Chapter Four #2
Her mind was spinning. “You don’t need the house and the plot it sits on, just the surrounding property. Why didn’t you just ask me to sell you the land? If you had, I’d have probably sold you all of it but the five acres the house and garden is on. Why try to take Ivy House away from me?”
A muscle in his jaw flexed. “The house needs to be torn down.”
“Why do you hate it so much?” This went much deeper than mere greed.
“Every holiday our father dumped us here like an unwanted litter of pups.”
“I’m sorry you felt that way. Grandmother did her best to make us feel welcome.” Cilla had been more than happy to come here, to get away from the cold home where they’d grown up. It was eye-opening to realize Richard had the opposite recollection.
His lip curled into a sneer. “You were her favorite. You got her love and attention. I got lectured about how I was too much like our father, too obsessed with material belongings and status. How I’d come to a bad end. I’ll have the last laugh when I raze this place to the ground.”
Cilla was shocked to her core. “I had no idea she did that to you. It was wrong, but it doesn’t make what you’re doing now right.”
Their grandmother had been strict and a stickler for some things, but there’d been kindness beneath her prickly exterior.
If she’d shown Richard that side of her, been more understanding, maybe things would have turned out differently.
But there was no going back in time, no do-over.
She’d likely meant well, but Grandmother had only alienated Richard and solidified the very traits in him she criticized.
Cilla softened her tone and tried to reason with him. “You may hate it, but Ivy House means everything to me. I’ll never sell it.” Especially knowing his plan was to destroy the house.
“Give it up, Richard,” she continued. “I saw my lawyer this morning. She assures me you have no claim. The paperwork is all in order. If you push it, I’ll take you to court.” It was a drastic measure, but one she was prepared to take. While she hated to do it, she was done being a pushover.
“Damn it, Priscilla, you’re being irrational. Divorcing Christopher was foolish. He comes from a good family, has money and connections. Refusing my offer is totally unreasonable. I confess, I’m worried about your mental state.”
If the situation weren’t so dire, his fake concern would have made her laugh. Instead, it twisted the unexpected knife in her back. “Is that your plan? You can’t break Grandmother’s will so now you’ll try to prove I’m mentally incompetent?” The depths he was willing to sink to were appalling.
“You have two choices. The first is to take the offer from me, minus the twenty percent I’ll take as compensation for the trouble you’ve caused.”
“The trouble I’ve caused?” It was the other way around. He was the unreasonable one. “It all comes down to money for you, doesn’t it? And revenge.”
Ignoring her, he continued. “Your second choice is to follow through and take this to court. I promise you, in the end, you’ll lose and I’ll get the house.”
She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, chilled to the bone. “You’re not a child anymore, Richard. If I sell you the rest of the land, will you stop trying to take Ivy House?”
Malicious glee lit his eyes. Seeing her willingness to compromise as weakness, he pounced. “I’ll have it all one way or another.”
“You’re exactly like our father.” Her voice shook with a combination of anger and disappointment. “Nothing is ever enough. You’re successful and wealthy but you crave more. You’ll grow old and bitter, the same as him, and die alone.”
“You can’t stand in the way of progress, Priscilla.” It wasn’t what he said but how he said it. It was a threat, pure and simple. A bead of sweat trickled down her spine.
“You need to leave.” For the first time in her life, she was afraid of Richard. She’d never seen this side of him before.
“I’ll leave when I’m damn well good and ready.”
When he came toward her, she took a step back and pulled out her phone. “Leave or I’ll call the police.”
“Is there a problem here?” Looking big and tough, a scowl on his face, Alex strode across the lawn toward them.
…
Alex cursed his impulsiveness, but there was no taking it back. Whatever was about to occur, he’d interfered by stepping into the middle of it. When he’d heard raised voices, he’d hung back by the side of the house—far enough that they wouldn’t see him, but close enough to hear what was being said.
Not that they would have noticed him if he’d been standing right beside them. They were too caught up in their heated conversation.
It had been both educational and infuriating.
Richard Wainwright talked down to his sister, treating her as if she were inferior.
He was also very angry, and angry men were unpredictable.
As tempting as it was to imagine wringing the guy’s neck, he couldn’t actually do it.
He’d already meddled enough. His future was getting more precarious by the second.
“Who are you?” Richard stared down his nose—quite a feat, considering Alex topped him by half a foot. “You didn’t mention you had guests wandering about.” He slung the accusation at his sister.
Cilla sighed, her shoulders slumped. Lines of worry furrowed her brow. “This is Alex. He’s staying here while his motorcycle is being repaired.”
“Did you do a background check before taking this man into your home? I wonder about the soundness of your judgment.”
Alex didn’t like where the conversation was headed. From what he’d overheard, Richard was laying the groundwork to declare his sister incompetent so he could get himself named as executor of her estate. That was one way to get his hands on the property.
“I run a B&B, Richard. There are always people coming and going. It goes with the territory. Alex’s brother stayed here a while back, and the chief of police vouched for him. Is that good enough for you?”
“The word of a small-town police officer? I don’t think so. I doubt Christopher would appreciate it, either.”
“It’s none of his business. We’re divorced.”
“He might be willing to take you back.”
“So you and he can get your hands on my property? I’m done. Leave and don’t come back. If you do, I’ll take out a restraining order against you.”
Richard threw his shoulders back. “You go too far. I may have to speak to Judge Hardigan. He was a close friend of our father. He’ll be worried sick when I express my concern about your behavior.”
“Try it and I’ll drag you to court for slander. Wouldn’t that look good to your high-flying clients and social-climbing friends? Richard Wainwright taken to court by his sister. Don’t start something you’ll regret.”
Alex’s concern grew the more he listened, but he shouldn’t have interfered. As a reaper, involvement in human affairs was forbidden. The reminder did little to quell his anger. Her brother should be protecting her, not trying to destroy her confidence and take her home.
Maybe he could offer Cilla some suggestions on how best to protect herself.
He barely kept from rolling his eyes. He was doing it again. As many times as he warned himself to remain an impartial observer, he couldn’t extinguish his growing concern for her. It was going to land them both in trouble.
He’d worry about it as soon as he got rid of the unwanted visitor. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
Richard shot him a glare and gave his sister a curt nod. “I’ll be in contact.”
“Don’t bother. I meant what I said. I’m through talking about this. Ivy House is not for sale.” Having said her piece, she walked several feet away and began to yank the dead roses from the bush with more force than necessary. Likely pretending it was her brother’s neck.
Richard glared at her before turning his attention to Alex. “What’s your last name? Priscilla might be gullible, but I’m not. I’ll be checking into your background. If there’s anything to find, I will.”
Amused, he tucked his hands into his pockets and began to walk away, forcing Richard to follow him in order to continue their conversation. “That how you operate? Threats?”
He’d met many a man like this one over the course of his life. They were drunk on their own power and narcissistic enough to believe their own lies, which made them very dangerous and often unpredictable.
“I protect my interests.”
“But not your sister’s.” There was enough of a warning in his low tone to have Richard taking a step away before he realized what he was doing and stopped, squaring his shoulders.
“Your last name? Either you tell me or I’ll be forced to call the authorities.”
Alex smiled. It was the kind of smile a shark might give a smaller fish before devouring it whole. It was petty of him, but he enjoyed the leap of fear in his adversary’s eyes. “Alexiares Blackwell. Blackwell Enterprises out of New York City.” He enjoyed it even more when Richard’s mouth dropped.
The business—owned by him and his brothers—was well-known in the world of real estate development. Since Richard was keen to get into the business, Alex had little doubt he’d have heard of it.
“I don’t believe you. What would you be doing here?
” He lowered his voice, even though they were far enough away that Cilla couldn’t possibly hear them.
“You’re after the property, aren’t you?” He glanced toward Cilla as they rounded the side of the house and gave Alex a conspiratorial wink.
“Work with me and I’ll see that you get first crack at the entire parcel. ”
The man was lower than a worm. “What about the company you’ve already approached?” The answer was apparent before he answered. This man would take whatever offer was best and damn his ethics.
“I went to them with a proposal, but no contracts have been signed. I’m open to a counterproposal from your company.” They stopped by a gray Mercedes sedan. Richard reached into his pocket and drew out a business card.
Alex plucked it from his fingers. There was no reason he’d need any of the data, but it was second nature to collect information.
It also gave him the opportunity to briefly touch Richard.
There was no tingle, no sign he was the target.
That was disappointing. Reaping his soul wouldn’t have bothered Alex one bit.
In fact, he’d have found immense satisfaction in the job.
Richard was safe from him, for now, but the day would eventually come, as it did for all humans.
“But you don’t own the property, do you?”
“I won’t let you cut me out of the deal. Try it and you won’t like what happens.” Richard got in his car, tires squealing as he sped away.
Alex waited until the car disappeared from sight before making his way to the back of the house.
Cilla was no longer in the garden where he’d left her.
Maybe she’d ducked inside. She was likely embarrassed he’d witnessed the scene with her brother.
It would be worse if she realized he’d heard it all.
He’d leave her alone for the time being and eat his meal.
He had one foot on the porch steps when a sudden scream raised all the hair on his arms. It was coming from a section of the yard that looked as though it hadn’t seen a lawnmower in quite some time.
Urged on by instinct, he sprinted to that corner of the yard, ducked under several tree branches, and continued on what might, at one time, have been a path. Branches tugged at his clothing. He didn’t need a mower but a machete. Nature had been allowed to grow wild for far too long.
The short, shadowy tunnel ended and opened into an overgrown garden. A gazebo, desperately in need of a coat of paint, was barely visible beneath the mass of ivy and flowers that threatened to smother it.
Bolting forward, he took the gazebo steps in a single leap. “Cilla!” He grabbed a handful of ivy, ripping it out of his way.
White-faced, she stood staring at the floor, a small pair of garden pruners raised over her shoulder like a spear. A copperhead snake, with its distinct dark hourglass pattern, slithered toward her.
Leaping forward, he grabbed the hissing reptile behind its head, carried it outside, and tossed it a distance into the woods. A huge crow swooped down and perched on the roof of the gazebo.
“Malaki,” he whispered. His presence was a deliberate reminder that Alex was being watched, his every action noted and weighed against the outcome of the assignment.
Malaki made several croaking sounds of disapproval. Shit, he’d acted without thought. It had been instinct to grab the snake to keep Cilla from being harmed. It could be viewed as interference. Maybe she’d been meant to be bitten.
“He put me here,” Alex reminded his father’s messenger, keeping his voice low. “It was impulse. I’m unclear if she’s my assignment or if it’s someone who’ll pass through here.”
Caw!
“When I figure it out, I’ll know how to handle it. Be sure to add that to your report to the old man.” Putting the bird out of his mind, he went back into the gazebo.
Cilla was where he’d left her, arms crossed, face pale.
If the snake had bitten her, all of her vibrancy, her beauty, might have vanished in the blink of an eye.
While a bite from a copperhead was rarely fatal, there was no telling how a person might react.
At the very least it would have been painful.
Not my business.
He reaped souls. Only the Fates decided a person’s end. Cilla’s only role in his life was to act out whatever part she was destined to play in the assignment his father had set for him. The rest was out of his hands.