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There’s so much more to the story than she can fathom.

But it’s not entirely my story to tell.

Kahn’s gaze locks on mine the moment I slide into my chair. “He’s close, and I have a feeling he’ll make an appearance at the gala. I can go hunt him down,” Kahn says, his stare on mine, waiting for the response he knows is coming. This is what he was trained to do. It’s something he loves. There’s no doubt in my mind, if I were to nod, he would be out there in an instant, his predatorial instincts kicking in, and his team right behind him.

My memory leaps back to Scarlett questioning me in her bedroom about the shot she heard the night he chased her through the forest. When I walked out into the garden that night, gun in hand, I didn’t expect Darius to be hanging around, but then I noticed him hidden amongst the trees, waiting. I took a chance. I pulled the fucking trigger but missed.

He isn’t back at the Bardot mansion. We now know that. What still doesn’t sit right with me is how Grace hired him in the first place. She must know he’s a Shaw. There is no denying he is my father’s son, and she had to realize who he was when he got the job on her property.

Which begs the question—what the fuck is Grace Bardot hiding?

Kahn’s watching me, waiting for a response to his comment. If my brother were to die today, I’m not sure I’ll feel the pain. Actually, I don’t feel anything, not anymore. Except desire for the girl upstairs.

My life has been a series of unemotional ties—one-night stands, contractual obligations—all offering nothing more than satisfaction for a moment. I never allowed myself to grow close to someone, to open what’s left of my heart, and to have someone burrow themselves into my soul.

Scarlett is merely a means to an end.

She’s part of the plan for revenge I will finally claim over her family. There wasn’t another way to do this, to make them pay. I push my chair away from the desk and stand. Buttoning my suit jacket, I round my desk after picking up the folder.

“I want to question my brother. A niggling in my gut tells me there’s more to this story than I know. He’s working with the mafia, but he’s also in Grace Bardot’s pocket.” I glance at each man in the room, all focused on me as I speak. “He’s hiding something, or she is. One way or another, I will find out what it is. “I want you to search every fucking corner of this town. Find him, but bring him back alive.” The order is clear, and Kahn offers a nod.

The sound of chairs scraping along the wooden floorboards fills the room as each man rises and takes his leave. I don’t think it will take long for them to do a sweep of Crimson Falls, and it won’t take them long to find him, wherever he’s hiding.

Once I’m alone, I head to the patio doors that overlook the garden. The spot where I breached the trees with Scarlett in my arms is right in front of me, and I wonder if she’ll ever come to terms with being my wife. Wearing my ring, she may have given me an inch into her thoughts, but there’s so much more to break through.

In a few weeks, she’ll take my name, and there’s nothing she can do about it. I may have given her an out after the week is up, and I’ll allow her to think she has a choice, but in actual effect, she’s in this to the end.

If she refuses, her father will go to jail, and something tells me it’s not what she’d want. Her life has been a series of events planned by her parents who wanted to rule her future. I’m not them. I may have failed to mention she’s also here to give me an heir, but if she truly wants her own company, I’ll give that to her. Call it repayment because this is a business transaction.

Nothing she’s done in her life has been of her own will, and now I’ll take the last remaining choice away from her by making her a Shaw.

I should feel bad.

But I don’t.

I turn and stalk out into the hallway. The sound of the front door opening alerts me to visitors. Gray steps aside for me to see the tall brunette who’s entering my home. The wedding dress designer, Opal, or something like that. Behind her are two younger girls pushing a brass railing with black clothing bags lined up for Scarlett to choose from.

When I selected the options from the website, I had her in mind. As I flicked through the choices, I couldn’t help but picture her wearing each one, and that had my dick hard. But what had me stroking myself was the thought of ripping the material from her body on our wedding night and claiming her.

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