Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
“As you wish.” The Queen clasps her flute of champagne, drinks it all down, then stands. “Someone, get the bloody door!”
Graham, leaving his hyperventilating companion, scrambles to complete her request.
Diverting her eyes, Mary slowly nears me. She lifts a passive hand, stuttering, “I don’t know what you went through, Luxury, but—”
“Shut it.” I run a hand through my kinky hair. “I’m not in the mood to agree that the power struggle between us is no longer a factor. I forgive you. Don’t try me again.” I round on my heels and cruise past Graham’s gaping gaze, pushing open the door with which he’s been struggling.
32
Victor
I awoke this morning with one mission in mind: redemption.
The morning I planted the Queen of the Night, my lady and I had a heart-to-heart. She’d said I couldn’t return things to the way they were. To this day, it guts my core that I cannot fully rectify what occurred in Saudi Arabia. I thought I’d learned that lesson―endured that excruciating dissatisfaction of disappointing the first woman I ever loved. But as sure as I’m alive, I strove to redeem myself when Madeline’s misconduct warranted a bullet straight through the fucking skull.
Now, I stare at the door where Luxury slipped out. The guards assist my struggling brother with sweeping both doors open. Their shocked masks fall on the Queen. All the blood, momentarily extracted from their souls, floods back through them.
I stare at a woman I once called a fucking mate. Madeline’s not dead. The blow knocked her unconscious. While Princess Mary and my brother prance about, Her Majesty has stalled at my side.
“I did you a great disservice, Victor. Leaving you with them.” My grandmother shakes her soft, curly hair.
“Actually, I’ve come to appreciate my father’s tough love.”
“You have?” She blinks, speechless.
“I know. Your son, the vagabond.” I offer a wry smile. “But I’d an epiphany after a long night in the Arabian desert. I will always yield to portions of the cruelty Silas instilled in me, but not all.”
“Hmmm.” The Queen pats my shoulder. “Speaking of your father, Silas did not grace us with his presence this evening.”
“Speaking of that arsehole, my father touched Luxury well before negotiating with the sheikh. Therefore, my father’s absence this evening is his blessing—lest you grant me the authority to murder him?”
“I will reinstate your duchy, Victor,” the shrew cuts in with a tone that could slice a fissure in titanium. For a moment, I wonder if she won’t broach the morbid topic—what could be my father’s comeuppance—but the monarch briefly purses her lips. She gently retorts, “If you would like to assume your father’s titles, the choice is yours alone.”
Ah, his titles. She’s given her blessing to murder Silas. Nevertheless, if the choice is mine, she’s not in accord with my decision, just conceding to it.
“Am I also to assume you don’t require assistance with properly disposing of the young Madeline girl?”
“Young, no. She had a heart attack. Fell into a dishwasher with upturned knives. Dear Grandmummy, you’ll be surprised at the statistics of upturned knives in—”
“I am leaving, Victor,” she snips.
I shrug a shoulder.
Graham stops coaxing his lady out of her chair to snap at me. “How can you literally just stare at Maddy’s dead body?”
“For one,” I note, eyes narrowing at the slight rise of her flat chest, “Madeline’s not dead.”
The knife severed her tongue, knocked out two incisors, and cleaved her lips. I clutch the handle, yanking it from Madeline’s mouth, driving it into her heart.
Give the bloody handle a swift twist. “Goodbye, old mate.”
I straighten up and am astonished that my brother’s still present. “Luxury was ra—”
“Graham,” I clasp a palm over his mouth, “you’ll never repeat anything of the sort. Will you?”
He shakes his head, and I let go. No. I just . . . this is traumatizing, Victor.”
I pop his mouth softly with my hand. “I see, traumatizing . . . for you. Forget what you saw or heard today.” I push my brother away and turn my attention to my old butler, who’s assisting Sarah to her feet. “Burt, you are no longer under my commission, but you wouldn’t mind disposing of Ms. Elliott?”
“Most certainly. I’ll also reach out to Monica about Graham’s . . . lady.”
Ahhh, Graham’s new woman is another subject requiring attention. Monica will create a contract for the lady, I’m sure. One that indicates the woman will take a certain amount of money and keep her mouth shut.
Or else.
I’m sure by the time the ink is dried on said contract, the head of my security will have gleaned all of the young lady’s past indiscretions. If we have any issues with her in the future, the woman will look fit for an insane asylum.
“Good call.” I nod my head.
Burt inclines himself as if to place a kiss on Sarah’s cheek and then thinks better of it. A few whispered words are shared between them while I turn away. I’ll never get used to that.