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“How are you out of prison?” I whispered, staring at the stranger who had once been my father.Roland.
“Money can achieve many things. Why do you think I’ve been working so hard? I’m trying to better our lives, Fallon. I’m trying to get back everything that was lost.” He took three quick steps towards me, and then he lunged.
He was strong, and despite my struggles, I couldn’t get free. “Joe! Please,” I begged, desperately trying to free myself. “Don’t let him do this.”
Roland began dragging me down the path as I kicked out, thrashing in his iron grip. Joseph stepped forwards.
“Don’t even think about it, Joseph. I’m doing this for the family. For our legacy.”
My brother’s eyes filled with tears, and he shook his head.I’m sorry, he mouthed, his lips trembling.
“Sorry means nothing,” I spat. “How can you stand by and watch this happen? Youknowwhat he did to me.”
“He knows what’s best for the family.” Roland yanked me back harder as he increased his pace. “Stop struggling. You’re only going to hurt yourself.”
As much as I wanted to lash out, to thrash and kick and get free, he had a point. I shouldn’t waste my energy struggling. I needed to be smart about this.
I allowed myself to go lax, although it went against all my survival instincts. We reached Joseph’s car, and Roland shoved me inside, keeping my hands behind my back and binding them with a strip of duct tape. “I’m sorry to do this to you, Princess, but I can’t risk you trying to contact anyone or, worse, getting ideas about leaving. We need to complete the second part of the plan, and I want you to see the consequences with your own eyes. Once it’s over, I’ll be on a private plane to a place the law will never be able to touch me, and the two of you will be able to continue my legacy.”
Okay. He had an actual plan. This was worse than I thought. I needed to find out exactly what was happening here. “Why should I be interested in continuing your legacy?”
Glancing at me in the rear-view mirror while he started up the engine, Joseph in the passenger seat, his eyes narrowed. “Because it’s your heritage. Because your mother deserves to return to the life that she’s accustomed to. And because Alstone Holdings needs to pay. After I’m finished with them, we’ll be back on a much more even footing. They won’t know what hit them.” That same cold smile from earlier appeared on his face, sending a chill down my spine.
“What’s the plan?” I asked, keeping my voice flat like I didn’t care one way or another.
He chuckled. “You’ll soon see. But once it’s done, I’ve lined up a meeting with Peter Parkinson-Jones. He’s very interested in a match with you if we can bring him some of Alstone Holdings’ assets, particularly the town centre land that they own.”
Joseph’s head shot around, his eyes widening. “Peter Parkinson-Jones? Isn’t he forty-something?”
Roland spun the wheel, sending me sliding across the back seat. “He’s prepared to overlook her indiscretions, and he has a peerage. She should be grateful that anyone’s interested after she’d been sullied by the Lowry boy.” He pointed at his neck. “Even with the mark of a whore on your skin.”
A whore? Then I realised he was referring to the love bite on my neck. Too bad for him I liked being marked by the man I loved. And as for his idea, that was never, ever happening. It was laughable that he even thought it might. There was nothing that could persuade me to marry a man I didn’t love, not anymore. He held nothing over me.
I bit down on my tongue in an effort to remain silent, tasting blood. The car swerved, and my head knocked against the window.
“Is that—” Joseph turned right around in his seat, staring out of the back window.
Roland slammed his foot down on the accelerator. “Pathetic. He’ll never catch us. And if he does, well…” His laugh was almost maniacal. “Part of my plan will happen sooner rather than later.”
Twisting as best as I could with my hands bound behind my back, I stared out of the rear windscreen.
There, visible in the distance, was a matte-black motorbike, the rider wearing dark jeans, boots, and a leather jacket, topped with a matte-black helmet. The helmet’s visor was also black, hiding his face, but I’d know him anywhere.
And he was headed straight for us.
My knight didn’t come for me on a stallion, wearing shining armour and waving a sword. No, he came on a metal beast with the power of two hundred horses, wrapped in leather and carrying a wickedly sharp knife.
TWENTY-EIGHT
“What is it now?” I barked at my assistant, Rachel, when she entered my office without knocking.
She flinched back, and I gave her what I hoped passed for an apologetic look. Clearing her throat, she straightened her shoulders. “Sorry, sir. Mr. Cavendish has requested everyone’s presence in the conference room.”
“Right.” Shrugging my suit jacket back on, I stalked through the building to the conference room, pausing in the doorway when I took in the scene in front of me. Arlo Cavendish, Paul and Stella Drummond, our team of lawyers, several assistants and junior managers, and our children and their assorted collection of hangers-on. I scanned the faces…Caiden, Winter, Weston, Lena, Cassius, Jessa…even Lloyd Mackenzie was there, sitting next to Winter’s friend Kinslee. I pursed my lips. Lloyd Mackenzie, or Mack, as my son referred to him, had been a bit of a thorn in my side over the years. Zayde had been friends with him when they lived on the housing estate, and I’d had my concerns that he would lead my son into trouble, so I’d discouraged their friendship. In fact, I’d encouraged Zayde to cut all ties with his old life, something that I regretted in hindsight, especially after reflecting on the recent tabloid article. It must have been jarring for Zayde to be plucked from his old life and thrust into mine, and yet I’d never taken the time to think about how it had affected him.
I’d been young, foolish, and reckless when I’d had the one-night stand with Zayde’s mother, and yet I couldn’t even begin to regret it because it had brought him to me. I was proud of my son. He’d been through a lot in his life, experienced things that no one should have to face, and here he was—
Hold on a moment. Where was he?
