Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 71148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
“Hello, Gran,” I greet, my fingers trembling as my nerves get the better of me, but Lycan’s strong, supportive squeeze of my hand gives me the strength I need. I should be angry, but I’m actually disappointed in her for what she’s done.
“Hello, Grace,” Lycan says, his hands finding my hips as he holds me gently, offering a reassuring squeeze before releasing me. “Would you like something to drink before we get into it?” He moves around me, standing in front of me, just enough to allow her to see the protective nature that’s so natural to him. At least with me.
“I’d like you to tell me what I’m doing here so I can get back to my business,” she says, her tone filled with ice and venom as she pins my husband with a glare. “I think this is rather inconvenient.”
“Inconvenient?” I spit, attempting to step around Lycan whose hand shoots out to hold me back. His hand slips into mine, his fingers tangling with mine, and I allow him to subdue me for the moment. “Did you also think it was inconvenient when you decided to fund a criminal organization?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, girl,” she says to me, her chin tipped in defiance as she regards me. The look in her eyes has my blood boiling. I want nothing to do with her. I want her to be locked away forever, but I need answers first.
“Does the name Father Lorenzo sound familiar?” I test, arching a brow, I watch as her face contorts from the cool, icy mask to emotion-filled guilt. But the moment it appears, it’s gone in the next second and she schools her features once more.
“Can you get to the point? I know a lot—”
“Don’t fucking lie to me,” I spit, causing her to wince at my outburst. I shove the folder across the table, and it stops right in front of her. We’ve made copies of the documents. The originals are now with the authorities, and once Lycan gives them the signal, they’ll arrive to take my grandmother away.
I watch as she picks up the manila folder and flicks it open. Her eyes widen for a moment before she lifts her gaze to me. “I can explain this.”
“Really?” This comes from Kahn who’s now on his feet glaring at her. He’s shaking with rage, and I don’t blame him. “Because my sister, who’s been gone since she was sixteen, might not want an explanation. The girls we found in the convent will most definitely not want to hear your lies about why you were supporting this bastard.” His voice has a violent edge to it, but he keeps his tone calm, and I’m in awe because I would’ve lost my cool.
“Scarlett,” she addresses me, and just hearing her say my name has my body shaking with anger. “There were things that I had to do to ensure you had a life, a comfortable life.”
“Don’t fucking blame me for this,” I hiss, rage fueling my words as I step past Lycan and toward my grandmother where she’s seated in the chair. I place my hands on the arms of her seat, getting in her face, I continue, “Does he know?”
Her brows furrow at my question. “Who?”
“My father.” I hold my breath. I’m not sure what I want her to say. If he does know, then would he have sent me to that place? I don’t know. But he happily signed my life over to Lycan, so I wouldn’t put it past Horatio Bardot to do something so sick and vile.
“He understood what we needed to do.”
“I want you and him to rot in hell.”
“Scarlett,” grandmother gasps in surprise at my vicious words. “That’s no way—”
“What? No way to talk to a criminal. Or to my grandmother who lied to me my whole life?” I push away, the chair sliding back an inch or two as I step into Lycan’s hold. His strong hands grip my shoulders, and once more, I’m grounded in safety. “If I never see you again, it will be too soon. Don’t try to contact me and never fucking come near me. You or my father.”
This time she’s on her feet, making her way toward me when suddenly Darius is in her face, his hand wrapping around her throat. “Did you kill my father?” The question is a low growl filled with pure hatred. I’ve seen Darius splattered with blood when he clearly murdered a man. I’ve imagined him killing someone, but I have never been more afraid of him than I am right now.
Grace Bardot is outmatched right now. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen my grandmother falter. “What?”
“Tell me the fucking truth. Did you, and that bastard you married, kill my father?” he asks again, and with every moment that passes, Lycan’s hold on my arms gets tighter. He’s afraid, worried about what she’ll say.