CHAPTER 3
The Princess
“How in the fuck could it just be…gone?”
I’m wearing out the pristine carpet in Simon’s living room, and the creepy look that comes naturally to his face is even creepier with the amount of disdain gracing it while I have this meltdown.
He scoured Witherle…and found neither his knife…
nor pretty Natalie. Not a trace of anything except the tire tracks I left on the path.
“Animals. Or man.”
I parked my hands on my hips and stopped, sighing to myself while I glanced over at him as he sat still in a little wooden rocking chair. “An animal wouldn’t hide the knife. I’m absolutely fucked. Who would clean this for me? More importantly…why?”
“Miss Black?” Simon asked, cocking his head to the side.
His wiry dark hair stood out against the light from the lamp behind him.
Actually…I’m not sure Malek was too far off when he joked about that lampshade being somebody’s skin.
I kinda want to vomit for more than just the anxiety of this idiotic situation.
“No. Seven doesn’t do that anymore. You know that. And that was, for sure, a man in the woods.”
“Shamrock protect?”
“It’s not Mal, either. I went straight there after I left your house.
He’s good at hiding shit from me, but he wouldn’t even know Sev if he hadn’t needed a cleaner.
Did I honestly just stumble into the life of somebody like us?
What if he’s not doing this to protect me at all? What if he did it for blackmail?”
Simon sighed and raised up from his chair, waddling over to his antique desk and pulling my file. “We wait. Show again. If do…we kill.” The large envelope teetered in his small bony hand. “Bigger problem.”
“You found something?” He nodded and I joined him at the desk. He spread out a few papers, and the small brass key we still haven’t figured out. He tapped the key with his fingertip.
“Key has number. Safety deposit.”
“So, this is…what bank?”
“Don’t know.” He flipped through papers until he pulled one of the statements from Jonas’s estate settlement, and big shock…there were several different accounts…in several different banks. I guess it was a start, at least. “We find box. Get answers.”
“And Zach McKinley?”
Simon shook his head. “Just child. Much money…no sense.”
“Natalie said he spent a lot of time chasing pussy with Zane O’Dell.
Did you find anything there?” Another silent ‘hell no’.
But it does seem obvious to me. If we’re gonna find dirty dealings…
they won’t be hidden in anything legal. We’re looking in the wrong place for it.
Declan could put this to bed in a single day.
I’ve seen him do it. But he can’t know about this.
“Two of these banks are within an hour’s drive. I can check those today.”
“Need married. Access.”
Fuck…fuck, he’s right.
Which means trying to rid myself of this god-forsaken family and their name is gonna have to wait. I won’t be able to access shit with any of these banks without this in my corner. It might be the only good thing coming out of this train wreck. I think I’m gonna yack.
“But once we have what we need…you can get me out of this?” I know I sound desperate…but I’d rather have fucking died than to be tied to this in any way. When he didn’t answer, I turned my face to see him staring at me. “What?”
“Power,” he started, raising his finger to my forehead. “Start here.” We stared for a really awkward handful of seconds before he pointed to my chest. “Not here.”
“So, you’re saying I should stay married to this prick?”
Simon shrugged. “Prick dead. Throne…empty.”
“Both houses are done, Simon.” I shook my head and bit down on my lip, choosing to look away. “We buried both names. There is no throne. Not for us, or the O’Dells.”
“Wrong.” My head snapped back towards him and the malice in his strange eyes made the psycho underneath shine through. “Build empire. Crush all.”
“I’m not a queen, Simon. You saw how well I handle something as simple as gutting a bitch and leaving her in the woods. Daddy was right. So was Jonas. I’m only good for one thing. It’s all I’ve had to use. What else is there?”
His smile was enough to make you piss yourself. Creepy as fuck, and not at all sane. “Revenge.”
The minute that word left his mouth, it felt like injecting a poison straight into the vein.
It spread like a virus and started to consume me…
burning like eternal flame. All of a sudden, the idea of watching them all burn in eternal flame…
became everything. My Daddy’s face filtered in and out of my mind’s eye.
He was so calm when I left that room. Cancer or not…
this started before Malek fell for Sev. This started because of the love he had for us that he couldn’t show anyone…
not even his own fucking children. He hid it so well, especially when it came to Malek.
I’m pretty certain that before he gave our father a death with some dignity, that moment might have been the first time Mal even believed he ever loved him at all.
But I remember…
I remember seeing that for myself the day that we found out about Shavonn.
The day I ran into his office while my brother’s soul was ripped out of his fucking body downstairs.
Daddy made a decision that day. I think it was the death that started it all…
and he thought his would be the one that ended it.
He told Malek that he wanted us to go and have the life he couldn’t give us.
Maybe this is the reason why I can’t make that final step and accept happiness the way my brother has.
Maybe that’s why I’m so terrified of closing the deal with Declan, even though I fucking know he deserves it just as much as anyone else.
There is no salvation for us.
Malek’s happiness couldn’t start without all the pieces falling on the chessboard.
I never got the chance to have the satisfaction of playing the hero…
and maybe this is how the villain is made.
We’re not built to be heroes. And the queen is still standing.
Misplaced, maybe…scarred, surely. But fucking standing.
They killed my Daddy. They took life from the House of Byrne. They picked the wound to watch us bleed…
They didn’t fucking cut deep enough.
This isn’t over. It’s just beginning. That fire is raging now.
My claws dug into my palm as I gripped the steering wheel, pulling down the long driveway where a landscaping team was manicuring every inch of what’s about to be my new front lawn. It’s coming together…and it’s mine.
I’m building a new house.
And it won’t be stained by the name I never fucking wanted.
It’ll be feared by the name they thought was dead.
My mouth curled and I parked in the circular driveway in front of the entrance to my new castle. The contractor stepped out of the front door just as I’d slammed mine shut.
“Miss Byrne.”
That’s right…the queen just arrived home.
Sylvan National was a bust.
I didn’t even bother trying to get whatever money was left in Jonas’s account.
The safety deposit box isn’t there. I don’t need, nor do I want his fucking blood money.
I just want the blood. I have a gut feeling my answers are in this box…
wherever it is. I stepped into the large glass door at Everton Trust, and my throat felt tight as I took in the massive marble foyer.
I’m not dressed for this. Might as well own it now.
At least I wore heels today. They clacked and echoed off the walls as I held the manila envelope in front of me and raised my chin, stepping up to the teller.
I didn’t wait for her to ask. It’s gonna taste just as bitter as it did about half an hour ago when I had to force the venom from my tongue.
“My name is Bridget O’Dell. I’m here to empty and close my husband’s safety deposit box.” I opened the envelope and turned it over, cringing when the brass key pinged on the counter. Then I slid the paperwork out.
“We’ll need his sig—”
“No, you won’t. He’s dead. I’m trying to tie his loose ends and put this behind me. Can you help me, or not?”
I got a few really stern looks from around the counter and decided to keep my composure, lest I look like an impostor instead of a grieving widow.
She thinks she’s better than me in that cheap pantsuit and standard mani.
She’d be fucking prettier with her throat split open.
Keep looking at me like that, bitch…I’ll do it for fun.
She slid the stack of papers towards her and went to typing away on her stupid computer.
I think I’m pulling this off simply because I’m livid at the fact that I have to utter his last name.
It’s doing wonders for the scowl on my face.
“Are we closing all accounts, or just the box?”
My heart leapt. I tried my best not to let it show.
Every muscle in my body gave way to relief.
I can’t believe I got this on the second try.
“Close them all. Write a check and make it out to Leviticus House in Castine. I’d like it to be donated anonymously.
” Lydia…looked up from her computer screen.
“All of it?”
I nodded once.
A few protocol signings and thirty minutes later, I sat in a chair in an office that was way too clean and tried not to let my foot bob in impatience as it dangled over my knee. The stiff little prick that tried in all ways to figure me out, came back with his tail tucked and the key in his hand.
“If you’re ready, Mrs. O’Dell, you can follow me.”
I did. Silently…aside from my uneasy footsteps down the hall behind him as he led me into the room. A tall table stood in the middle and I stopped at it, watching him go down the row until he found what I came here for.
“Box 77.”
You’re shitting me.