Chapter 46
Dixie
My grandmother didn’t blink when she said it. Her murderous claim.
“One ticket to crazy town coming right up,” I whispered to her.
Primrose’s lips flickered with amusement, but she controlled it and brushed out a non-existent wrinkle in her pale skirt.
“I may be old but I’m not without resources.
” She eyed Mila. “You were so desperate to save the company that every word was a stab wound to my chest. I couldn’t bear talking to you, but I kept a close eye on all you did.
That little viper Esther gave you access to something I abhorred.
After I found out, when it was all over, I ordered her gone. She couldn’t hurt you again.”
Mila stared, dumbfounded. “You… I contacted Esther so I could find that auction and get to Jacobs. At the funeral, he was whispering in your ear.”
Primrose huffed. “Because their empire was about to come tumbling down.”
“I thought he was influencing you.”
“Me? He could not. As Margaret Thatcher once said, the lady’s not for turning.”
She smiled. We didn’t.
Her revelations made no sense.
Our grandmother continued. “Then came that slut who followed Kane from one city to the next like a bitch in heat and tried to get between him and his sweetheart. I like Lovelyn. I approve of her. She manages him with barely a word or a look which suits him well. He needs a strong woman to keep him in line.”
I shook my head. “Wait, back to Karla again.”
“She had to be removed. I had it done.”
This was nuts.
Primrose faced me.
I shrank away. “Not Lex. You didn’t even know who I was then.”
“I have exceptional instincts. I selected him because of how he unsettled your sister. She overheard this individual talking, and Wallace could tell she was upset. Since, I’ve realised who he was talking was about.
How he intended to get you back into that filthy trade. How cruel. Despicable of him.”
“So you killed him?” My voice came out high. “Wait, what do you mean Wallace could tell?”
Mila gasped and touched my arm. “Each time, Wallace was there.” She swung to Primrose. “That’s it, isn’t it? Wallace was your eyes and ears?”
Horror slunk through me. On her own, Primrose could never be a killer, but paired with Wallace, a man only motivated by money, it was a possibility.
Primrose took a breath. “My son proved himself useful in that one thing. Every time he encountered any of you, he came back with stories of people trying to cause harm. I couldn’t stand it.”
Mila choked. “You’re saying he witnessed small acts and decided to kill?”
Primrose gave a stern frown. “I made the choices. Wallace carried them out. At least in that, he did good. He removed those individuals. I considered it a debt paid to you all when I could not protect you in other ways.”
They’d killed three people, one for each grandchild.
Holy shit.
The sense of danger blared louder in my head. Primrose was no innocent. She’d been hurt and she’d never recovered. It had warped her mind.
A landline rang brightly on Primrose’s desk, and she answered it. I leaned to Mila. Caught her eye and tipped my head to her phone. Convict wouldn’t have gone far, and if anything had happened, he’d message her.
My phone was busy recording the room.
Mila clocked me and changed her position, crossing her legs so she could secretly read her screen. Her whole posture changed, and her voice came as a whisper. “They can’t get inside.”
My heart lurched. “What?”
She raised her head, fear in her eyes. “They can see two other men. Another tied up.”
Primrose settled the phone back into its cradle. “We have a visitor. I’ve ordered them brought in.”
A visitor? My stomach dropped.
Please be Tyler. Please don’t.
She’d lied. Or someone had. I’d do anything to get him free. Nothing else mattered but him.
The door opened, Wallace entering again. Except it wasn’t a man with him.
Denise Harford stepped into the space.
In a glittering emerald green dress, as if she was on her way to a fundraiser, the businesswoman formed a smile for Primrose. It died when it came to me. “What is this?”
Primrose gazed at her, her head still like a snake about to strike. “You’ll recall my granddaughters.”
Denise turned, but Wallace remained at the door, keeping it closed and blocking the way out. For all I’d considered him soft and weak, he was a murderer.
We were all trapped in here together.
And I could not produce a single word.
Denise sneered. “Of course I remember them. I have an excellent memory. I am confused why you would allow them to infest your home, Primrose.”
Our grandmother said nothing, only waited.
Denise pointed a finger, her manicure elegant and expensive. “That one is dating a gangster. The older is a slut.”
Primrose’s lips formed a cold smile. “Is that so?”
“You know it is. She’s been that way for years.”
I stalled. At last, words came. Shaky, but there. “Run that by me again, hun?”
Denise turned her dead eyes on me. “You disgust me. I imagine it must be hard to understand, as your family came from nothing, what an insult it is to have to mix with you. Even to converse. I am a descendant of dukes. We have a lineage you could never understand. Castle Tien has long looked down—”
“No, I meant the years part. You been keeping tabs on me?”
I wasn’t interested in her rant of how important she was. How old and rusted the family money might be. She’d just given away something I didn’t think she’d intended.
Denise closed her mouth.
I advanced a step. “You knew where I was, even after I changed my identity?”
She didn’t deny it. My anger rose.
“How? It surprises me, seeing as you ain’t so smart.”
I baited her. She had an ego I remembered from her discussions with Austin where she thought herself entitled because of her name.
It worked. She reddened. “Don’t you dare speak to me like that.
I’ll tell you how I found you. Terrence wished to attend your seedy club.
They refused him entry, and I went down to challenge them.
I saw this woman parading around and had the strangest sense of familiarity.
Not in your face, but in the way you moved and your mannerisms. Similar enough to your sister and your grandmother, and the girl I remembered.
I learned then what you had become. A common gutter whore. ”
“You learned how?” I pressed. “Because you can’t have been sure from seeing me on stage. I wear a lot of makeup and not many clothes. Unless my titties spelled out my name, your story doesn’t add up.”
“Are you calling me a liar?” The woman visibly bristled. “Very well. I see no reason to conceal this now. I meant to spare your grandfather any pain in accidentally encountering you, so I had an acquaintance investigate you.”
“Gotta give me more than that. No one here will believe you.”
“Presley Marchant-Smythe made the discovery. He saw your passport,” she crowed.
It was them. The break-in. The stalking. The knife. My mouth dried, the implication coming fast. After the disturbances at my home came a far worse crime. One Tyler had been sure was unsolved. “You had him slit my throat.”
Denise closed her mouth.
Primrose bristled. “Excuse me?”
I kept going, getting faster, getting louder.
“You wanted my vote when Austin died. He was looking kinda ill, wasn’t he?
Ignoring his doctors and drinking hard. You saw it coming.
You knew what would happen when he passed.
Was it my job that made you decide I wasn’t entitled to that vote?
Or just your own sense of entitlement to something that wasn’t yours to take? ”
I didn’t question my courage. Perhaps it came from when Tyler faced off with her and didn’t flinch. Or the fact we had her husband in our claws. Maybe I’d just stopped being afraid.
I’d waited years to say it.
“What I don’t get is why have Terrence rape me?”
Earlier, I’d pulled a punch. I’d told my grandmother that I’d been hurt here but not how. With Denise right in front of me, elegant and rotten to the core, at last, the words came easily.
Denise breathed in sharply. She opened her sleek black clutch and extracted a phone, then sent a message.
I watched her, the snake, wondering what the hell she was doing.
A thump at the door answered my question.
Wallace opened it and Presley entered. She’d called him in.
With a heave, he brought with him someone else, their hands ziptied behind them.
But even through the hood covering their head, I knew Tyler.
I knew his inked arms and size. I knew his shape in every way.
And I couldn’t miss the needle in Presley’s sweaty hand, aimed straight at his neck.
Our asshole cousin grinned. “He was just about to escape. Lucky I checked on him.” He waved the needle. “This is a sedative, got from the dark web along with instructions on the right dose to kill a man. Any of you pricks make a run at me and I jab him. You feel me?”
The lingering horror returned a thousand-fold, blazing a path through me of cold clarity. My man, tied up, and under their control. I wanted to grab him and put him behind me. But that ran the risk of Presley injecting that drug.
I shot a look at Mila, just a millisecond of tearing my eyes off Tyler to be sure she saw what I did. That I wasn’t delulu and hallucinating him. Her distress matched mine.
Tyler’s shoulders tensed, as if he was testing the ties.
“Let him go,” I whispered.
“Of course.” Denise examined her nails. “If you give up your vote to me. You have no right to profit from Austin’s hard work. It should go to me and the families that deserve it.”
What did she get out of this? Did my share go to her if she voted? I bet it did. Or maybe it was all about control. Presley would do anything for money, but surely Denise wasn’t hard up. None of that mattered when Tyler was in harm’s way.
“I don’t care about the vote. I only want him.”