Total pages in book: 331
Estimated words: 315585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1578(@200wpm)___ 1262(@250wpm)___ 1052(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 315585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1578(@200wpm)___ 1262(@250wpm)___ 1052(@300wpm)
She frowns. “No. Why?”
Haidyn looks at Easton. “Because Sin swears that Bill has a daughter by the name of Everett Sinclair.”
Charlotte shakes her head. “That name doesn’t sound familiar.”
“Their last names aren’t the same,” Haidyn points out the obvious.
“If he’s been hiding her, it makes sense to not give her his last name,” Saint offers. “Charlotte had a fake name. Plus, Isabella and LeAnne legally changed their names to hide the fact that they are twins.”
“I’m telling you, she’s his daughter. She called him Dad. My mother introduced her to me and Elli as my stepsister. She belongs to him,” Sin argues.
She does have a daddy, the realtor had said. Was Bill the man who’d bought her house? If so, why would he do that for her?
Charlotte nibbles on her bottom lip. “I guess she could be.” She looks up at Haidyn. “I mean, my mother has a twin sister, and I thought she was her best friend all my life.” Shrugging, she looks at Sin. “What did she look like?”
“Bleached blond with green eyes. Maybe five ten and around our age.” He shrugs.
“I have a picture of her,” I say, removing my cell from my pocket and pulling up one I took of her one night outside the cathedral.
Showing it to Charlotte, she nods. “Yeah, I’ve seen her at the cathedral.”
Everyone turns to me.
“Blowtorch girl.” Haidyn nods, then looks at his wife. “When were you at the cathedral?”
“It was a long time ago. Before my father died. She was sitting in the very back of the pews with us. I thought it was weird because she wasn’t wearing a cloak or mask like the rest of us.”
“Who else was there?” Saint demands.
“It was full of Lords,” she answers. “It was an offering.”
“What the fuck was she doing at an offering?” Sin snaps, looking at me as if I know her life story.
But it makes sense, considering she was sewing up the man that Haidyn and I were there to collect after a confessional. So I don’t necessarily see that as a red flag. Confessional and an offering are pretty much the same thing. Either way, you’ve betrayed a Lord.
“LeAnne was there,” Charlotte adds, and I run a hand down my face. “She was running the offering.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Sin looks at me, and before he opens his mouth, I raise my hand. “I’ll fucking handle it. Do not lay one hand on her.”
Without another word, Sin turns and storms out of the office, slamming the door shut behind him.
“Was this the woman who stapled the letter to your back after you spent the night in a cemetery?” Saint asks.
My silence is all the answer he needs.
“Fuck, Kash,” he growls. “I’m guessing it’s the same cemetery where the body was found. You had to have recognized it. Why didn’t you say anything?”
I walk around my desk and sit back down, ignoring him. Haidyn takes Charlotte’s hand, exiting the room.
I try and think of my next move. If she’s Bill’s daughter, how long will it take for word to get out? Why hide her all these years? Why bring her out now? Maybe LeAnne is her mom? I mean, she was gone for years. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had a child with Bill.
Lords share their wives with anyone who wants a taste. It makes sense that they have illegitimate children with one another.
“Kash—”
“I’m not in the mood, Saint.” I cut him off and stand from my desk. Exiting the office, I head up to my room. I’ve got to make my move. Too many people want her head on a platter, and if that’s going to happen, I’ll be the one to do it after I’m done with her.
I’ve waited too long for my chance with her to give up now.
THIRTEEN
EVERETT
Fifteen years old
Isit on my bed, tightly strapped inside the straitjacket. I’ve lost count of how long I’ve been like this.
It just makes it easier for them. They don’t like it when I fight back. There’s nothing but silence. No TV, no music. They want me to go insane. Lose my mind. A woman doesn’t need an opinion or to have thoughts of her own. She just needs a functioning body.
The door opens, and my father enters, followed by a woman I’ve never seen before. You would think she’s here to help me. But I know that’s wishful thinking.
She looks at me and frowns. “How long has she been like this?”
“Keep your questions to yourself. You’re here because you owe me,” my father growls.
She turns to face him. And their size difference is almost comical. My father is six six, and she doesn’t even come to his shoulders. It’s interesting, though, because she’s dressed in a business suit and heels.
She must be important. Like the other bitch who comes and goes. The one who thinks something is wrong with me.