Defiant Queen (Mount Trilogy #2)

A small, sad smile plays over her lips as she stares down into the whiskey. “Funny, that’s one thing we actually agree on. Brett Hyde is a piece of shit.” She looks up from her glass, her green eyes stormy. “He threatened my parents. He said if I don’t follow his instructions, he’ll have them and my sisters killed.”

I recall the picture I had taken of her parents while I was leaving reminders of everything she had to lose in order to make her accept my bargain. “And you think he can pull it off?”

“Maybe not, but I gave myself up to you to protect them. What makes you think I won’t take him seriously?”

Uncrossing my arms, I reach for the tumbler to finally take a drink of the whiskey. “What instructions did he give you?”

“I’m supposed to go to the bank tomorrow and make a large cash withdrawal. The biggest I can without my father’s approval.”

My fingers grip the crystal almost tightly enough to shatter it. That greedy motherfucker.

“How did he know you had cash in the account?”

She shrugs. “I didn’t even know I had it until he showed me the balance on his phone with the online banking app. I didn’t think about shutting down his access because I thought he was dead.” Her last words are tossed at me like an accusation as her eyes narrow. “Don’t think I’m not pissed about you trying to force me deeper into your debt. That’s bullshit. I didn’t ask for that money. I didn’t ask for any of this.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger. “I loaned you operating capital so you can make the next payroll. That check from the Voodoo Kings for the event deposit won’t come until days after you need it. Or did you want your employees’ paychecks to bounce?”

The color drains from her face. “How do you know that?”

“When it comes to you and your business, I know everything.”

“Except, apparently, that my dead husband wouldn’t stay dead.” She turns her back on me and begins to pace, which I’ve come to realize is one of her habits. “Why would I think to disable his bank access when he died? He was dead, so it wasn’t like I was worried he was going to try to steal from the distillery.” She spins as she hits the end of her path and spears me with her furious green gaze. “But he wasn’t dead, and I wish I would’ve known that so I could have prevented him from getting an alert when our balance tipped a certain number. Because I didn’t know he could do that either.”

Once a con, always a con. I’m actually surprised Brett was smart enough to work this one. He signed his death warrant when he showed his face again, and this time, it’s going to be even more painful. Not just because of what he put Keira through tonight, but since the day she married him.

“Why didn’t he ask you to wire it to an offshore account? That would’ve been smarter. He’s a dumb motherfucker, but not that stupid. A cash withdrawal leaves way too many variables that could go wrong.”

She turns to pace again, dumping the remains of the whiskey down her throat as she strides along the wood floor. “I don’t have wire transfer authority and neither does Brett. Only my father does, and there’s no way in hell I could have explained to him that I needed to wire money into an offshore account. Do you realize the questions that would’ve led to? The least of which being how the hell I even got my hands on that much money?” When she comes back toward me, the strong front she’s been holding together cracks, and so does her voice. “But he said he’d kill them all if I don’t do it, so I don’t have a choice. I’m going to the bank tomorrow morning, and then, God willing, it’ll be over.”

I lower my glass to the table and step into her path, forcing her to stop and look up at me when I wrap a hand around each of her shoulders.

“Give him that money, and he’ll keep coming back for more. That’s how this works.”

“Then what the hell do I do? I can’t let my family suffer for my bad decision.”

I tighten my grip on her to make sure I have her complete attention. When she meets my gaze, I repeat the promise I made earlier. “No one will touch them.”

“Swear it to me.”

“I already did.”

“I need to hear it again.”

I give her a squeeze. “I don’t repeat myself.”

She bites her lip, and I’d give a hell of a lot to know what she’s thinking.

“Fine. But if you don’t, all bets are off.”

“You don’t make that decision. But I will make you one more promise—Brett Hyde might be back from the dead, but it won’t be long before you’re a widow again.”





Keira





Mount leads me out of the study after prying the whiskey glass from my fingers. I still can’t believe he managed to steal a barrel of the Spirit of New Orleans from one of Seven Sinners’ rackhouses. It’s not like a serious security upgrade is part of the budget right now either. I’m too busy mulling over this problem to notice that the hallways we travel aren’t the same ones I’ve been down before.

When Mount pushes open one massive black double door, I take a step inside and stop.

“This isn’t my room. I mean, my cell.”

Where the decor I’d been surrounded by before was utterly feminine, this is the polar opposite, even though it’s the same color scheme. Mount’s masculine stamp is on every detail, from the soaring glossy black ceilings that are well over three times my height, to the matching thick black molding. An enormous black leather sectional sofa takes up the middle of the sitting room, across from a massive flat-screen TV that looks like it recesses into the wall to be hidden. The coffee table is also black lacquer with gold accents. A black-and-gold liquor cabinet holds more booze than the one in his library.

That may have been his escape, but this is Mount’s home. This is where he lives, where no one sees him. His scent pervades the room, getting stronger as I take a few more steps toward the next set of double doors. I peek inside to see a bedroom.

The bed is the largest one I’ve ever seen. It could sleep part of the Voodoo Kings and still have room for a few cheerleaders. The spread is black velvet, edged in gold, with black sheets and pillows.

“Do you like any colors other than black, white, and gold?”

Mount studies me as I explore his sanctuary. “No.”

I step back from the doorway, the ache between my legs telling me I don’t need to get too close to that bed, or there’s no telling what might happen.

Mount is turning me into an addict, stripping me of control of my own body and compelling me to hand it over willingly at the same time. It’s a paradox, one I don’t want to contemplate any more tonight. I step away from the bedroom.

All that matters right now is figuring out how I’m going to pull off the bank withdrawal Brett demanded, get him the money, and escape unscathed.