A brush.
A knife.
A glass rose.
And an account statement. The amount in that account was eye-watering. It wasmorethan Rohan needed.Millions more.
“I have a trust fund.” Savannah preempted any questions. “Or rather, I did. I would have been back sooner, but my mother is the current trustee, and she took some convincing, and even then, lawyers were necessary. I was told the transfer could take up to three days to clear.”
She was giving himher trust?
Rohan had come into the Grandest Game with plans upon plans, ready to do whatever was necessary to acquire the money he needed. And Savannah Grayson had justhanded himvictory. She’d handed himthe Mercy…
And a shredded ballgown.
And a hairbrush.
And a knife.
And a glass rose, just waiting to be shattered.
“I hope you’re happy, Rohan.” Savannah took the kitten from his lap without so much as brushing against him. “I hope that throne of yours is everything you dreamed it would be. And I sure as hell hope you know better than to ever dream of me.”
Chapter 60
GIGI
Hawthorne House didn’t look any different than it had the last time Gigi had seen it, but it was hard not to feel like everything had changed, like the Gigi who had visited Grayson here on occasion was a different person. For one thing, that Gigi had never traveled with an entourage.
They were a motley crew, if bymotley,you meant some combination ofwounded,dangerous,barely masking desperation, andin need of a shave. Of Gigi’s three companions, Slate was unquestionably the most stable at the moment, and even Gigi could recognize that things were pretty dire when My-Only-Friend-Shot-Me-But-I’m-Not-Going-to-Get-All-Up-in-My-Feelings-About-It Boy was the grounded, rational one in a group.
Knox hadn’t spoken—to Gigi, to anyone—since they’d left the Thorp mansion. Toby’s brood factor had gone off the charts when Gigi had confirmed that Candidates could die in the Crucible. Truthfully, Gigi was having trouble finding a wellspring of eternal optimism herself. She’d managed to get ahold of Savannah and had ascertained that hersister had survived her encounter with the duchess but definitely wasn’t feeling chatty.
Unsure what else to do, Gigi had decided to allow Knox to deliver her to his employer. Hence, Hawthorne House. Per the instructions Knox had received, they came in a back way, and Alisa met them at the door.
“She’s all yours, Ortega.” Knox broke his hours-long silence. “Delivered in one piece, as per our deal. I’m out. She’s your problem now.”
In other circumstances, Gigi might have been offended by that, but Knox pretty much had a universal get-of-jail free card at this point, given the wholemy-first-love-was-also-kind-of-my-sister-and-now-she’s-gone-and-I-can’t-even-hate-her-because-maybe-she-really-did-love-mething.
“Not going to inquire about your payment?” Alisa arched a brow at Knox.
“You planning on holding out on me?” Knox’s voice sounded the way his eyes looked: hollow.
Alisa stared at him, then clicked her gaze over to Gigi. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Everything,” Knox replied, and thenheturned to Gigi. “Like I said, you’re her problem now, kid.”
“Not a kid,” Gigi replied amiably, “and I’m everyone’s problem, pretty much always, but if you think I’m letting you stalk off to wallow in the dark place alone, Knox Landry, you’re almost certainly underestimating my ability to jump on your back and cling to your shoulders like a spider monkey with attachment issues.”
Knox choked. He didn’t snort. He didn’t wheeze. Hechoked, like his body was caught between a laugh and a roar. Gigi decided to take that as a good sign. She was debating whether or not to try her luck with a bear hug when a familiar voice spoke from beyond Alisa.
“Gigi.” That was all the warning Gigi got beforeshewas pulled into a tight embrace.
“You’re okay.” Grayson bent his neck to murmur directly into the top of her head. “And you are inso much trouble.”
“Or Iwouldbe,” Gigi corrected, “were I not a legal adult who would be happy to do theI-have-agency-and-I-know-that’s-hard-for-youdancewhile we walk and talk.” Gigi wiggled out of Grayson’s grasp and deployed scooty hands in Alisa’s direction. “Lead the way, oh lawyerly one.”
“To where?” Alisa said.
