Chapter 32 – Lily
LILY
“I wonder how hard it is to get a bloodstain out of a Persian rug.”
The words echo in my mind as I wander the halls of the Westerford estate. Guilt buzzes under my skin for ditching Aster on our first official date, if you can even call it that, but I needed an excuse to investigate the tip from the anonymous caller without him asking too many questions.
Blood on a Persian rug…
The realization slams into me, and I freeze beside a painting likely worth more than my house. I am an absolute idiot. Karolyn Heinzel died on a Persian rug in some kind of study. Possibly Jude’s office?
My only recollection on how to get there is from the service corridors. Where would it be from this side of the house, and how can I get in there without drawing suspicion?
Mentally, I map out the estate. If I was entering the room from the opposite side, that would put me somewhere off the ballroom.
The house is filled with guests in gowns and masks, making it easy to blend in as I search the halls.
Turning a corner, I freeze, finding Jude in discussions with another man I don’t recognize.
Maybe I could get him to bring me there himself.
Heading towards them, I pose a smile on my face. Jude spots me, and a pleased expression crosses his features. “Well, hello, Lillian.”
Wow, mask. Thank you very much for the disguise.
“Jude,” I say, then give a curt nod to the other man.
“We’ll catch up later,” Jude tells him, and the man walks off. “Are you enjoying the party?” Jude asks me.
“Yes, of course. I was just”—I glance around—“looking for the restroom.”
“You can use the private one in my study.” He turns, and I trail after him. Jackpot.
“Oh, thank you. That’s very kind.”
With a key, he unlocks the door and brings us inside.
How the hell can I search the place with him at my back?
My eyes dart around the room. The familiar bookcases confirm it’s definitely the one where Karolyn Heinzel was murdered.
I glance at the floor. But there’s no longer a carpet.
Apparently the answer to my anonymous caller’s question is, “It’s easier to dispose of the rug than try to get the blood out. ”
“It’s right over there,” he says, gesturing to a door on the far side of the room.
“Thank you.” I stroll towards it, and only once I’m securely inside, light flicked on and door locked, do I breathe a sigh of relief.
It’s small, with only a sink and toilet, both embellished with gold accents instead of the traditional silver.
I grip the sink, staring at myself in the mirror. What the hell am I supposed to do?
I consider texting Aster, requesting him to cause some kind of distraction, but I’m trying to prove I don’t need him. I can do this.
Thirty seconds later, I flush the toilet, then turn on the sink and wash my hands. After drying them on the small towel, I leave the room, hoping I can at least get some information by glancing around.
“No date tonight?” Jude asks the moment I’m back in the room, sauntering my way with two glasses of something amber in hand. All I can think about is Aster spitting that liquid into my mouth, and I clench my thighs.
“Yes, he’s around here somewhere,” I say, taking the glass and grasping it tight. His eyes track my movements, but he doesn’t say anything. He gulps the drink, then places his empty glass on the opposite side, hand falling to the mahogany beside my hip.
“I must say”—his eyes trail down me, and he grins—“you look absolutely stunning.”
“Thank you,” I reply as he tugs the mask gently off my face, and my stomach tightens.
Okay, I do not like where this is going, and I’m certainly not about to screw this man for some answers.
Especially considering my date would likely make sure it’s the last thing Judious Westerford ever did.
So really, the abstinence will be doing Jude a favor.
He rubs a thumb along my jaw, and I choke out, “Can I help you?”
“You intrigue me.”
I force a smile. “What can I say? I’m a curious woman.”
He brings his bottom lip between his teeth, and his hand wanders to my shoulder. What the hell do I do? “I think we could have a lot of fun together, you and I.”
A rock is in my throat. Abort mission! Abort! Abort! Abort!
“Is that so?” I ask, mind fumbling to figure out an escape plan.
“Yes.” He takes the glass from my hand and sets it on the desk, then cages me in. Aster! I attempt powers of telepathy that I do not possess.
“You do remember you’re married, Mr. Westerford?” I say, voice lacking conviction as the edge of the desk digs into my butt.
“Don’t worry.” He grins, eyes assessing. “I’m very good at keeping secrets.”
“Unfortunately for you…” I release a shaky breath, racking my brain for any exit from this situation. “I have been told I’m a shit liar.”
His eyes narrow. “Somehow I find that very hard to believe.” The door to the servers’ quarters opens, and Jude jumps away as a man in a suit comes through.
“Sorry, sir, I—” the man stutters looking to me, then back to his boss.
“What is it, Arthur?” Jude snaps.
“Your presence is requested in the gallery. Immediately.”
Jude closes his eyes, then releases a heavy sigh. When they open, his gaze pierces mine. “I suppose we’ll have to find another time, beautiful. Just let yourself out once you’ve collected yourself.” He winks, heading towards the service corridor, and I fight a full body shudder.
Does he think I’m too hot and bothered to leave the room? I try not to laugh, and I think he takes the smile that slips through as some kind of approval.
A moment later, both the men are gone and I’m left alone. With no time to waste, I head straight for his desk, thankful we were interrupted before he tried to fuck me upon it.