AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My heart stutters, chest tightening until it’s damn near impossible to breathe. “Butwhy?”
“I don’t know.”
Phoebe comes back with a chilled mason jar in hand and slides it across the counter. I take a big gulp, letting the cool, clean liquid relieve some of the heat from my body. It tastes vaguely of citrus and burns on the way down, a scalding reminder of everything I’m trying to forget.
“Well, you said her dad was trying to sell her off, right?”
“He wasn’t trying. Hedidsell her—to me. It was the only way he’d let her go without any trouble.” The image of a hand-shaped bruise wrapped around Caroline’s neck fills my mind, indicating that the money I transferred to him did little to protect her.
“Does she know you bought her?”
“Why would I tell her that?”
“Are yousureshe doesn’t know? That we don’t personally know anyone she’s particularly close to? A family member we employ, perhaps?”
I take another swig of my drink, considering. “Luca wouldn’t be that fucking stupid.” Gia remains silent, and I curse under my breath. “Fuck, who am I kidding? Lucaisstupid.”
Phoebe slams a beer bottle and a glass of water on the counter behind us, shoving the bottle in Gia’s direction. “If he drinks too much, give him that water. It won’t sober him up, but it might keep him from dehydrating.”
I smirk, temporarily pulled from the issue at hand. “Phoebe, Phoebe. What would I do without you?”
“You’d have to find another bartender, for starters.” She winks, flitting back to the other end of the bar where she’s met with debit cards and demands.
Gia tips the mouth of his beer up, pressing it to his lips. Bringing it back down, he dangles the neck between his thick fingers. “In any case, I think you should keep an eye on both Luca and your wife.”
“Maybe.” I point a finger at him, detaching it from the side of my jar. “Speaking of eyes and family members, how’s your investigation on Angelo going? Figure out if he’s stealing for Stonemore yet?”
“Nothing conclusive. I think he might be aware that I’m watching him. He’s staying away from the apartment more.” Gia shrugs, casting a wary glance over the crowd. “But he’s also getting more paranoid, so he’s due for a slip-up. I’m just biding my time.”
A swatch of golden-blonde hair captures my attention, though it’s likely wishful thinking since I’ve specifically instructed Caroline not to step foot in this place. I can’t stop my heart from lurching into my throat at the prospect of her defying me, of the things I would do to her, how I’d punish her disobedience.
My eyes scan the crowd of bodies, trying to find the elusive hair color that I only attribute to her, and when I see it, I lock on, pushing off the bar before I even realize what the hell I’m doing.
Shoving my half-empty mason jar into Gia’s free hand, I shoulder my way through the throng of people, toward the VIP area where a woman who looks an awful lot like my wife sits. She’s wearing damn-near nothing, watching two strippers make out on top of a guy at the end of her booth.
Blood boiling, cock hard as a fucking rock, I sprint up the metal stairs, jumping over the last one. My feet connect with the platform, a guard pulling the velvet rope aside just in time for me to pass through. By the time I reach the figure in the corner, head tipped back and laughing hysterically, I’m clutching her shoulders and dragging her to her feet before either of us has a chance to recognize the other.
Ignoring the squeals coming from behind me, I pull her through the crowd and toward the stairs leading to my office. Her tiny fists beat into my back, and one of my hands leaves her wrist to fist in her hair, keeping her plastered to my side to weaken her blows.
She stumbles, but I don’t slow my pace, something hot and evil pulsing through my veins at her presence.
Barely married, my fucking ass.
Caroline Harrison is mywife, and it’s time she realizes what that means—that I’m not the kind of guy that shares or one okay with her keeping secrets.
Benny unlocks my office door and pushes it open as we approach, offering a curt nod as I pull Caroline in behind me. I body her against the door as it clicks shut, my hand immediately forming a vise around her delicate throat. I’m prepared to kiss the fight from her when the haze of vexation finally clears, and I get a good look at the girl I’ve just manhandled upstairs.
A girl that is most certainlynotmy wife.
REALIZATION DAWNS on me that this is, in fact, Juliet Harrison—my reckless, wanton sister-in-law. Stories of her escapades, which include fucking priests and drinking until she blacks out at any and all public functions, run rampant in King’s Trace.
Her name is as much a household one as mine. But this is the first time I’m getting a good look at her. Even at our wedding ceremony, I only had eyes for one person.
Where Caroline is often front and center, the prim and proper daughter Dominic is proud to parade around, Juliet gets hidden from the spotlight—her life theKing’s Trace Gazette’swet dream.
It strikes me that, although she looks like a carbon copy of her sister, she also looks incredibly young. More innocent. There aren’t soft lines gracing the corners of her blue eyes, and the frown that seems etched into Caroline’s very being is absent with her sister.
I’m also certain she’s not old enough to be here.
