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“Now, now, little girl. I’m a resourceful man. And as much as I’m all for men trying their luck with certain things, I don’t take kindly to liars, and rats.”
Mr. Montagu.
“W-w-where is he?” I curse myself for showing my fear, but I can’t help it because the man I’m looking at right now doesn’t seem like someone who would allow me to leave here unscathed.
“Well, he’s being buried this weekend.” The stranger grins. “His son has returned to New York, and you’re the bait.” He pushes up from the chair and rounds his desk.
“Are we taking her down to the docks?” the man behind me questions, sending my mind spiraling with what they would do with me down there. It’s the one place I never ventured. My momma always told me to steer clear of certain areas, and I always obeyed. Not even JD took me down to the river.
“Yes,” the older man says as he smirks at me. “When the younger Montagu comes for her, we’ll ensure she’s nothing like this pristine doll we have before us,” he tells the man, but his snake eyes are on me. “I’ll make sure you watch while I slice James Dylan Montagu just like I did his father. It’s only fair that father and son die in a similar fashion.”
“Why are you doing this to me?” I can’t stay quiet any longer. My confidence overrides my fear. Even though I know it won’t last long, I try to voice my case. “I haven’t done anything to you.”
“I’m doing this because the Montagu line needs to end. He will attempt to come after me. I will make sure he pays for his father’s sins. He’ll follow in Daddy’s footsteps more than he already has. And you, my darling, are the bait I’m using to reel him in.”
“But I don’t understand. JD is not a bad person.” I admonish myself for sounding so weak. Yes, I’m young, but I’m also a fighter. My momma taught me that women can do anything they put their minds to, and I know I can be stronger. I can also make JD happy.
“You’re far too young to be talking like that,” the man says. “I think perhaps I should pay your precious mother a visit. Do you think she’d like to be wined and dined?” The dare is clear in his eyes.
“Leave my mother alone!” My words are fired out, challenging the man to a debate, a sparring match of wills between two people who are on such different levels, there is no question who would win.
“Remember my name, Autumn Starling. I’m Christopher Marlin, and I’ll be the one who makes sure if you survive this or not,” he sneers with pure, vile satisfaction.
“You don’t have to do this. If you just let this be, we can all move on from whatever happened. JD won’t come after you if I’m not here. If I go home, he’ll forget about you.”
The old man guffaws. He’s amused at me for even attempting to stand up for myself. He shakes his head slowly, his hand reaching into his pocket, and he pulls out a packet of cigarettes. Once he’s put one between his lips, he flicks a lighter, and the flame dances across the tip.
“You may think like that, but you’re a naïve little girl,” he says. “You know, little lady” — his eyes never stray from mine — “you’re quite the feisty one. I can see why James is so intrigued by you. According to his father, you were practically ready to be married before he made sure his son moved on. But the moment James stepped foot back into New York, he was at your mother’s apartment.” His words ensure that ice takes hold of me, and it doesn’t let go. “I suppose if you grew up in the right family, with the correct tutelage, perhaps you could’ve been part of his family.”
“Just because I don’t have wealth like some people do doesn’t make me unworthy. It also doesn’t change the fact that I love JD, and I will do anything for him. But of course, that doesn’t matter to you. Does it? You’re one of those criminals that only wants revenge.”
His dark eyebrow lifts. “Vengeance is certainly part of my plan. It’s one part of being who I am that I find satisfaction in,” he says. Shaking a finger in my face, he leans in when he’s near me. “But for you, you’re merely a piece of a much larger puzzle. Once James knows you’re hurt, he’ll seek his vengeance, and he’ll learn that I’m not a man you can cross.”
“What do you mean?”
“You see,” he starts. Turning his back to me, he crosses his hands behind his back and regards the window. “When Montagu decided to cross me, he told me something of note. His son will do anything to keep you safe, even lay down his own life. And he’ll learn that I am to be feared and obeyed.”
