Twisted Palace (The Royals #3)

“Reed never touched Dinah,” I croak.

“I didn’t know that!” Each breath that leaves his mouth is sharp and laced with panic. “I took the service elevator up to the penthouse. I was going to confront my cheating bitch of a wife. The wife who fucking tried to kill me.”

His fury is polluting the air, intensifying the fear pounding through my blood. I try to creep to the side, but he moves forward again. I’m trapped between his angry, shaking body and the hard stone of the fireplace.

“I walked in and she was here—looking at this damned picture of us!”

He snatches a framed photograph off the mantle and whips it into the wall over my head. Shards of glass rain down on us, a few pieces catching in my hair.

My heart pounds so fast I’m scared it will give out on me. I have to get out of here. I need to. Steve is confessing to murder. He’s unraveling right in front of me.

I can’t be here when he loses it completely.

“And I got angry, like any normal red-blooded man. Like your precious Reed. I grabbed her by the hair and slammed her forehead against the mantle. I’d never hit a woman before in my life, but goddamn, Ella, that woman needed hitting. She needed to pay for what she’d done to me.”

“But it wasn’t Dinah,” I whisper.

Shame swamps his face, cutting through some of the anger. “I didn’t know that. I thought it was. They look the same from behind, damn it. They…” He seems to be struggling for air. “I saw her face as she fell forward, but it was too late. I couldn’t catch her. She hit her head on the mantle.” He pants in dismay. “Severed her damned spinal cord!”

“I…” I gulp hard. “O-okay. Then it was an accident and you need to tell the police exactly what hap—”

“We’re not involving the police!” he booms, then raises one hand as if he’s going to hit me.

I brace myself, but the blow never comes. Instead, Steve’s big palm falls to his side.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he orders. “I’m not going to hurt you! You’re my daughter.”

And Dinah is his wife, but he was still going to hurt her. My pulse careens again. I can’t be here. I can’t.

“You have to tell the truth,” I plead with my father. “If you don’t, Reed will go to jail.”

“You think I don’t know that? I’ve been racking my brain for weeks trying to figure out how to get him out of this. I might not want him screwing my kid, but I don’t want to see that boy go to prison.”

Then why haven’t you saved him? I want to scream. But I already know the answer to that. No matter what he tries to say now, Steve was absolutely going to let Reed take the fall for Brooke’s death. Because Steve O’Halloran only cares about himself. That’s all he’s ever cared about.

“You and me,” he suddenly says, his eyes taking on an animated light. “We’ll figure this out together. Please, Ella, let’s just sit down and talk it through and see how we can save Reed. Maybe we can pin it on Dinah—”

“Like hell you will!”

Steve spins around at the sound of Dinah’s voice. Me, I’ve never been happier to see Dinah in my entire life. Steve’s distraction is just the opportunity I need to dart away from the fireplace. I race toward the blonde as if my life depends on it. Because maybe it does.

“You killed Brooke?” Dinah spits out, her horrified gaze glued to her husband.

Her hand shakes. I see a glint of black, and that’s when I realize what she’s holding.

A small, black revolver.

“Put the gun down,” Steve tells her, sounding annoyed.

“You killed Brooke,” she repeats, and this time it’s not a question.

I plaster myself to Dinah’s side, but she surprises me by addressing me in a gentle voice. “Stand behind me, Ella.”

“Put the gun down!” Steve orders again.

He lunges forward, but Dinah swings the gun up. “Don’t take another step.”

He stops in his tracks. “Put the gun down,” he says for the third time. His voice is soft now, measured.

“Ella, call nine-one-one,” Dinah tells me without taking her eyes off Steve.

I’m too scared to move. I’m terrified that the gun might go off by accident, and I’ll get caught in the crossfire.

“For God’s sake, Dinah! You two are being ridiculous! Brooke’s death was an accident! And even if it wasn’t, who the hell cares! She was poison! She was a piece of garbage!”

He lunges toward us again.

And Dinah pulls the trigger.

It all happens so fast I can’t even make sense of it. One second Steve is on his feet, the next he’s on the carpet, groaning in agony as he clutches his left arm.

My ears are ringing like an entire row of carnival games. I’ve never heard a gunshot in real life before, and it’s so deafening I’m worried it might’ve shattered my eardrums. I feel sick. Really sick, like I’m going to vomit all over my feet. And my heart is racing faster than it ever has before.