Series: Webs We Weave Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 162520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)
“I know.” You’re worse.
Nova storms away, and quickly, I assure Varrick, “I’ll talk to him,” and I chase after Nova as he barrels out the heavy front doors.
“Nova!” I yell, the wolf knockers clattering behind me as the doors bang shut. He’s skipping steps as he heads down the winding staircase cut into the rock. The stone is wet, but solar lights illuminate the pathway in the dark. “Nova! Winchester!! Slow down, man!”
Nova lands on the wooden dock. I’m hot on his heels as he walks around to where Oliver’s speedboat is tied off. The Salty Miss sways against rough waves.
“You really want to sleep on that tonight?” I question. “You’re going to hurl, and your face—”
He just now touches his cheek. Just registering he’s been cut. His face broke the mirror. He sees the blood on his fingertips.
“It looks deep,” I tell him, hovering while he reaches for the rope tied around a metal cleat. “Nova.”
“What?!” He straightens up, his pain so forceful, I feel asphyxiated the second he looks at me. Like he’s shoving all the torture down my throat. “Better me than my brother.”
Meaning Oliver’s cut from his shaving mishap did not scar. The one on Nova’s face—yeah, that is going to leave a lasting mark.
This isn’t a typical bad night from a shitty job, the way he’s making it out to seem.
We’re both breathing hard, and Nova points back up at the mansion. “He’s not the first father figure who’s hit me.”
“But he’s the first one who’s actually your father.”
He shifts, turning his back to me, crouching to unspool the rope.
“It’s almost over. Just come back inside, man. You’re going to worry your sister and your fucking brother.” He ignores me. “You’re worrying me.” Not that he cares.
“I can’t stay there right now, Rock. I’m getting a room at the Harbor Hotel.” His voice is final, resolute. There is no swaying Nova Graves tonight.
Understood.
I tell him I’ll untie the last cleat. He reaches out for the Salty Miss, about to climb on board. Then he twists back to me. “Do me a favor. When all this is over, the next time you see that motherfucker”—he takes a hot breath—“give him a fuck you from the last Wolfe.”
It barrels into me.
Who I am.
The real last Wolfe alive.
FORTY-TWO
Jake
Niall Greensboro has been my family’s butler for as long as I can remember. He drove me to boarding school when I’d been too scared to ride alone in the helicopter. And when I got older, was no longer scared, he offered to take me anyway. On those long drives, we talked about books, movies, normal topics kids want to chat about with their parents.
But I’ve never deluded myself into thinking he’s a father figure. He has a loving wife who lives in a midsized cottage down the street. His daughter is a microbiologist in Providence. He’s here because my family trusts him, and he’s remained here because we pay him well.
So when he calls me this morning to tell me he’s quitting, I make it a point to meet him at the estate. Warm sun streams through the kitchen, and Niall pours bourbon into two glasses. “It’s just not the same since your mother passed.”
“I thought the parties had died down.” Looking around the room, I don’t see any broken bottles on the floor or holes in the wall. The shattered windows have been replaced from the last rager three weeks ago—the party where Phoebe was drugged.
Niall pushes the glass toward me. “They have. Your brother must have gotten some sense in him, or the repair bills were adding up.”
“Or his reputation was taking a hit.” I raise the glass to my lips.
Niall sighs heavily, disappointment etching his brows. “That too.”
“It’s not Maxwell Abbot, the staff manager, is it?” I ask him, thinking about Everett Tinrock’s alias. I’d hired him for the con, but if he’s not treating my staff well—
“No.” Niall waves a hand. “No, Maxwell has been a fantastic manager.” He laughs. “If you ask me, he’s a little too lenient with the time off, but…everyone here loves him.”
That’s good and terrible at the same time, since I’ll have to find a replacement once Everett leaves town. “Then what is it?” I ask.
Niall stares out the window at the yard. Groundskeepers mill about the bushes, trimming the hedges, planting new annuals for the summer and fall. Cosmos and sunflowers. “Things are different now. I don’t know how to explain it. There’s just a shift here, and I think it’s time for me to move on.”
His gaze descends upon me with a great deal of concern. “Have you ever thought about that?”
I don’t follow. “About what?”
“Moving on.” His brows rise. “It’s not too late for you, you know. To get out. Take whatever your mother left you and go. Start fresh somewhere else. Build another life. You don’t need to be tied to all this.” He waves a hand around the room.