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)
He picks up a wooden stool. Places it in front of us. Then takes a casual seat. “Now. Let’s get started.” He nods to Nova. “You can close that, Son.”
“I’m not your son,” Nova says, but he does shut the secret door, enclosing us in this musty space.
“Biologically, you are. In every other way, you can blame your mother for that.”
Nova glowers at the ceiling to stop from retorting.
“She kept your existence from me,” Varrick says in a softer tone, but it’s also clear he’s disgruntled with my mom. Could this really just be his revenge plot? Take us as assets from the people who deceived him?
Hailey stares at the purple bunny in her hands. Okay, what my mom did is not comparable to Hailey keeping her pregnancy a secret now. Hailey hasn’t lied for twenty-five years about a baby, and my mom only did that to protect us from Varrick.
Supposedly.
She did. He’s a murderer.
Jake and Oliver are good guys. Hailey will tell them eventually.
“Yeah,” I cut in snidely. “She did keep us from you. I wonder why that was.”
He opens his palms. “I don’t know what she told you, but I’m sure she felt she couldn’t trust me, even if I’d told her exactly what I planned to do and when I planned to do it. I never lied to Elizabeth. Unfortunately, that trust wasn’t reciprocal.”
Rocky leans forward. “Could that be because you planned to kill children?”
“You mean you and your two brothers,” Varrick says as easily as if we were discussing the stock market. “I didn’t plan to kill Christian and Josephine’s kids. The three of you weren’t supposed to be in the backseat when I ran your parents’ car off the road. I only realized the kids were with them later. Everett and Addison were tailing me, which—how do you think they were tailing me in the first place?”
We’re trained not to fill in the blanks.
So no one says a thing.
He nods to himself, staring around at each of us. “They knew the plan to eliminate Christian and Josephine. They got cold feet. But you can thank them for pulling you out of the river, Brayden.” He locks eyes with Rocky.
I can’t believe Varrick is admitting, out loud, to murder.
He cups his hands together, elbows resting on his thighs while he slightly manspreads. “You can thank them for a lot. They taught you well.” He studies our postures, likely the same way we’re examining him.
Hailey blinks out of a stupor. “They were on vacation,” she says. “Christian and Josephine. They were leaving for a family trip. Of course they’d have their children in the backseat.”
The insinuation is clear.
He’s lying.
Varrick eyes her for an extra-long beat. “Correct.” He smiles at a thought. “You really are Addison’s daughter.”
“Not biologically.”
“But in every other way.” He speaks quickly, likely sensing Rocky about to interject. “Christian didn’t enjoy traveling in the car with his kids. He planned to have the nanny drive them separately. That was until she came down with the flu. Which I didn’t know at the time.”
It’s a convenient twist on the story our parents told.
Rocky sits backward, reaching an arm behind Trevor, who’s been staring Varrick down without blinking, like a real psycho.
At least he’s ours.
“Let’s say you’re being honest,” Rocky decrees. “You never planned to kill children. How does that change the fact that you premeditated the murder of Christian Wolfe?”
“And Josephine Wolfe,” I add.
“William Wolfe.” Hailey includes Rocky’s grandfather.
“Daphne Wolfe,” Nova says. Rocky’s aunt.
“Brent Wolfe,” Oliver finishes. Rocky’s uncle.
Varrick loosely threads his arms together. “It doesn’t change the fact. I did kill them.”
I’m flabbergasted. “Are you…?” Out of your fucking mind? I want to spit out, but I swallow the words and back down.
Varrick laughs into a wider amused smile at some of our reactions, then grips his knees. “You all could be wearing a wire, and I’d be screwed. But trust does need to go both ways. You’re here, even though I could’ve rigged this entire room with surveillance equipment. Though, given who raised you, I’m assuming you already checked.”
I glance over at Rocky.
He scrutinizes Varrick. “Why kill them?”
“It was the best way to take their fortune. William was unscrupulous. His children, lazy and entitled.”
“That’s not what we do,” Rocky states plainly.
“Isn’t it though?” Varrick motions around the room. “Please, share with me how you all are so different? You’ve been eating through the Koning dynasty with the help of the thirdborn”—he gestures at Jake—“and you’ve killed to do it.”
No one admits to Claudia’s death out loud.
Trevor shifts uncomfortably.
Varrick notices, and Rocky shoves his little brother back into the seat, pressing a protective hand on his chest.
“Varrick,” Oliver muses, drawing his attention off Trevor. “The name. It’s fake. Old Germanic or Dutch.”
Our dad begins to smile. He likes Oliver. I can already tell how much.
I catch myself imprisoning a breath. Nova and I exchange a subtle look of concern. I knew Oliver longed for a father figure as a child, but I just don’t want him to desire our real one now.