Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
ALEXANDER
Forty-eight hours after I sent the request, an email lands with the background check on Edgerton. I make my excuses and leave the meeting I’m hosting, putting my vice chair in charge. As important as my attendance at the meeting is, this can’t wait.
Closing my study door, I settle behind my desk and open the email. As expected, the information is detailed, going as far back as which hospital Edgerton’s mother gave birth to him, what schools he attended, who his best friend was, and what his mother packed him for lunch.
While skipping through the first few pages, something catches my eye, and I flick back to the beginning. Wait a minute. Edgerton isn’t his birth name. He legally changed it a year ago from Barrett.
Barrett. Barrett. Why is that name familiar?
I press my fingertips to my temples, racking my brains for the answer. Scanning the first couple of pages again, I find what I’m looking for. Will had an older sibling. Dean Barrett. Born two years before Will .
Well, I’ll be damned . Dean fucking Barrett. A filthy piece of scum who repeatedly raped his daughter for eight years before his wife walked in on him unexpectedly. She threatened to call the police, and in response, he beat her half to death. She survived the attack and told the authorities everything. The case went to court, but as happens all too often, the evidence presented was discredited by a clever barrister who tore the wife and the daughter apart, and the jury returned a not guilty verdict.
The case came across my desk, and I put my team on it. They spent six months uncovering the evidence we needed to move on the mark. Like all those before and after him, I only move when I’m a hundred percent certain of their guilt. There’s no beyond a reasonable doubt. It has to be iron-clad that they’re guilty.
Barrett begged for his life, like they all do.
Didn’t make a difference. A year ago, I put that fucker in the ground. Hopefully, his daughter will be able to find a way through the horror and heal, knowing he’ll never come for her again.
Will changing his name and securing a position on my family estate isn’t a coincidence. Even if I believed in them, which I don’t, he’s here to avenge what I did to his brother. My skin itches at how close he’s been to Imogen. He’s touched her. Laughed with her. For all I know, he could have changed his plans, and now she’s his target instead of me.
Not on my fucking watch.
Sliding the photo frame that obscures the safe in my office to the right, I enter the combination, open it, and remove my handgun. I don’t often carry weapons, leaving my day-to-day security to my bodyguards, but this is personal.
I have Doug bring a car to the front of the house. Once he does, I dismiss him and climb into the driver’s seat, making a beeline for the staff entrance. Two guards step out of the gatehouse as I approach, surprise registering on their faces when they catch sight of me in the driver’s seat. I pull over to the side and climb out.
“Take a break. Both of you.”
Leaving any entrance to the house unguarded isn’t done, but as they predictably begin to tell me what I already know, I cut them off.
“Now!”
They scuttle off, heads together, probably speculating the reason for their dismissal. I enter the guard house and put in a call to Osborne.
“Find Will Edgerton and send him home.”
“Sir?” The inflection in his voice invites further explanation—one I don’t care to give.
“Do it.” I hang up and wait. It isn’t long before a car winds its way toward me, rolling to a stop when the exit barrier remains closed. The moment I appear from the gatehouse, Edgerton’s shock is far more pronounced than the guards, but it lasts only a second or two. His expression hardens, and he exits his vehicle.
“Mr. De Vil, can I help you, sir?”
Even though I’ve barely spoken to the guy, I pick up on the rebellious note in his voice, the slight derision as he calls me sir . Maybe it was there on the previous occasions our paths crossed, although I can’t recall. He’s guessing he’s been rumbled, but he’s playing the part until he knows for sure.
“Cut the shit, Edgerton. Or should I say Barrett.”
In an instant, the walls come tumbling down, and his hatred glows brightly. “I wondered how long it would be before you found out.” Planting his legs wide, he faces me head on. “Good. I’ve had enough of this bullshit.”
He takes a swing, but I’m faster and far better trained. I duck, lunge, and get him in a headlock. “Was this your plan?” I snort. “Pitiful.”
His elbow shoots back. Easily avoided for someone like me who’s proficient in martial arts. I spin him around and clamp my hand around his throat, slamming him against the side of his car.
“You listen to me, you piece of shit. If you come near me, near this estate, near my fucking wife ever again, I will put you in the ground right beside to your brother. You get me?”
He stares at me, belligerent. Silent. I squeeze harder. Removing my gun with my free hand, I jam it to his temple. “Or, if you prefer, I can reunite you with him right fucking now.” I cock the weapon.
“Okay, okay.” He brings his hands up in a show of defeat.
I keep the gun pressed to his head. “Did you really think you could hurt me? You’re nothing. You’re no one. You’re fucking powerless.” I shove him. He loses his balance and falls to the ground. I point my weapon at his face. “If I ever see you again, I won’t hesitate to act. Get up. Get in your car, and go. Before I change my fucking mind.”
Edgerton scrambles to his feet, dusts grit and dirt from his hands, and climbs into his car. I keep my gun trained on him as I return to the gatehouse and raise the barrier, only putting the safety back on when his taillights disappear.
An uncomfortable feeling pulls my stomach tight. Edgerton was a nothing, a nobody, yet he managed to fool our processes and gain access—albeit restricted access—to the estate, to my family. To Imogen. Ever since Annabel and I were kidnapped, security has been a top priority for us, yet a lone man with a grudge has been working here for months, waiting for his chance to strike.
A flush of anger raises the heckles on the back of my neck. For all I know, there could be others. The men I kill have families and friends, like anyone else. Edgerton might not be the only mole working on the estate.
I send a text to Richard with two demands: revoke Edgerton’s access to the estate and ensure Osborne is aware I have fired him, then send me a full report on every single employee who has started working here within the last five years. People who are looking for revenge usually have a lot of patience. If my subsidiary activities have brought trouble to my family’s door, I need to know.
There is no hiding place, no lengths I won’t go to protect those I love.
If there are more Edgerton’s hiding in plain sight, I will find them, and next time, they might not get off as lightly.