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I might never notice, if not for the other pair of eyes burning like a laser.
But Lucia’s stare is all cold hatred.
To her, I’m a living reminder of how often her husband must’ve strayed, and now I’ve invaded her house.
My stomach sinks.
I shrink away behind Grant.
Especially when Montero won’t stoplookingat me.
Like he’s trying to understand this fantastic new creature in front of him, oblivious to Lucia tossing her hair and eyeballing Grant like a judge ready to hand down a sentence.
“How many times must you barge into my home in one week, Captain Faircross?” she bites off.
“Don’t,” Grant growls. “Lady, I don’t have time for your offended bullshit. My little cousin’s missing. Pretty sure she ran off with Ros, and Ros is always with Aleksander. She’s not answering her phone. So I’d damn well appreciate it if you could tell me where your two lovebirdswent.”
Lucia smirks. “I’m afraid they’re a little out of your reach. Come now, what are you worried about? If the little girl’s with them, they’ll take good care of her, certainly.”
The emptiness in her voice makes my heart fall out.
For the first time, I’m afraid for Nell and Ros both.
Grant’s knuckles strain in hard ridges as he stomps forward, baring his teeth.
I pull back on his arm, shaking my head with a whisper.
“Grant. Don’t.”
Meanwhile, Montero keeps staring at me like a statue, his gaze blank and impenetrable.
How could he?
How couldthey?
What the hell was my mother thinking?
And with Ros, if they knew—if they just stood back and watched and let it happen, let Aleksander play this sick game...
Grant goes stock-still.
“Don’t make me arrest you both,” he snarls. “And fuck the consequences to my career. Tell me where they are.”
“On the coast by now,” Lucia answers haughtily, her lips curving smugly. “They’ve eloped. My dear son wouldn’t wait for a fairy-tale wedding. Since Rosalind’s practicallyfamily”—she pauses and sends me a cutting look—“and since I couldn’t be supportive enough of their little relationship, they’ve taken matters into their own hands, I’m afraid. There’s a priest waiting to marry them on Aleksander’s private yacht at Wrightsville Beach.”
Crap.
Aleksander must have pressured her.
Somehow, he must’ve known the clock was ticking, so he wants to bring this horrible game to its conclusion before it’s too late.
Marry her so she’ll stop resisting and he can have his way, and then he’ll get what he wants.
An abomination.
“Why didn’t you stop them?” I whisper before I can stop myself. I’m talking to Lucia, but I’m locked on Montero, eye to eye, searching for—
I don’t even know.
