"I just don't understand," Charis Robinson says to her son over family dinner. "I know they said it was a heart attack, but I also heard that a private investigator has been at the mansion, asking questions.""Who told you that?" Charles asks, his fork freezing mid air. "I haven't heard anything about a private investigator. And I'd think I'd be the first to know."Charis shrugs. "I have friends in high places, too, you know.
"So, that's where we had to leave it," I finish, taking a sip of my tea. I'm sitting in Marcus's office, updating him on the results of the investigation. He's not behind his desk, but sitting in the armchair next to me in his little seating area in front of his fireplace.It's so cozy here. Of course, we don't have a fire lit – it's July in New England, after all. But the vibes are still so warm and soft. I could sit here every day of my life with Marcus, drinking tea and talking through our problems together.
Charles leans back in the seat of his car, silently stewing as his driver maneuvers around the streets to take him to the Hardy residence. He and Daisy are having dinner with Paul, Darlene, and Becki tonight, to discuss what the hell they're going to do next.Brodie was smart to get out while he did, Charles thinks grumpily as he watches the city lights zip past out the window. Becki's twin brother left for a study abroad program in France at the beginning of the summer, and Charles wonders if he'll ever even return.
Charles is getting more desperate than ever. Dillon refuses to pick up the hit Charles wants put out on his mother, all because he hasn't paid his debts. Yet! He hasn't paid them yet, and, goddamn it, none of them are getting paid unless Charles can get this situation under control.Infuriating how Dillon won't see that. Sometimes you have to take a little gamble, put the risk in beforehand to get the big reward at the end. Charles knows this. That's how Charles has gotten along his entire life, in fact. It's how he's gotten to the top.
I wouldn't allow Marcus to drive me home, despite his urging. Instead, we end up in his private apartment, where he's now pouring me a very large brandy and darting concerned glances over his shoulder at me.I'm trying to keep it together, but it's almost impossible. I loved Charis like a mother for most of my childhood; she was the person I was most distraught to lose when I went to prison and was cut off from the family.Her death is not only a devastating blow to me on a personal leve
At least we’re not at the same hospital I took the Alpha to, I think bleakly to myself as we pull up in front of the ER doors. The doctors would start to get suspicious of me. My god, how many more attempted murders am I going to have to handle?As a doctor, I’m of course used to seeing blood, pain, injury, even death. But it’s not usually people I care about, and it’s not usually because the person I used to trust most in the world is methodically trying to bump off half the people around him.
Marcus doesn't know it (well, yet), but I'll always be grateful to him for helping me find a way to attend Charis's funeral. I wouldn't have been able to find an excuse to go if we weren't dating, because I'd have no reason to push my way into the funeral of a woman I'm not supposed to know.But, of course, Marcus and the rest of the Alpha family will be there, because they're family to Charles. And since I'm dating Marcus, more or less officially, it doesn't look weird for me to accompany him for support.
"Will I ever run out of reasons for revenge?" I rail in the car on the way to the luncheon. "Your father, you, me, Charis's murder, and now this? Where does it end, Marcus?"I remember just in time not to mention Brady. I need to rein it in a little bit; I'm losing the thread, here. Marcus isn't supposed to know about the gang, or that I have a revenge list as long as my arm.In truth, it's been easy to lose sight of the fact that this all started because I set out to t
"Marcus!" I shout, tripping over the last step at the bottom of the staircase. "Ouch! Damn it, we need to get that fixed. Marcus, where are you?""I'm in here, carina," Marcus calls back. He comes out of the kitchen with a raised eyebrow. "Just making your coffee. I think I've almost got this machine figured out, I swear."I burst out laughing. "It's been five years, honey. I think if you were going to get along with that machine, it would've happened by now."
"I'm so glad you chose a December wedding, darling girl," Jeanette says to me, looking a bit misty-eyed. She steps back from the mirror we're both looking in after adjusting my veil and clasps her hands in front of her."Me, too," I breathe, lifting a hand to touch my face. Jeanette slaps it away, playfully."What are you doing?" she exclaims. "You're going to ruin all of Maya's hard work. You look stunning, my dearest. Don't smudge your foundation, I beg of you. Are you nervous? A mimos
The biggest problem with waitressing is that Becki really freaking hates it, okay?It's miserable. People are so rude to you, all the time, and your arms ache after each shift from carrying around everybody's hot plates and their stupid trays of cocktails and wine and soda and god knows what else.And nobody is ever happy, either. They ordered a Cabernet Sauvignon, but all your restaurant sells is Merlot. Well. You'd think the entire sky was falling down, the way some people car
The dinner is sumptuous, one of the most elegant dinners I've ever had, even by Alpha-family standards. It's an old-school seven course dinner, with hors d'oeuvres circulating on silver trays along with trays of champagne while the servers set up for dinner.Then comes the soup, which is a crab bisque that I could eat all night long, even if there were no other courses. I make a mental note to tell Marcus that I definitely want it served at our wedding.Next are the appetizers - a sort o
A few weeks later, I'm at the villa, poring over paint samples. Jeanette has been very generous in helping me with ideas for a massive makeover for the villa, and I'm excited to make the place really my own.Well, mine and Marcus's, of course. He comes home in the evenings from his business duties at the hotel to have a glass of wine with me and talk over options. We've discussed decorators, but for now, I think I'd like to handle most of the decisions myself."You surely don't expect to
The next morning, Marcus and I are having coffee in the villa kitchen when my phone rings again. I tense up and check the caller ID to make sure it's not my father again, and I heave a sigh of relief when I see that it's Jack Darlington."Hey, Jack," I say when I answer the phone. Marcus raises his eyebrows at me in question, and I shrug. "What's up?""What's up is that I have some fantastic news for you," Jack says at the other end of the line. There's a rush of traffic and voices in th
A week later, I'm starting to feel like I've really settled into my new life full of possibility and hope. Things are so much easier now, and not just because I don't have to hide who I am anymore.As soon as Charles was taken away by police and chucked into jail where he belongs, awaiting his trial in the human court system, it was like a black cloud of despair and tension finally lifted from over my head.It's time for me to move on, into my new life, with my new family and friends.
"Do I look all right?" I ask Marcus in our bedroom at the villa. I'm staring at myself in the mirror, smoothing my navy blue dress over my hips. "I've never been to a Werewolf Council before; I'm not exactly sure what I'm supposed to wear.""You look fantastic," Marcus says, coming up behind me to tug my zipper all the way to the top of my dress. "Very professional. A real Alpha's Heir wife.""Fiancee," I say with a smile. I tuck a curl - now back to its original brown - behind my ear. M
"It's terribly convenient for you, Marcus, that your paramour owns an entire villa for you to move into at the drop of a hat," Liam grumbles the next day as he helps us wheel our suitcases to the elevators. "Some of us are going to be in this bloody hotel for the next decade, if the fire department has anything to say about it.""It's not the fire department's fault that Nicole's ex-boyfriend is a psychotic arsonist," Marcus responds, shooting me a wicked little grin. I whack his arm playfully.