Grey, the Knight butler, stood by the doors waiting to open them on my arrival. The Knight estate was a massive symbol of the wealth my family had stolen over generations. It was three times the size of my father’s home and a century’s worth of our family’s dark history. Only with the death of The Bandit was the estate inherited by the next in line. Since my father died before his time, it never passed from my grandfather.
Grey escorted me to my grandfather’s bedside. Alon Knight was seventy-five years old and required formality as a sign of respect. The butler announced my presence before bowing and taking his leave. I stared at the man who rejected weakness even as his body grew old for all to see. He sat ramrod straight, his white hair meticulously brushed, and his aging face relaxed with the impression that control was still his.
“I’m disappointed, Grandson. You should know better than to keep me in the dark.” He stirred his tea and took a sip. “The book is missing.”
“It is.” I wasn’t surprised he knew. He had eyes and ears everywhere, and I didn’t doubt one of his sources was among my men. He should only hope I never identify him because not even grandfather could protect him.
“Do you know who is responsible?”
“I’m working on it.”
He continued to sip his tea without sparing me a glance. “I assume you mean Theo’s daughter?”
It was a struggle to remain impassive. Grandfather knowing she was the one to steal from us sealed her fate. Mian’s death was as sure as if God personally commanded it. “She’s a person of interest.”
“Meaning?”
“I have her, and she’ll be dealt with when I have answers.”
“You’ve had her for nearly two weeks now. You haven’t recovered the book, and she isn’t dead. What are you doing with her?”
“I’ve interrogated her. Her story remains the same.”
“I see. And how many times have you satisfied your cock while you were interrogating her?”
“I haven’t fucked her, Grandfather.”
“Maybe you should. With your cock’s needs out of the way, maybe you’ll focus on the fact that six generations and our future could be in the hands of the highest bidder as we speak.”
“I’m not fucking her,” I growled. He finally looked me in the eye.
“The anniversary is in two weeks.”
“I’m aware.”
“You have until then.”
“Pardon?”
“Mian will die the night of the celebration, book or no. How painful her death will depend on her.”
*
The front door crashed into the wall, but I didn’t stop. I heard the loud echo of my hard footsteps, but I didn’t stop. Lucas and Z emerged from the kitchen with shocked expressions, but I didn’t stop. Nothing but answers would stop me.
I could barely muster enough calm to get the key in the lock, but when it gave, I pushed open the door and was surprised to find her waiting. She looked ready to do battle, and I wouldn’t keep her waiting.
“No more fucking around. Where. Is. The. Book?”
“For the last time, I don’t—”
Her voice trailed off with each foot of space I closed between us. With her throat in my grip, I backed her up until her knees hit the end of the bed and gave out. I followed her down and covered her body with my own. My hips settled between her legs as if they belonged, and I could feel my heart pound in rhythm with hers. We are both so fucked.
“Do you understand what’s going to happen here? You’re dead if we don’t recover my family’s book… you may be dead even if we do.” The truth of my words strangled me.
“What’s the matter, Angel? Are you so eager to kill me or afraid you might have to?” I stared into the jade of her eyes and found myself wondering about the answer. “Be a man and kill me already so you can move the fuck on. I don’t have your book,” she sneered, “and even if I did, there’s no hurt you can unleash, no pain you can cause, no threat that will shake me.” Her head rose from the bare bed and when our lips were in danger of meeting she stopped. “So fuck off.”
The smile I bared snuck up on me, and I could tell it took her by surprise, too. Her shiver shook me all the way down to my cock. I was already moving before I could stop myself. Upon her perfect pink lips, I delivered a kiss of death.
“Then let the games begin.”
Chapter Thirty
She may be Cinderella, but he’s no Prince Charming.
MIAN
“I’ve been searching for your waistline ever since I stitched my first dress. You could use a little more hips, however…” Madame Torre roughly palmed one of my breasts. “And a little less here.”
I fought myself from prying her fingers from my body. Not when Angel watched me so closely.
“Or I can just love my body the way it is.”