Page 28 of Betrayal (Corrupt Empire 1)

“What do they think happened to me?”

“All they know is you’re missing.”

She looked down at her plate.

“Your uncle has people looking for you.”

Her doe eyes met mine again, her expression hardening.

“Uncle Charlie? I bet he’s pissed off more than anything else. How do you know about what he’s doing?”

I frowned. It didn’t sound like she had any love for Chuck.

“What makes you think he’s pissed off?”

“He hates that my dad’s will made sure I would inherit the company and their money in the event of his death. The board signed off on it. Nothing he can do about it from a legal standpoint. So ergo, he kind of hates me, but I don’t care. He’s a dick.”

I smiled, unable to help myself. If Avery hated her uncle, then it would make things easier.

“What did he ever do to you?”

Her eyes flashed with pain for a moment.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she muttered. “And you didn’t tell me how you know my uncle.”

I made a note to make sure I found out what had gone on between Chuck and her. If he’d done anything to hurt her, I’d seriously consider putting a bullet in the fucker’s head right now. I knew he had some sick perversions. His death needed to be drawn out.

I wished I could’ve drawn out Mitchell and Kathleen’s deaths, but I’d had to settle for quick and painless. The only person who’d been hurt was the girl in front of me.

“I know everyone in your family.”

She stared at me with confusion written all over her face.

“Even the ones from my great aunt’s side?”

“Even them.”

Her great aunt, Matilda, was dead just like her grandfather, Nicholas Daniels. Her daughter and two sons were alive. The men, Troy and Arthur, were just as deeply involved as Mitchell and Chuck. The sick family business.

“How?”

“I think you know enough, for now, Avery.”

I was done with her questions. She wasn’t ready for the truth. Not after her little breakdown earlier. I couldn’t shatter her illusions about her parents and the rest of her family just yet.

She looked as though she might argue for a moment, but she picked up her fork and started eating again. I did the same.

I could feel her eyes on me every so often. I wondered what she was thinking. How she’d processed what I told her.

She set her knife and fork down when she was done. I’d long finished and was sipping my beer.

“I’m tired,” she whispered.

“Finish your drink and you can go to bed.”

“Are you going to put me back in the cell?”

“No.”

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