Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Leaning my head against the cool surface, I close my eyes and listen to her for a while longer before I lock her in and head down to my study. I promised Kahn he would be able to go to the church to seek out the priest who may have news about his sister, but I need him and his team here.
My brother has gone rogue, and I’m done playing games. Picking up my cell phone, I hit dial on Kahn’s number. Four rings and he finally answers—out of breath and gravelly.
“Are you busy fucking?” I ask my tone taking on a gruff rumble.
Kahn chuckles. “No, Mr. Shaw, I was working out. Late night in the gym,” he tells me. “What can I do for you?”
“Are you leaving for the convent soon? Or are you still in New York?” I settle back in the expensive leather chair and close my eyes. My head is pounding from today’s shitshow, and even with Scarlett upstairs, safe, I’m not at ease. If Darius is so adamant about stealing her, he could walk in here at any moment. Not that I won’t see him approach, but the thought of a fight tonight doesn’t bode well for the state I’m in.
“I’m still around. Did you need me?”
“I’ll make sure the jet is ready when you get to the airstrip. I need you in Crimson Falls before sunrise,” I inform him. “Bring the team. I have a feeling this could be a tough job.”
“What’s happening?” Usually, I wouldn’t tell the men until they were all in the room with me, but this is a special case. I’ve never asked them to do something so personal before. Killing my brother is not something I planned to do for a while yet, but when someone threatens my life, livelihood, and possessions, I fight back.
“Darius is here, and he needs to be taken care of as soon as possible.”
Silence greets me. I’m certain Kahn is in shock at my response. If I had to be honest, I am too. Holding someone’s life in your hands is a powerful feeling. Something that takes hold and doesn’t let go. Not easily anyway.
“I’ll make sure the guys are on the flight.”
“Thank you.” I hang up before tapping out a message to the pilot. Once my men get here, we can map out a plan. There's a lot to do with only a week to go before the ball and at least a month before my marriage to Scarlett. Especially getting her ready and onboard.
That’s going to be my toughest challenge yet.
11
Scarlett
When I open my eyes, I shoot up from the comfortable, form-hugging mattress to find I’m no longer bound. Instinctively, I glance at my wrists to find a hint of the bindings that kept me prisoner. I’m not sure how much time has passed. I must’ve been exhausted that I fell asleep while bound to the goddamned bed.
Lycan Shaw is a monster, but I need answers. I push off the bed, feeling the softness of the carpet underfoot, and for a moment, my toes dig into the thick wool. The curtains hang open, and I notice it’s still dark out. Surely the sun is coming up soon.
Pacing the room, I stop when I hear a sound outside in the garden a story down, and I notice Lycan stalking from the house toward the property line. The shadow I saw earlier is gone, but it doesn’t make sense that he’s out there when he didn’t want me going home. I wonder if the staff knows I’m missing, or if Gran has called the house and they’ve informed her I’m not there.
I didn’t see Estelle or Gray when I walked out last night. They must know I’m no longer in the house. The staff must’ve heard me scream. Surely, they’ll come to find me.
A shot rings in the air, causing me to jump back from the window. I suck in a shocked breath and hold it, listening for more volatile sounds, but silence greets me. I exhale and find my lungs struggle to pull in more air as my heart thumps at my ribs.
I should’ve run when I could, when he released me, but there’s something about Lycan Shaw that intrigues me. Why would he save me and then keep me prisoner?
I turn back to the bed to find something lying on the nightstand I didn’t see earlier. Lycan’s earlier words ring in my mind as I pick up the creamy, thick paper folded into a rectangle. “Everything will be answered when you get to your room.” Ripping open the envelope, I pull out the letter that’s been folded three times over. The handwriting is familiar, and I recognize it instantly. It’s my father’s scrawl, signed at the bottom of what looks like a contract.