26. Liv
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
LIV
T he snowstorm is insane this year; we’re used to it in Anderia, as the entire country’s in the mountains, but it’s a lot, even for us.
Callum’s best friends are all snowed in on the high peaks, in their mountain resort, so we expect to be quite quiet, yet on the twenty-fifth, the footman announces a visit.
“Caden!” I grin at Callum’s cousin, hugging him. “I thought you were still up in the Valmont manor?”
“The snow let up three days ago. I was there until this morning, though, if you ask anyone.” He shoots me his best winning smirk, one that I would likely find entirely irresistible if I wasn’t so used to it from Callum.
I tilt my head. “Why would I ask where you were?”
“Some people might,” he replies lightly. “Is your man in?”
I wave towards Callum’s gym. “He’s sweating—in the boring way. I doubt he heard the footman’s call, given how loud his music is when he works out. He should be done in ten, but I can get him…”
“Don’t. It’s you I wanted to talk to.”
That’s…odd. “Do you want a drink?” I offer. “It’s a little early, but if we can’t day drink on Christmas Day, when can we?”
He chuckles, following me to the lounge. “Yes, please.”
He sheds his coat, leaving it at the back of one of the armchairs, before retrieving a piece of paper from his back pocket. “This is for you.”
My eyes go from the rolled-up paper to his and I frown, taking it.
It’s an article, from an American paper, judging by the spelling.
…found at 7:59 this morning.
…drug overdose.
…identified by the landlord…
…no proof of foul play.
…immigrant recently moved to New York…
My eyes scan through the entire paper, and return to the picture on top. A man who would still have been handsome in his late forties, if not for all his substance abuse.
My jaw falls as my eyes return to Caden.
I’m sitting. I haven’t even made a conscious choice to sit, but I’m in the armchair now, and he’s taken over my job behind the bar, pulling glasses.
“Champagne, wouldn’t you say?” Caden offers, smile never wavering.
But they don’t reach those cold, familiar eyes.
“You did this.”
Without waiting for my reply, he retrieves a bottle of champagne from the fridge and opens it with a loud pop. “He’d already used up about forty percent of the cash, in two months. I imagine he’d be out by the end of next year, and coming for more.” Caden shrugs. “Which I can’t say I mind, but his methods have proven problematic.”
He circles the bar and hands me a flute, just as Callum walks into the lounge, sweaty and glistening. “Thought I heard obnoxious self-importance.”
“Cousin.” Caden grimaces. “You stink.”
“I know. Hug?”
“I’d rather be flogged, thanks.”
The casual banter is usual for them, but completely surreal given the bomb Caden just dropped.
He killed my father, who was apparently in New York.
Made it look like an accident.
He was in the mountains if anyone asks.
But no one will.
“Are you all right, love?” Callum asks.
I can’t formulate a word, so his frown is redirected toward his cousin, who shrugs. “I might have killed her dad. Merry Christmas?”
Callum shoots him a glare, before rushing to my side, protectively. “Hey. Are you okay?”
His hands run over my lap, while his voice drops down to a smooth whisper; he’s babying me, like he thinks I’ll break like I almost did at the start of November.
I guess I should have said something sooner. “Sorry, I… That’s a lot to take in, all of a sudden. I’m not even sure I’m not dreaming the whole thing.”
Exhaling to ground myself, I set the flute down and stand, crossing the distance between me and Caden. I wrap my arms around his shoulders. “Thank you. I was… I tried to ignore it, but I was so scared of what he’d do next. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re crazy. But thank you.”
“It was my distinct pleasure, darling.” He snorts. “You’re going to be a Noble. No one is ever going to get a second chance to hurt you.”
He achieves what therapy, time, and an entire security detail couldn’t achieve: I feel safe.
Also, clearly, I’m surrounded by murderers, but as they’re on my team, I don’t mind.
Callum is reactive. If there’s someone intending to hurt him, me, or anyone he cares about, he’ll dispose of them without losing a minute of sleep. But Caden has no issue with preventive measures. And as far as Dad was concerned, that’s what I needed.
It’s not just about me; it helps Grace, too. She’s also his child, and if he had ever learned that she was well off, he would likely have also targeted her, somehow.
For the first time that night, I sleep peacefully.
And I wake with a positively wicked idea in mind.