Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
I was happy.
For once in my life, I was happy.
Now, as the driver speeds toward the Crowley mansion, all that joy turns to an inescapable horror.
McLaren lied to me. He fucking played me. I try calling him, but the bastard doesn’t pick up. I try him over and over until my calls go straight to voicemail. The old piece of shit probably blocked me. I want to crack my phone in half, but instead, I pull up Robin’s number, Dara watching me anxiously the whole time.
Robin picks up right away, like she was waiting for this. Like she’s eager for it. “Hello, Finn, how are you?”
“You lied to me,” I say, tone a snarl.
“I’m sorry?” She sounds chipper, the same voice she used with her father back in his office: placating, playful, way too confident. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“The vote was today. Guess what happened?”
“Oh, dear, did something go wrong?” I can see the grin on her face. “Huh, that’s so strange.”
“What the fuck did you do, Robin?”
“Well, don’t get cross with me, but apparently my father didn’t like your apology. And honestly, Finn, can you blame him? You got up there and instead of bowing and begging like we all wanted, you kept your chin up and acted as though you have a spine. It was a lovely moment for you, but Daddy didn’t like that at all.”
“He tanked the vote because I didn’t say sorry the way he wanted me to?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“We had a fucking deal.” I’m gripping the phone so hard I feel its metal frame creak. “We had a goddamn contract.”
“There was nothing in it about the vote, silly, only about his forgiveness. And Daddy truly does forgive you.” She sounds like she’s talking to a two-year-old.
I sit back, staring straight ahead. I see how she maneuvered me into this now—how she took control as if she was on my side, as if she wanted to help me from the start.
It was a game. Maybe not the engagement, but the moment I broke things off, she started scheming to get one over on me, possibly alongside her family.
“You fucked me.” I’m almost impressed, if I’m honest. Except I also want to murder her.
“Well, you helped with that one, darling. I don’t like being passed over, much less embarrassed. Think about that the next time you look at your pretty little wife. Assuming she survives much longer. Anyways, it was lovely chatting, but I have a tennis lesson. Bye, Finn.”
She hangs up. I stare at the phone, mind working furiously.
Robin dragged me into this trap, and now I’m stuck dealing with the fallout.
I should’ve been smarter. I shouldn’t have trusted Robin from the start—I knew she was clever and ruthless. She made that clear the first time we met. But I wanted Dara so badly that I was willing to accept any help that came my way, even if that help was from a venomous and very aggressive snake.
“Finn?” Dara puts a hand on my arm. “Are you okay?”
I turn to her, take two deep breaths, and force myself to calm down. “We’ll be okay. I just have to figure this out.”
“What happened?”
I give her the quick version. “The whole thing was about revenge from the start.”
Dara looks pale. “What are you going to do?”
“Speak with my father. I think you should stay in the car for this.” The driver winds up toward the house and parks out front.
“Are you sure?” She doesn’t look eager to come inside though.
“Stay.” I put my hand on her thigh. “No matter what, I meant what I said last night. Do you believe me?”
“I believe you, but—”
“I’ll make this right. Just stay here.”
I get out of the car and leave her behind. She’ll be safe in the car—or at least, safe-ish.
I lean into the driver’s window. “If anyone tries to come near the car, turn around and drive back into the city.”
“Understood.” The driver nods to me. He’s one of my loyal guys, and I hope that loyalty holds in case my father decides he wants to punish my wife.
The walk into my childhood home feels like I’m heading to my own execution. By now, my father would’ve heard about the failed vote, and he’s probably been calling every single person even tangentially involved in politics to chew them out. He’ll be at peak rage, ready to make someone suffer.
The house is quiet. No staff’s around, which is odd. I take the back halls toward Dad’s study, but before I can reach the doors, I’m intercepted by Carson coming the opposite direction.
He looks exhausted. “He’s going to kill you.” No hello, no preamble. Straight to the fucking point.
I grab his forearm. “I did what they asked, and they still fucked me.”
“The McLarens are dead to us too. They’ll get what they deserve.” Red rings his eyes. “I was up all night trying to whip the goddamn vote and this shit still happened. We lost it by one fucking person.”