Page 45 of Declan

Nothing.

I rounded the corner and came to a sliding halt.

Motherfucker.

Madeleine Strotherby.

But that’s not what had my attention. Autumn had the muzzle of her Sig pressed against the old woman’s forehead.

And that cold dread was back, slithering its way down my body.

“Where’s the last shipment?” Autumn asked.

I had to hand it to the old bitch—she looked entirely unaffected by a gun to her head.

“Autumn Pierce,” the woman’s smooth cultured voice purred. “Such a waste. We had plans for you. It’s such a shame you never learned your place.”

“Where are the girls?” Autumn repeated, not rising to the bait.

“I knew I should’ve been there. But that idiot Harry said he could deliver the Pierce sisters. You by yourself, brought in top dollar—a blonde-haired, green-eyed virgin. Even after that was gone, the men still lined up. But you and Emerson together? Now that would’ve been a prize.”

Thank fuck, Thaddeus wasn’t in the room to hear Strotherby talk about his wife.

As if on cue, Thad angrily growled, “End the bitch.”

“Where the fuck are the girls?”

“On their way to the same place you went to. To the men who own them.”

“Who bought them?”

“Now, Autumn, you know I can’t tell you that. There are rules.”

Autumn’s hand began to shake and that chill running down my spine heated.

Fucking shit, I didn’t want this for her.

“Right, rules. And you’re willing to die to—”

Strotherby clucked and smiled. “You’re not going to let me live. And I do not beg. So go on now, get it over with. But before you do, I hope you know killing me changes nothing. There are plenty of people who are waiting to take my place. My death will be meaningless because my empire will live on.”

“See you in hell,” Autumn muttered.

The crack of the gunshot rang out and I closed my eyes as Madeleine Strotherby’s body jerked back and started to fall.

Fucking, fucking, shit.

Another mark on her soul. Another life taken even if that life was vile—the bitch was pure evil.

Autumn turned. Blood dotted her face, but it was her pained eyes that held me captive. Until she holstered her gun and my eyes went to her bicep.

“Mother—”

“You know,” she grunted. “I’m really fucking tired of getting stabbed.”

She reached up and yanked the knife out of her arm and dropped it on the dirty floor.

“That’s gonna need stitches,” Kyle muttered and rushed forward.