Page 7 of Heart of Stone (Dark Billionaires)

Kate was on her feet in an instant, standing before him in the same creased clothes she’d worn last night. “Warren,” she said, her lips tightening.

Not troubling himself with a greeting, he tightly clasped her wrist and dragged her from the room, ignoring his body’s response to her. Ignoring the urge to lock the door behind them and lick every inch of her skin.

“Wait,” she begged. “Please, Warren. You’re hurting me.”

He didn’t spare her a look as he wrenched her down the back stairwell. A clean, white shaft that would allow them to directly descend two storeys to the cellars.

“Where are you taking me?” Her question echoed around the cavernous space. “Warren,” she panted, struggling to keep up as he rounded yet another set of stairs. “I can’t walk this fast.”

And yet she did.

Finally, he pressed his thumb to the scanner on the cellar door and hauled her inside. They met a long corridor dotted with heavy doors, each with its own fingerprint scanner. With a macabre smirk, he steered her into the room from which her father had so recently departed. A sizeable pool of blood remained on the floor, congealing where it lay into a thick red soup. Red handprints could be seen around the space, as well as great red droplets scattered like seeds in the wind.

“Whose blood is that?” Kate’s voice was high as she stepped away from him, cradling her wrist.

“Sit.” He gestured to the small table and chairs in the corner. A command, not a request.

Kate edged around the room, avoiding her father’s blood with every step, arriving at the table with the whites of her eyes on full view around her pupil.

Warren’s grin was a lazy one. “Are you scared, kitten?”

“Why are you doing this, Warren?” She finally pulled her focus away from the ocean of blood on the floor, curling her arms around herself as she sat.

He took the seat opposite her, leaning across the table. To his left was a box file full of the same documents he’d shown to Paul. “Because I can.”

Because I deserve to.

“Where is William Graves?” he asked her, pinning her to the chair with a heavy glare.

“I don’t know who that is.” Her eyes widened when her gaze finally fell on his knuckles. “What happened to your hands?”

He kept his face neutral. A simple thing. “What do you think happened to my hands?”

“Have you killed my father?” she whispered, nothing more than a hushed exhale. Her voice rose with every word. “Is that his blood? Is he dead?”

“Your father is alive,” he told her.Just.

Relief swamped her face.

“For now.”

It disappeared just as quickly beneath the fierce knotting of her brows. “What?”

“If you answer my questions, we can keep it that way. At present, he has all his fingers and toes—amongst other things I’m sure he is rather attached to. If you lie to me, I will begin removing them. I will make you watch. And then I’ll start on you. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she squeaked, pale as a ghost.

“Good,” he tilted his head to the side. “William Graves. Where is he?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know who that is.”

For fuck’s sake. Paul hadn’t known the man’s whereabouts either. “What is your precise role as part of your father’s club?”

“I’m the bookkeeper,” Kate flashed a glance at the bloodied room. “I pay and send out invoices. I make sure the employees’ salaries are paid. I sort out the social media. I pay Dad’s debts. Or try to. I pay out winnings. I handle the company’s ledgers. Umm…” she exhaled a panicked breath. “Um, I… I file the company’s tax returns! Just g-general bookkeeping duties.”

“Where are the company’s ledgers kept?”

“On my laptop. On the desktop.”

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