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“So you’re giving me permission to crash a party?”
“Yes,” he growls. “Don’t get used to it.”
“I’ll just grab some food and then—”
“Now, Callen,” Freddie orders. “Right fucking now!”
“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, boss,” I say. “I’m on my way.”
I hang up. The princess’s secret may be unearthed soon, but not before she completes my job. Freddie can believe I’m racing across the countryside to pluck Seb from the cesspool of twats, but he doesn’t know I’m already at the scene…
I have the perfect vantage point at the top of a nearby hill where I can watch over the manor grounds from my bike. Collingsbrook’s security is positioned around the borders, but driving a Rolls Royce isn’t the only way in.
I check my watch. If Rose is efficient enough to cut a body into tiny pieces, then she’s capable of slipping a package into Lord McGowan’s hands. I already know he’s at the party. He was among the first to arrive with his insufferable daughter, who always tries to bury her nose in Seb’s scrotum.
Lord McGowan hasn’t changed since I last saw him. He’s lucky there’s some distance between us. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than pulverising his face until it doesn’t look human.
How is it fair he gets to live an ordinary life after wiping my baby from existence? Tilly had her whole life ahead of her. He stripped her of everything. Her first day at school, her first boyfriend—whose arse I would have kicked—going to university, getting a job… That despicable monster stole her life and faced zero consequences. To him, she was roadkill.
I take out my wallet and stroke the torn edges of her photograph.
“Daddy will look after you, sweetheart,” I promise her, kissing it.
I’ll get her the vengeance she deserves. Rose understands why I need this. She hates me, but we’re alike. No one turns into a killing machine without experiencing trauma. Our similarities have drawn us together, and we’ve been building to this moment.
I scan the crowds with my binoculars. There she is. Rose sweeps across the gardens in her black ball gown. The sight of her takes my breath away. She must have shaken Seb off.Nice move. My heartbeat quickens as she approaches him.
“Go on,” I encourage. She speaks to Lord McGowan. I’m not sure what she’s saying, but he appears to be laughing. She’s charming him. I watch as she pulls my package from the bag and hands it to him. He won’t believe his luck. “Well done, princess.”
She’s the Grim Reaper disguised as an angel.
Now all I have to do is sit back and wait for him to open my special gift. I’ll be able to watch the sky light up. Tilly always used to enjoy watching the fireworks with me.
CHAPTER43
SEB
Iwalk around in circles. I must have circled the room at least three times already. I see my mother, distant cousins I actively avoid, and a few others I do business with, but no Rose.
Where is she?
Whenever I take a step, people draw me into conversations to persuade me to invest in their hair-brained schemes. After getting my ear chewed off by Lord McGowan about an opportunity that’s most definitely a pyramid scheme, I’m ready to bail. Getting cosy with Rose in front of the fire sounds like the best way to end the evening.
My older brother, Ralph, catches my eye while schmoozing with other guests and smirks. He walks with his chest puffed out like a peacock. He’s the golden boy of our family and can do no wrong in my mother’s eyes, but he’ll always be the cunt who almost drowned me in our pond as a child.
Mum beckons me over with a wiggle of her finger. It’s too late to pretend I haven’t seen her. From the outside, we project the illusion of being the perfect family, but we’re toxic.
“I see you were speaking to Lord McGowan,” she comments.
Inevitably, she’ll have been watching me like a hawk all evening. Since an unfortunate incident when I got wasted as a teenager at the yearly garden party and passed out behind an ice sculpture, she doesn’t trust me to behave at public functions.
“Yes,” I reply vaguely, still looking for Rose.
“His daughter Beatrice is a lovely girl,” Mum says. Beatrice is at the top of her list of potential matches for me. I’d rather marry a horse than Beatrice, although there’s not much difference. “She’s a different class of woman. She knows how we do things. That’s the type of woman you need. She’d be a fine choice.”
“You mean a match the family would like me to have,” I correct her. My impatience is rising. “I’m with Rose. If you can’t accept that, then you can fuck off.”
Her head jerks as if I slapped her. “Don’t speak to me like that, Sebastian,” she hisses under her breath, quickly looking around to make sure we’re not being overheard. “This is her influence. I didn’t bring you up to act so uncivilised. We’re not in Hackney.”
