Page 97 of Reluctant Heir

Viktor stands and walks to the cart, taking a napkin and handing it to me.

“Thank you.”

He remains standing, staring down at me. “My help isn’t free. It comes with a price.”

“Okay,” I say, nodding. I expected this.

“You owe me a favor, Wryn Soltorre, and you can’t say no when I cash it in.”

“A favor?” I stare up at him.

What favor could he possibly want from me?

“A favor. Now, I have a few phone calls to make.”

I stand, and he steps closer to me. He takes the coffee cup, setting it on the tray, and then he pulls my hand into his. His palm is warm, and it surprises me. I think I expected his skin to be cold for some reason.

“I hope you find your friend,” he says.

I stare up at him, and his head lowers, his lips pressing against my cheek as he kisses me. I can smell his cologne. It chokes me, and I try not to cough. His presence is suffocating.

Before I pass out, he pulls back, smiling down at me. I can feel my cheek burning.

“Always a pleasure, Wryn.” He drops my hand, and without a backward glance, he strides from the room.

The maid comes back in and gestures for me to follow her, and it’s only after I’m outside, seated beside Geo in our rented vehicle, that I realize she never spoke to me. Maybe I shouldn’t have ever spoken either.

25

CONNOR

Iam remorseful. It’s not a sentiment that I often feel. Remorse was beaten out of me by my father years ago. But I’m also fearful. Not when facing men’s fists or bullets from metal guns. No, a woman brought me down, made me feel, and that first emotion was fear.

I regret my actions now. I’m going to die, and I didn’t tell her how I felt. Instead, I pushed her away, made her cry. I wanted to dig my talons in so deep that she couldn’t claw herself back out and leave, but I didn’t. I wanted her close, and yet I wanted her so far away. She scared me.

She might think she was only a means to an end, but the truth is, she is my end. I convinced her she didn’t matter to me beyond a business deal. But she’s all that matters to me right now as I find myself shackled in a dark room.

I taunted her, told her I would murder her, flipped a switch so suddenly that she got whiplash.

The light flicks on, bringing me back to the real world and not lost inside my mind. When you are stuck in the dark, it’s hard, not retreating into thoughts. Playing the last few moments over and over.

What would I have done differently?

It doesn’t matter. I’m here now, and I’m going to die. I know what my fate is. It’s four against one. I laid myself on a silver platter for them to torture and kill.

I open swollen eyes, blinking and looking at who is in the room with me now. Lucas is holding the door open as Paul, William, Vincent, and Antonio file in. Varying degrees of glee and hate on their faces. They have a traitor in their midst, and it’s time to dole out punishment—their favorite thing.

Flashbacks to my childhood flit through my mind as they circle the room.

I watch Lucas, trying to figure him out.

What is his endgame? To play both sides?

There’s only one side left now—theirs.

I wonder what will happen to Wryn. They will take everything from her. She will be killed or cast out or sold maybe. She hasn’t been here long enough for any of them to care. She’s a Soltorre now, so they will want her gone.

My stomach clenches at the thought. I did this to her. I signed her death warrant. I am a fool. My father was always right.

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