Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 64885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
“You’re a senseless coward,” I snapped, tears welling in my eyes as anger overtook every other rationality in my brain.
“You watch your mouth, girl—”
“No you watch yours, Father.” His eyes flared wide, a shade of red washing over his face making him look mottled. “You are the biggest coward I've ever known in my entire life. And I've seen some pretty pathetic men over the years. Ones that you've paraded in here, dangling me like some piece of bait for their alliance. It must drive you mad, being as insecure as you are. A pathetic little man given power because his father had it before him. You've never earned anything in your life, except maybe my hatred, so congratulations.”
His hands balled into fists, and he chucked his full coffee mug at my head.
I ducked, the hot liquid and ceramic mug just barely missing me as it crashed against the wall and shattered to pieces on the floor.
“Do you want to get hit? Is that it? You're practically begging me for it.”
I backed up a step down the hallway, never taking my eyes off of him. “If you touch me, even try to, I promise I’ll find a way to kill you.”
Shock radiated over his features, but they were quickly replaced by anger. He started after me, fist raised, and I bolted for the front door.
I didn't care if I had to fight off all the guards, and I could only hope that they hadn't reported to their post yet because of the early morning hour.
Father caught up to me just as I had my hand on the knob, his hand fisting into the fabric of my shirt as I threw the door open—
The unmistakable sound of a gun cocking cut through my cries.
“Take your hands off my wife.” Gareth's tone was lethal, and I snapped my head up, finding him standing there with my parting farewell note crumpled in his hand.
CHAPTER 19
Gareth
Doyle stumbled back a couple steps, the shock of me on his front porch without any alarms going off clearly surprising him. Not to mention the gun in my hand.
Immediately, I tugged Serenity behind me, the tension in my muscles only relaxing a fraction now that I knew she was safe. Her fucking note from this morning had been clear as day, despite all the words being wrong.
I didn't know what Doyle had on me, but it had been strong enough for her to come running back here.
I stepped into the house, towering over Doyle, my gun trained on him. “Just because I'm not in this world anymore doesn't mean I won't make a special exception for you, you piece of shit.” I pointed behind me to Serenity. “She's a Maxfield and carries the weight of that name.”
“You can’t break in and kill me in my own house,” he sputtered.
“No,” I said, lowering the gun. “I’m not that stupid.”
I turned my back on him and walked outside, wrapping my arm around Serenity as I led her farther down the sidewalk where Dante was waiting for us. Luckily I’d awoken only two hours after Serenity had left, finding her note. It’d been a quick rally after I’d called my brother and had my jet readied, but we'd made it here as fast as we could.
Doyle stumbled out the front door, yelling after us. “She's mine!”
I turned around, glaring at him. “She belongs to no one,” I said, putting every ounce of hatred into my tone. “Don’t make me fucking shoot you, Doyle. I will if I have to.”
“Quite a few people waiting in line for that.” Dante smirked at Doyle, shaking his head. “Funny thing, we ran into a couple of guys who've been looking for you,” he said sliding his hands casually into his pockets as if this were any other business meeting. “They're waiting just inside the gates. We took the liberty of inviting them in. Seems you've got some explaining to do. But we'll let them sort that out.”
All the color drained from Doyle's face. He practically sprinted back inside, slamming the door behind him. He could try to run, but the Irish he’d betrayed had already surrounded his property. We’d taken the liberty to call them the moment I'd found Serenity’s letter.
“Dante?” I asked after we'd made it through the gates to our awaiting cars parked on the street. “You coming?”
His smirk deepened. “Nah,” he said. “I'll catch a different flight later. I've got a front row seat to an invitation-only event, and the Irish want a sit-down after. I wouldn't miss it for the world.”
“Stay safe,” I said.
“Always, little brother.” He nodded to Serenity, who was still trembling beneath my arm, and I gently guided her into the back seat, climbing in after her and telling the driver to take us to the airport.
“You know,” I said once we were on the road. “I don’t remember reading infiltrating your father’s estate on your ‘must do’ list.”