Page 4 of Heart of Stone (Dark Billionaires)

Where her bedroom at home was a plain creation of poverty, providing only the bare essentials, this room had been designed by a master craftsman. Dark blue panelling covered the walls, contrasting against the stark white decorative coving. The ceiling hadn’t been spared, with a rose medallion stretching out to all four corners of the room. At its centre hung an elegant chandelier, scattering light over the king size bed draped in a foliate-themed bedspread in a dangerously dark midnight blue. A matching sofa was positioned in front of the bed, upholstered in a lustrous fabric that Kate knew would be silky to the touch. She pulled in an endlessly satisfying lungful of the scent pervading the room. It was intoxicating; she wanted to bathe in its warmth.

There were matching elements everywhere; the cream leather headboard matched the bedside tables, the sofa matched the bed, the cushions on the sofa matched the enormous circular rug under the bed, all reflected in an enormous mirror running along the length of the wall opposite the curtains.

The curtains themselves were no less luxurious. Floor to ceiling windows peeked out behind the kind of sweeping drapes Kate had only seen in films; heavy pleated fabric topped by matching cornices. The faded blue curtains she had in her bedroom looked like rags in comparison.

The thought hit her like a ton of bricks. A reminder of her constant poverty. A reminder that by twenty-two she should have had her life in gear. Instead, she lived in her father’s ratty house filled with the cheapest of possessions and a sparsely populated fridge that was only ever visited by food from the reduced section.

Here, though…

Even the lamps screamedmoney.

I hate poverty.The constant feeling of it bearing down on her shoulders whilst she desperately tried to clamber out from underneath it, compounded by her father digging deeper beneath their feet.

Kate looked up to Brax, hating him and the room in equal measure. The only emotion she could bring herself to feel. “How long for? Hours? Days?”

“Until Stone decides you can leave.” Brax walked to the door, dipping his head slightly to get through it. A long corridor could be seen behind his bulk, with furnishings of gold running along its length.

“Who is Stone? And what about my father? What’s going to happen to him?”

“Stone is my employer.” Brax looked down at her with something like pity. Or disgust. “But I would be more worried about yourself, Ms Charlton.”

“Why?” she asked, panicking. The disgusting luxury of her bedroom had lulled her away from the tied-to-a-chair torture she had been envisaging. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

Before he locked the door, Brax left her with a single question. “Haven’t you?”

In the silence that remained, Kate’s attention swirled around the room. She sat on the bed. Or, rather, she sat on the silken cloud masquerading as a bed.How can something be this soft?

Money.

Kate ran over to the window, desperate to find any indication of where she was being imprisoned. She almost laughed at the view in front of her. The open window let in still, warm air perfumed with the sound of crickets and summer insects. The rising moon was full and bright, casting soft, silvery rays on the garden. The garden—if she could call it that—was enormous. If she squinted, she could make out a stone path winding through the flowers and shrubs, leading to a picturesque pond.

Where thefuck am I?

Brax’s question stayed with her, prodding at her brain. Kate locked onto the bedroom door, dreading what—or who—was behind it.Hadshe done something wrong? Her teeth worried at her bottom lip as she pondered the question.

She had enabled her father for far too long, that was for sure. Charlton’s Gentlemen’s Club would have gone under years ago had it not been for her, but was that a crime? She thought of all the times she’d overlooked some of the Club’s transactions. The stolen goods. The money laundering. The tax evasion. She pressed her lips together. But no one was beinghurtby it. There was no victim there. The stolen goods were taken from massive companies whose insurance would cover everything.

Kate hugged her arms around herself. What was happening to Dad at this very moment? Were those men hurting him? Were they going to hurt her? Was this entire bedroom-fit-for-a-king situation a way to lull her into a false sense of security?

She flinched as a door somewhere in the house slammed with such force it rattled the mirror on the wall.

The unknown pecked at her brain with all the delicacy of a sledgehammer. Leaping to her feet, Kate traced the perimeters of the room. Her lips parted when she entered the en-suite. The shower alone was enormous enough to need two showerheads and six downlights—something she found ridiculous.

The sharp sound of the bedroom door closing behind her had Kate jumping up in fright.

A man cleared his throat; a gravelly noise that put her on edge. Had Brax returned to pull the rest of her hair out? The drive here had given her plenty of time to enjoy his company, after he’d shoved a bag on her head and thrust her into what she assumed was a van.

Kate inched around the corner. Relief loomed large when she saw it wasn’t Brax but—

“Warren?” she breathed, unable to believe her eyes.

He was so like the teenager she’d once trailed after like a lovesick puppy, recognisable underneath the sinister guise of a tall, scowling man. Not even his locks of jet black hair could shadow his glittering emerald eyes. Black stubble grazed his cheeks. Where the Warren she’d known had been lanky, a wiry boy not yet having grown into a man,thisWarren stood proudly. A man in his prime, with the wide shoulders, dark beard, and tattoos to match.

A smile broke through her worry, shattering it into a thousand pieces. Kate crossed the room on wobbly legs to throw herself into his arms. “Warren,” she hit his unexpectedly solid chest, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping her afloat in a sea of misery. “I thought you were still in prison,” she choked, pulling his once-familiar scent into her lungs.

Warren’s arms remained at his side.

She reared back. “You’re taller than the last time I saw you.”Aaron’s death.Her lips tightened at that. Kate had been so relieved to see a friendly face she’d forgotten what he’d done.

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