Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Like I said.
Human mask. Serpent underneath.
The conspiracy nuts would go wild with this family, certain they’ve found their lizard people.
She offers both hands like a little coquette, fluttering her lashes.
“Captain Faircross! I’m so sorry to keep you waiting. I trust you haven’t been languishing too long?”
Damn.
Just because my ma raised a gentleman, I stand and take off my hat—Ethan’s hat—and hold it to my chest as I take one of her hands.
I’m not playing courtier, though, and instead of kissing ass, I just give it a firm shake.
“Wasn’t here long, no,” I say. “Hope not to stick around, either.”
“So this is a business call then.” She rounds her broad wooden desk and settles behind it in her high-backed chair, tossing back her icy, white-streaked blonde bob.
“It’s always business, ma’am. No reason to be up here otherwise.” No point in holding back today. I settle back in my chair, slouching down and folding my hands over my stomach, studying her. Think I’ll take a roundabout approach first. I nod toward the planner. “You putting together a wedding?”
“Why, yes. Trying to, but the bride is being rather difficult.” She gives an exaggerated roll of her eyes, sighing deeply. “Of course, she wants to wait until her mother’s out of the hospital, the poor thing. Now, I don’t want to be uncharitable, but...”
She stops cold.
I can’t hide the anger in my face.
I can’t help bristling and struggle to hold it in, scratching the back of my neck like it’s just a late season mosquito that’s got me annoyed.
A whole damn legion of them has nothing on the bloodsucker right in front of me.
Fuck, I don’t like this woman talking about it like Angela Sanderson’s death is a foregone conclusion.
“I’m sorry, Captain. Family business. Don’t you know our Rosalind’s a stubborn girl? I suppose that’s why Aleksander was so smitten...” She smiles demurely, flicking her hand through the air. “Wait for this, wait for that. She’s driving my boy quite mad—and wanting to save herself for marriage, can you believe that? Honestly, I thought I was old-fashioned.”
What the—
It takes a second for that to click, and when it does, I go a little green.
I really don’t need to know that about Ros, even if it’s a small pleasant surprise when I figured Aleksander already had his dirty paws all over her.
I also don’t want to know why Lucia knows that.
What kind of son talks about his sex life with his mother?
“So Aleksander’s in a hurry to tie the knot, huh?” I ask coldly.
“Oh, you know how boys are when they get to a certain age.” She gives me a sly look, like she’s counting me in with that. “Eventually they get tired of catting around, and then it’s all about wanting to build a family and having a little woman to come home to. Honestly, I’m glad he’s gotten his wild oats out of his system. I was starting to worry about him, jetting around the world with all these vapid models. Such a bad influence.”
“Uh-huh.” I nod slowly. “Is this wedding drama the reason you lied to me about Mason Law?”
There’s a telltale moment.
A certain stiffness.
A cruel blackness that falls over her aristocratic face, turning it into a caricature of frozen fury. It’s so fast that if you blinked, you’d miss it.
I even wonder if I imagine it when she just blinks at me after that half-second pause, the perfect picture of cultured confusion.
“I’m sorry, who?” she asks, but there’s a little too much of a delay.
“I ain’t here for it, Lucia,” I say tiredly. “Cut the bullshit. You put on that big show—you and Montero both, trotting out the staff for us, pretending like you never heard of this man. Turns out, he’s one of your goddamned valets. Now he’s in the hospital, fighting for his life after ingesting an unknown poison. So, yeah, I think you might wanna stop playing cute with me right the fuck now, because if you think I won’t put a Selectman in cuffs for obstructing an investigation, you got me real fuckin’ wrong, lady.”
Lucia pinches her lips, folding her hands primly atop her planner.
“That’s hardly necessary—and neither is your language,” she clips, suddenly all business. “You’ll have to pardon me for trying to protect the man’s dignity. I had no idea what condition he was in.”
“You wanna explain what you mean about protecting his dignity?”
“Mason Law was fired,” Lucia informs me crisply. “Some time ago. He continued living in his servants’ quarters up until recently. We gave him a good deal of time to remove his possessions and find a new residence and employment elsewhere, considering he had nowhere else to go. However, we told the whole truth and nothing but when we said he didn’t work for us, Captain Faircross. It’s sad, really. He was a loyal, hardworking employee for many years. I chose not to humiliate him by spreading his disgrace around so callously.”