never.
And it was time for him to accept that stark truth, too.
Damn…but he really wanted to murder someone. And I will. As soon as I find the bastard who took my Melody away, I will murder him.
She rang the doorbell for a third time as she stood on the stone porch, with snowflakes swirling around her. The wind kept kicking up and tossing them her way. Every breath she took had a little patch of white fog appearing in front of her mouth because it was positively frigid outside.
Would it kill the people in the giant mansion to open a door when they had a visitor? She was just about to go for ring number four when the door finally flew open.
She pasted a bright smile on her face. “Thank goodness!”
The man in the doorway—silver threading through his hair, a neatly trimmed beard on his face—blinked at her.
She barreled inside before he could speak. “I was turning into a popsicle outside.” Snow fell onto the floor as she stomped her boots. Then she hauled off her coat and put it on the rack near the door. A battered wool coat she’d picked up from a thrift shop. She loved that coat. It had kept her warm on plenty of cold nights. More snowflakes sprinkled down onto the floor, though they quickly melted in the warm room. Voices rose and fell from a room down the hallway, drawing her attention. “Is that where everyone is?”
He didn’t speak. Just stared. Kinda gaped.
“Right.” She flashed another broad smile at him. “I’ll just go greet them, shall I? Could you do me a major favor and bring in my bag? It’s on the porch. Thanks so much.”
She didn’t give him a chance to respond. Hopefully, the bag grabbing would keep him busy.
Her steps double-timed it as she hurried down the narrow hallway. She didn’t glance inside the room to the right. The library. Or look up at the massive staircase. Her gaze remained directed dead ahead.
“Eventually, a body will be discovered.” A man’s deep, rumbling voice.
She shivered and tried to pretend the shiver was just from the walk through all the snow. Her worn boots hadn’t exactly protected her feet. Her toes felt icy. Come to think of it, her entire body seemed to be encased in ice. Because I am terrified.
“Melody is gone,” that voice continued, making her heart twist, “and she’s not coming back.”
For just a moment, she paused on the threshold of the room. A big, too-fancy room with lots of leather furniture, a crackling fireplace, and a tree that had every single limb decorated. She sucked in a deep breath and then… “Merry Christmas, everyone,” she announced.
