ANMELDENARIANAA knot begins tightening somewhere beneath my ribs, and before I can talk myself out of it, I'm scrolling until I find Victor's number.He answers on the second ring. "Ariana.""Are you busy?" I skip the greeting.There's a brief silence, then I hear him exhale on the other end. "That depends.""I'd like to see you.""What happened?" His voice stays flat, but I catch the slight pause before the question, like he's already running through possibilities in his head."I'll explain when I get there."Another pause, longer this time, as if he's weighing something before he answers. "I'm not at the office.""I guessed.""I'm at the penthouse." A beat passes. "I'll tell security you're expected."The line disconnects before I can respond.I set the phone down beside me and look through the windshield, my hand still gripping the wheel tighter than necessary. Three days without hearing from Durrell. Maybe it's nothing, but the quiet feels wrong, and I've learned not to ignore the thing
ARIANAIt's been three days since I last heard from Durrell.My last message to him was delivered but not read. I didn't think much of it at first. Yesterday was swallowed by meetings with Chris, another contractor problem at the Wolves, and two conference calls with Alaric's office over Maxwell's petition.By the time I got home, my head was pounding. I took another pill, ate half my dinner, and fell asleep before I could check my phone again.When I finally wake, sunlight is already pouring through the curtains. I reach for my phone on instinct.10:17 a.m.Too late. I groan and drag myself off the bed. Mrs. P must have taken the twins downstairs hours ago.My heart sinks before I even unlock the screen. No missed calls, and no new messages. My message is still sitting there, unread.For the first time since Durrell left, unease settles properly in my chest. It's not fear. It's just a feeling that something is wrong.Durrell isn't the kind of man who disappears. If he can't talk, he
DURRELLMy hand balls into a fist so tight my knuckles go white. Every muscle in my body locks. I'm trying to restrain myself from launching at him from my seat. The only thing stopping me is the calculation running through my head, three of them, one of me, and Beatrice caught in the middle."The herbal one," Matrov says. His eyes stay on me, watching and waiting.Beatrice slowly shakes her head at me. A small delibrate movement. ‘Don't.’Then she closes her eyes briefly. "It's... second cupboard. Left side."The guard walks into the kitchen. Cabinets open, and ceramic cups clink together. Within minutes, he returns carrying a tray with three steaming cups.One is placed before me, one before Matrov, and the third into Beatrice's trembling hands.Matrov lifts his cup first. "To unexpected reunions." He drinks.I don't touch mine.He notices. "How is Victor?"I look up. "What?""Victor Cox." His smile becomes almost nostalgic. "Still carrying the world on those broad shoulders? Still
DURRELLThe first thing I notice when Beatrice returns is her voice. She's laughing at something Toiri said, speaking Donderdam in that easy way people do when they've known each other forever.Through the sitting room window, I see her hurrying up the stone path, then she freezes.She notices the two men standing outside the cottage. Her shopping bag slips from her fingers, and oranges roll across the path."No..." The word comes out hollow.She rushes toward the front door, not bothering to stop for the scattered fruit. I open it before she reaches it. Her eyes find me immediately, and relief flashes across her face.Then she looks past me, and the relief disappears."Oh..." She steps inside slowly.The third bodyguard is still standing beside the front door, where he's remained for the last twenty minutes.The strange man hasn't moved either. He's still seated calmly at the little wooden dining table, one leg crossed over the other, like he's been invited for afternoon tea.He smil
DURRELLThe photograph of Victor and Helena, standing close enough to know each other, doesn't leave my mind. Beatrice confirmed it without realizing she'd confirmed it. Victor knew my mother better than he ever admitted.Beatrice sets another cup of tea in front of me, and neither of us speaks for a while.Finally I ask the question that's been sitting inside my chest since yesterday. "What happened to her?"Beatrice doesn't answer immediately. She folds her hands together. "I can tell you how it began."I wait."But I can't tell you how it ended."My eyebrows draw together. "Why?""Because that isn't my story to tell." She looks toward Helena's old bedroom. "I only know pieces after she left Donderdam."I nod. "I'll take the pieces."She smiles sadly. "That sounds like your father."I exhale, and lean back in my chair.She inhales slowly. "It started with the Kravens..."She barely gets another word out before three firm knocks echo through the house.Beatrice sighs. "Oh dear." She
ARIANAAlaric Sterling rises to greet me. "Hello, Ariana." "Alaric." I greet him and notice a thick folder waiting on the conference table. He gestures toward the chair opposite him. "Please." I sit, and he opens the file. "I've reviewed the petition, and it's not as bad as it first appears." He assures me. I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. "But," he continues, "it's considerably more complicated." He says as he slides several documents toward me. "The first thing you need to understand is what Maxwell is not asking for." I scan the heading: ‘Petition for Modification of Parenting Arrangement.’ "He's not seeking sole custody." He explains. "I noticed." My eyes scan through the document slowly. "He isn't even seeking primary custody." He continues. I look up. "So what is he doing?" Alaric folds his hands together. "He's asking the court to expand his parenting rights." He taps the first page. "More parenting time." He flips to another page. "Regular overn
*Maxwell*When I stepped off the elevator onto the private floor, I saw them immediately.Two men in dark suits flanked the door to a corner room. Durrell's men. I'd seen enough of them lately to recognize them.Durrell himself stood outside the room, speaking into his phone, watching me approach l
*MAXWELL*The news came from my assistant."Sir, Theodore Chase was shot again. He didn't make it."I stopped mid-step in my office."What?""The Chase family residence, less than an hour ago. It's all over the news."I grabbed my jacket and was out the door before he could say more.The drive to t
*DURRELL*When we arrived at the hospital, she was taken straight to the emergency unit before I had her moved to a VIP ward and requested for the family doctor.She is not crying, and that scares me more than anything.There is blood on her hands. It has dried in thin lines along her fingers, and
“Involved how?”Victor turned back to me.“Theodore requested a private review of a joint logistics agreement three days before he was shot.”My pulse stumbled.“A joint agreement between whom?”“Chase Construction and one of our automotive subsidiaries.”I stared at him.“You’re saying his shootin







