Page 97 of Broken Pawn

CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR

VANESSA

When the door opened and a man entered, Ethan had his revolver ready andpointed.

"It's Tristan," Ethan and I both said, both recognizing him.

Despite seeing the two of us, Tristan did not lower his guard. "Are you okay, boss? Is there anyone else here?" Tristan inquired, his gaze shifting from Ethan to me.

Ethan motioned to the floor behind him, and Tristan noticed Luke's body on the ground. Tristan's lips were moving, but he didn't say anything. His gaze was drawn back to the man who had entered the room after him. It was Dylan.

Heraised his eyes to Ethan. He recognized the person who had murdered his father right away, but he clearly struggled to accept it.

His thoughts were visible on his face, but like Ethan, I regarded the bereaved son with suspicion. I wondered if he was aware of his father's plans. If that was the case, the pistol in his hand was extremely dangerous.

What will he do? I worried as I looked at both of them.

They all turned to Dylan, waiting for his reaction as none of them put down their weapons.

"Whathappened here?" Dylan asked, his voice dry and bizarre. His pistol swung uncomfortably in his hand as he spoke, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. He was agitated, staring directly at me.

I wondered if he blamed me because I was clearly a co-conspirator in his father's murder or because he was aware of his father's plans. I couldn't tell, but I kept my gaze fixed on him for fear of any sudden movement.

"Justice was served." I dared to say something, and he glared at me. And in that moment, Ihad no doubt that he was aware of Luke's plans. His eyes were filled with hatred rather than shock at his father's death. He held me responsible.

"Your father betrayed the family, Dylan," Ethan said authoritatively, raising his shoulders again.

Tristan aimed his pistol at Dylan.

"I need to know if you were with him, if you planned to take over the family by eliminating me like your father," Ethan stated flatly.

Dylan's enraged stare softened as he realized his life depended on his next answers. He raised his pistol above his head in a surrender gesture before slipping it back into his holster.

I would have felt more at ease if Dylan had handed over the pistol, but the sheathing of the weapon was sufficient. Ethan, on the other hand, did not let go of his revolver, ready to use it at any time.

Dylan didn't look at me as he walked toward his father,kneeling beside him.

"I asked you a question," Ethan said again, not feeling sorry for his cousin.

"Why?"Dylan looked at Ethan, who had a stone-like expression on his face. He wasn't expecting a response from him, and he certainly didn't get one. But when he looked at me, I couldn't help but speak. I had to say something because the whole situation was making me nervous.

Fear, I remembered, had been a tool Luke had used with me. I couldn't tell if Dylan was the same as his father, but I knew I was sick of being scared. So I walked over to him, shielded by Ethan's revolver.

I told Dylan the words that Ethan refused to say to him because, despite his cruel treatment, I knew he still believed in his cousin's innocence.

"Your father did some things," I told Dylan. He can't hurt you. He is outnumbered, I reminded myself as I moved closer to him, hoping he would reveal his true nature to the others.

"He murdered my uncle and tried to killEthan."

"Is that true?" Tristan asked. Ethan nodded, and Tristan raised his pistol again, this time aimed at Dylan, who was still crouched next to his father's body.

"Yes, but he didn't kill Fred himself," Ethan said, still feeling kinship with Dylan. "Who suggested that we meet here?"

Tristan replied, "It was Dylan." Curiosity for the answer to Ethan's question made me turn away from Dylan for a second

I turned sharply to Dylan as soon as I heard his response. I noticed him move quickly towards me and tried to back away from him, throwing my arms out of his reach. Dylan had intended to grab me, but he had not intended to go for my wrists, as I had assumed.

When his cold, hard hand closed around my calf and drew me to him, I screamed.

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