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From what I’ve heard, he fled England for the same reason I want to escape this place.
And how the hell did he become a Harknett?
“You have to understand,” Alistair continues, “this is an unstable stalker who has reframed their entire existence around this inheritance. In their mind, they’re a victim reclaiming what was stolen from them.”
“My grandfather never stole a thing!”
“In this person’s delusion, he did,” Logan counters. “And that’s all that matters right now.”
“Enough of this.” My uncle looks at Logan. “Mr. Reed, how sure are you that Cillian needs protection?”
“One hundred percent sure,” he replies.
“Then there’s no need to continue this meeting. Make the contract, and I will sign.”
“The terms will apply from the moment of signing until the threat is over,” Alistair explains. “Once signed, we can talk about the auction and how the island will be secured.”
My uncle looks at me, and I can tell I’m not going to like what’s coming next. “Maybe we should cancel the auction—”
“Absolutely not!” The suggestion alone makes my blood boil. “This event isn’t just about art or good PR for the family; it’s about the people who benefit from the donations.”
“I understand, Cil, but your life is in danger.”
“And what about their lives? Those kids depend on this charity. I’m not cutting them off over a damn stalker,” I yell, and I swear Knox looks confused… about what or why? Who cares?
“There is no need to cancel, Mr. Harrington-Hale,” Alistair insists. “We can handle an event with a hundred and fifty guests with no problem.”
“Are you sure?” my uncle asks.
“Without a doubt. We’ll just need the island’s floor plans, the catering vendor list, and your current security protocols.”
My uncle nods in agreement. “Then we have a deal. The auction stays, but until the stalker is caught—” He turns to glare at me, “—you won’t step outside your room without a guard attached to your hip.”
He then gestures to the Harknetts as he makes his exit.
On his way out, his assistant, Toby, steps forward and hands each of the men a folder.
“Here is everything you’ll need to know for the contract,” Toby says, gesturing toward the door. “Please, if you follow me, dinner has been prepared for you.”
Knox stares at me, looking just as irritated by this arrangement as I am. And God knows why.
I mean, he’s the one getting paid; it’s his fucking job.
I push back from the table, hold his glare for a few seconds, and walk out.
— ¤ —
I slam the door open, walk into the room, and I immediately regret it… I’m so angry that I have completely forgotten how much I’ve been avoiding this place.
This was my grandfather’s office, though for the past two months, it’s felt more like his tomb.
Fuck…
It still smells like him.
I pinch my thigh as hard as I can, using the pain to distract myself from how hollow and lonely I feel inside.
Back when my parents died, at least I had my grandfather. He took a scared, angry teenager and built a shelter around him. But now, that shelter is also fucking gone.
