Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 147415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 737(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 491(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 737(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 491(@300wpm)
“Oh, yes,” she flings back. “I’m sure he’s thrilled at what his daughter’s been up to.”
Destiny doesn’t flinch.
“He called me on the ship. Dad wanted to know what was going on, but I told him we were fine, in case you were wondering. I’m not the kind of girl who runs off asking my parents to bail me out. I like to take matters into my own hands.”
Shit, she’s on fire.
I don’t need to add anything.
I barely knew about the call home she had on the boat.
That’s not going to be a comfortable conversation when we get down to it, after all of this is over.
Cole Lancaster threatened to tear my throat out with his bare teeth twice, and I don’t blame him. I’d like to think the fact that I brought Destiny home in one piece won me some reprieve.
Mr. Lancaster is famous for his temper, and right now, I’m second place in the firing line.
I’ll worry about the fireworks with him later.
Still facing Adriana, Destiny doesn’t back down. Her blue eyes are sharper than swords. There’s no green in them, no softness with her today.
She’s thinking about Molly.
A part of me enjoys seeing her righteous anger unleashed. She’s a little cherry bomb, deceptively small and bright yet so deadly.
Is it wrong to say it turns me on?
“You know what the worst part is?” Dess asks. “If you hadn’t cut corners using a desperate kid from the docks and you’d found someone who was just a teensy weensy bit more careful at covering his tracks, we might have never known. You might’ve been able to claim it was all a freak accident,” Destiny says. “Oh, but then there’s Meghan.”
Adriana’s brows rise, waiting.
“Your lovely daughter sent me a message just before we boarded the yacht, telling me not to. Weird how she knew our plans. Even weirder that she told me not to go with Shepherd right before we got into a really ugly storm...”
Adriana scowls.
She backs up a step like Dess just slapped her across the face.
“What do you want?” she snaps. “If it’s a retraction, fine. I’m convinced. I’ll have Meghan work night and day to scrub away every trace of your little scandal. I’ll... I’ll even pay damages. A reasonable sum we can agree on, I’m sure.”
Poor, devious little witch.
It should be more enjoyable, watching her squirm as it sinks in just how fucked she is.
I’ve met people like Adriana Cerva before. They were as common as crows in Uncle Aidan’s world. Cold-blooded, ruthless, dangerous when cornered, always willing to draw blood to shut you up.
Only, unlike my uncle’s soldiers, I’m positive she didn’t think far enough through the consequences of her actions.
That’s natural when you’ve never had to face any karma before. Until now, she’s gotten away with all the shit she’s pulled.
She still thinks she can bargain her way out of this.
Best of all, she still thinks it’s about fucking money.
I touch Destiny’s leg under the table, just to reassure her.
Let’s bring this home.
Together.
Her foot nudges mine, and I keep my face expressionless as I stare at Adriana.
Her throat works, but she can’t quite clear it.
Her voice comes out gravelly and broken when she says “Jesus, what do you people want? Tell me!”
“Confess,” I bite off like a gunshot.
Again, she shakes her head like it’s falling off, unable to even process what I’m asking.
“Confess what? I didn’t do anything!” she snarls.
“Meghan sent me a message,” Destiny tells her. “The kid you hired to cut the fuel line confessed everything yesterday. We know he came aboard to load food and beverages. We already have the written statement, so you can quit pretending.”
Adriana breathes raggedly through her nose. “That... that doesn’t prove anything.”
Why do they always do this? Deny?
She’s cracking up like a thawing lake.
I can see the fear snapping in her eyes, the panicked way she looks around the room like she’s searching for an escape.
Destiny senses it, too, as she grabs her phone and sets it neatly on the table, tapping at the screen to open the recording app.
“A verbal confession. That’s all we’re looking for, Adriana,” she tells her. “Let it go easy and we’ll get right out of your hair.”
Adriana’s face twists like she’s possessed.
I stiffen in my chair, ready to throw Destiny out of harm’s way the second Miss Cerva looks like she’s about to go full stupid.
The woman takes a deep breath and steps forward, her eyes glinting as she looks over her shoulder at a rack of knives.
Just then, the door flies open.
What fucking timing.
Meghan Cerva stands there with her red hair gnarled, dressed in a threadbare pajama top and shorts that expose her midriff, looking younger and more bird-thin than ever.
Her eyes, the same color as her mom’s, are even wilder.
They’re haloed by red, deeply etched tear tracks.
Dess pushes her chair back as Meghan glares at us, right before her gaze falls on her mother.