CHAPTER FORTY SIX

Clint sat in his den with Raffalle over copious amounts of alcohol.

“Well?”

Since the previous day, he’d been a crazed lunatic, intent on revenge

and blood and death for the bullets that had been meant for him but had hit

the woman he loved instead.

“It was one of Dogan Hampster men. When I caught up to him, he wouldn’t talk.

Brady and I had to overpower him and tie him down. It took hours before I

got the full story.”

“And?”

“You won’t like it. Beatrice told him what you did to Alva’s

husband and how you were going to settle down with Genevieve and stop all business .”

Clint paced the floor, regret and the weight of responsibility crushing

him. Beatrice should never have been at their family Christmas. But even so,

if he hadn’t played with her, used her body and screwed with her mind, she

might not have gone to one of his business men set on instigating violence.

“I know Beatrice is your best friend and you and Beatrice have history,

but she’s a loose cannon. She’s da