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Arabelle Davenport. Twenty-three. Daughter of Henry Willis Davenport. Ex-English aristocracy.
And soon to be his bride. But not because he wanted her. But because his family was being wrested into the marriage.
“Silas,” Parker began, a haunting look shrouding his face, his eyes brimming with a rage so ferocious it seemed to suck the color out of his skin.
“Consider it done, brother.” Silas rose from the chair, buttoned his suit jacket then closed the distance between them. He met Parker on the other side of his desk in his study. Elliot got up from his chair as well.
Silas put his hand on his brother’s shoulder and looked him dead in the eye.
“I got this. We’ll have a name soon and vengeance will be all yours.”
Parker’s jaw rippled as he battled his emotions.
No other words needed to be said. There was also no point in wasting time.
Henry Willis Davenport and his lawyer had been seated in another receiving area in Parker’s mansion, guarded by three bodyguards even though both men were elderly. They trusted no one.
Silas called one of the bodyguards and a few minutes later, Davenport and his lawyer were escorted into Parker’s study.
It was Elliot this time who put a hand on Parker to stop him from ripping the man apart until he got the information he needed.
To say it was a weird situation was an understatement. Davenport had inherited his father’s debt and his poor status which were the result of one too many sketchy deals which had gone horribly wrong for the Davenport family. Henry apparently wanted nothing more than to align himself as a man of stature again with his peers and a marriage connection of note would certainly achieve the task.
While he may have amassed a few enemies in his lifetime, he also still did some dirty work for the Russian, Mexican and Israeli mafia which made him an enemy that had to be handled with caution.
He was also asthmatic which he proved with medical documentation and cited that if any of the Knight brothers decided to torture him to get that one name out of him, he could very well die from the stress alone long before he got a chance to utter a single word.
The idea that Davenport could be calling their bluff had crossed their minds but then he had also said once his conditions were met and if he didn’t deliver the name, they would have every reason to kill him, and rightfully so.
The man was a piece of work, but he was their only lead. At the cost of a marriage.
And that one other thing.
