Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 154735 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154735 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Of all the spaces, he did remember this particular one clearly, however—not just from that specific night, but from when he’d moved in and had a little sight left—the Versailles furniture and pale blue walls something Darius had taken pride in for some unknown reason. He’d chided the brother that it was better suited for a knitting circle than anything involving real business.
Because he’d been a prick.
God, if he’d only known then that not only was that fighter right—life was better and safer with them all under one roof—but that he himself, as a properly serving King, would be regularly convening meetings of the Brotherhood in the aforementioned powder blue, knit-one-purl-two four walls and a ceiling… maybe he wouldn’t have been such a jackass.
In any event, he could picture exactly where all the furniture was orientated, where the brothers and fighters were sitting or standing or pacing—even knew the position of the two angels who, given what they’d likewise sensed at the Audience House, had seemed like a value add and worthy of trust.
Fuck, even Boo approved of the pair, and that cat—who wasn’t really a cat—was pickier than Butch choosing a new suit of clothes.
And with all of that in his mind, Wrath also knew where his doggen head of household was standing on the other side of the great carved desk. He could scent the elderly male’s nearly paralytic worry, the disappointment, the crushing concern that he had not protected the sanctity of his master’s property.
This was the thing about doggen. They had to be handled carefully.
And when kid gloves didn’t work, you had to fall back on the one constant that always would: “Fritz, it is your duty to speak to me. I therefore command you to do so right now.”
Annnnnnnd cue one hell of a monologue deluge.
“Sire, forgive me, I should not have departed the back of the Audience House as I—”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” V cut in. “You have every right to walk out of that house anytime you want—”
Wrath shot a death glare across the space, and for once, Vishous took the fucking hint.
“Go on,” Wrath prompted. “Don’t worry about them. Just tell me what happened.”
There was a clearing of the throat and some shuffling of clothing, and Wrath imagined the butler tugging the cuffs of his starched sleeves down. “Verily, I had entered the property to return the van from its very sad duty. After parking in the garage, I tidied some things on the workbench and then I proceeded to go unto the house. After letting myself in with the key, I was upon the kitchen, ensuring that all was in preparation for the shift of pastry chefs to come the following afternoon.” The old male took a deep breath. “Having ensured there were sufficient provisions, I intended to walk through the house to make certain it was properly closed up for the daylight… but then I heard my name being called out on the drive. I assumed that… well, I thought perhaps I was needed by one of you all. I proceeded unto the door, opened it—and I just felt rather frozen. Directly at that moment, all and sundry arrived and—”
“Wait, did you see anything?”
“No, my Lord, I did not.” There was a shifting of clothes, as if he were bowing. “And there was a sufficiency of light. Naught was there in the drive or anywhere about in the backyard. As soon as Vishous gave me the order, I jumped back into the house, initiated the shutter protocol, and removed myself from the vicinity, utilizing the underground passageway.”
“Good, you did the right thing,” Wrath praised.
“Verily, I did endeavor to execute the evacuation procedure as it had been explained unto me.” When there was a pause, Wrath imagined that Fritz was bowing in V’s direction. “After I rushed forth through the escape tunnel, I arrived at the remote garage three estates over, and I did drive away in the Range Rover. I would have returned here right away, but we had a shortage of heavy cream and that was important to rectify for Last Meal.”
Behind his wraparounds, Wrath closed his eyes. The butler’s life was worth so much more than whatever the hell he’d picked up at Hannaford, but he wasn’t going to point that out. For one, if you ever showed any affection toward the guy, he was liable to need a crash cart to recover. For another, the current shame spiral was plenty for one night. If he criticized the side trip, suggested it would have been better for Fritz to just come right back here?
Total molecular breakdown.
“You did well.” Wrath held up his palm. “And I don’t want you to think of it again.”
“But of course, my Lord,” the butler said weakly.
“That’s another order, Fritz. You put it all out of your mind. You did nothing wrong, and this is over. Am I clear enough?”