Page 1

Chapter 1

Adead man lay at Grace’s feet.

She wished she could say this was the first time this kind of thing had ever happened—it wasn’t. Neither was it the second time nor the third.

In her four and thirty years of existence, Grace had come across a lot of death. She had mourned the loss of loved ones unjustly taken away too soon. She had seen her enemies vanquished, finally paying the price for their heinous misdeeds. She had even come across the lifeless bodies of people on the streets, people she hadn’t known before stumbling upon their corpses.

After all this, she wished she could say that death didn’t bother her anymore.

It still did.

And perhaps the moment it stopped affecting her would be the moment she, too, would be no longer alive.

Death was supposed to be a part of her past, however. Not that she expected to live forever and be surrounded by eternal creatures… Perhaps she had worded it wrong.

Murder was supposed to be a part of her past.

She had moved on. She had built a life of relative luxury. And yes, she was still surrounded by dangerous elements, but she had never expected those elements to follow her to her establishment.

Grace watched the lifeless body of the man before her, the light of the candelabra in her hand casting ugly shadows on the already gruesome scene. Gasps of terror and horrified whispers filled the corridor. The guards tried to keep everyone away from the room as Grace waited for…. what?

With this many witnesses, how was she to dispose of the body or explain the poor man’s plight?

She recognized him despite his lifeless eyes and the pool of blood that surrounded his body and marred his face.

He was one of the regulars. Lord Portsmouth.

An aristocrat.

A death that could not be ignored.

Harmony, who now cowered in the corner of the room, hugging herself as loud sobs exited her chest, was supposed to be the one to service him tonight. Instead, she had found his lifeless body.

A crowd of onlookers kept peering into the room, speculating in hushed tones, whispering their suspicions.

Had a harlot killed her client? How curious, indeed!

Clients weren’t left alone in the rooms for long. One, two minutes at the most.

The pristine condition of Harmony’s clothes indicated that she hadn’t come into contact with the murdered man’s blood. So, she couldn’t have killed him.

Not that Grace had thought she did, but others would. It was logical to suspect the person who discovered the body first. It was easy to suspect a whore.

Harmony was a dainty woman, too. She would never be able to overpower a man twice her size. Would people take that into consideration before wrapping a noose around her neck?

Grace’s eyes flicked to the wall with leather straps. Perhaps if he was tied down…

That wall was a good few feet away from the body, and there were no blood marks on the floor to suggest he had been dragged.

No. This man was killed right here, in the middle of the room, in the few minutes between the time Patience—the hostess—had led him to the room and when Harmony had arrived.

He was attacked, gutted, and left to die. Then, the murderer simply disappeared into thin air. Grace glanced at the secret passage behind her. Or rather, into thin walls.

A limited number of people knew about the existence of the secret passage and fewer still knew how to access it. And all of them worked at the brothel. All of them were gathered in the corridor, their clothes clean, their coiffures in place—they simply wouldn’t have had time to commit the murder with that kind of efficiency. More importantly, all of them were harlots—therefore, they would not be believed by officials and aristocrats.

Loud footsteps echoed down the corridor, an authoritative voice commanding the crowd to disperse.

Terrific. Constables! Just what she needed.