Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
She let out another meow.
Silly kitten. Midway down the steps, she squirmed in my arms. I set her down so she could walk beside me, and she ran ahead. I expected her to continue down the stairs to the lower level to the massive pantry where Finn kept the overflow cans of cat food. Instead, she darted into the library.
“Shadow,” I called after her, “I have things to do. I’m not waiting all day. Come on, let’s get you some breakfast.”
When she didn’t immediately return to my side, I changed course and followed her into the library. Only a few feet into the room, I froze. My half-brother Brax stood in the middle of the library, Shadow in his arms. A chill went down my spine. Brax and I had been sworn enemies since I was born, three days after him. You’d think a three-day-old baby would be too young to have enemies, but if you thought that, you hadn’t met Brax. Technically, all my siblings were halves, but Brax was the only one I thought of that way.
Braxton Reginald Sawyer was supposed to be the youngest Sawyer, the crown prince of the Sawyer clan. For a few short years, he had been. The dirty little secret of my existence hadn’t been revealed until my mother’s death when we were four. Prentice had taken pride in producing so many children when his ancestors had managed only one or two offspring per generation. My father might not have liked me, but there had never been a question that I had a place at Heartstone Manor as Prentice’s daughter.
Suddenly, Brax had to share the spotlight with my adorable self. We looked so much alike that we might have been twins. Golden hair and skin, my father’s electric blue eyes, excellent bone structure. And Brax had the one thing I didn’t. Height. He towered over me, my sweet little ball of fluff in his arms, a familiar sneer twisting his lips.
“Put my cat down,” I said.
“She’s fine,” he replied.
Shadow didn’t look fine. She squirmed in his arms, and his hands tightened.
“Put my cat down,” I repeated, tamping down the fear in my voice. If he knew I was scared, he’d never let her go. We had enough years of sibling torment between us. I didn’t trust Brax as far as I could throw him, and given that he was a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier than me, I couldn’t throw him far.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, striding forward.
I grabbed Shadow and tried to yank her out of his arms, hoping he wouldn’t fight back. At the touch of my hand, Shadow squirmed, sinking her teeth into Brax’s wrist. He let go in surprise, and I gathered her to my chest. She nestled against my neck, the rumble of her purr low and unhappy.
“Why are you here?” I demanded.
Brax lived here. We all did. According to my father’s will, we had to live in Heartstone Manor for five years after his death, or we’d lose not only our inheritance—amount unknown—but also access to any Sawyer-owned property. Since all of us worked for family-owned enterprises, it was either toe the line or lose our jobs.
Brax handled the family’s commercial real estate business. Though he managed properties all over the country, his office was based in the nearby city of Asheville. Until Prentice’s will, he’d lived in a condo there and rarely came home to Heartstone Manor. These days, to comply with the will, he slept at the Manor, but that was it. He rarely attended meals. Until recently, I couldn’t remember the last time I saw him in person. He’d come to Tenn and Scarlett’s wedding, and it was the first time he’d met my newborn niece, Griffen and Hope’s daughter. I’d seen him again at Savannah and Finn’s Valentine’s Day wedding. That was it.
Months of Brax slipping in and out of the house, here only long enough to satisfy the terms of the will, until the last few weeks. Suddenly, it felt like he was everywhere. Was it because Ford was home? I thought back. Ford had finally been released from prison in the middle of May. I hadn’t started bumping into Brax everywhere until the middle of June. I didn’t know if that meant anything.
I should have known Brax wouldn’t give me a useful answer.
“It’s my house, too,” he said in a snarl, rubbing at the bite mark on his hand.
“It’s Griffen’s house.” I couldn’t resist poking at him. Probably not smart, but I didn’t give a crap.
“Yeah, well,” he said, “maybe it’s Griffen’s house, but I have a right to live here, just like you. More of a right since I’m not the bastard daughter of the town slut.”
There was nothing I wanted to say to that. It had taken me far too long to learn that I wasn’t my mother. I knew better than to try to defend myself to Brax. He liked hating me too much to listen. I watched him stride away, heading for the very stairs I’d planned to take to the lower level. Change of plans. I’d use the stairs behind the dining room. They were closer to the kitchens and the pantry anyway.