Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
“Can I get you anything?”
“It’s a party, Hamish. You can relax and enjoy yourself.”
His mustache twitches. “Like you are?”
I let the fake smile slip from my face to give him a smirking grimace. “It’s not really my type of party.”
“Understandable. Myself, I’d rather have a cup of tea and a good book to read by the fire.”
“That sounds lovely,” I say. “I’m guessing Roy Manor has a beautiful library?”
“Several, in fact. I’m looking forward to giving you the full tour one day.”
Across the ballroom, a tall, elegant figure materializes between the columns. I recognize that gray suit anywhere. St. James turns as if he senses me looking at him and raises his drink in a silent toast.
“Huh,” I mutter, and when Hamish inclines his head, I explain, “I didn’t realize he’d be here.”
“You’ll find that Rex’s parties have quite a diverse guest list. But if Sebastian St. James wants to attend a gathering, the lack of invitation won’t stop him.”
Sebastian. I make a note of his first name. “He’s all right.” I wait for Hamish to disagree, and when he doesn’t, a thought occurs to me. “Hamish, the morning I left Roy Manor. . .” And by that I mean the morning he helped me escape.
My train of thought slows. I can’t believe I’m about to ask this, but I have a gut feeling and have to know. “Did you call St. James and ask him to help me?”
Hamish keeps a blank face. I bet he’s amazing at poker. “Now, what makes you think that, I wonder?”
“I know you let me out.” I’m not asking him to admit that, so I plow on. “But you knew Rex would be after me. That I’d need someone on my side, someone strong enough to stand up to him.”
I knew St. James was a successful businessman, but now that I know he’s part of the most powerful gang in New Rome, it makes sense that he’s able to face off with Rex. He might be the only one who can.
“I’m afraid I can neither confirm nor deny your suspicions. Although I can compliment you on your deductive skills. It seems you’re as talented a detective as they say.”
“Thanks.” I flush at the high praise. I was right. Hamish was the one to alert St. James that I was alone in the city and needed an ally. “I guess, I was wondering. . . how did you know you could trust him?” My instincts say that St. James is dangerous, but I can trust him. But my instincts thought that about Rex, too.
I guess I’m looking for proof that my instincts aren’t fucked.
Hamish and I stand side by side, facing the ballroom. When his answer comes, it’s almost too low to be heard. “I recognized a man who has condemned himself to being alone. Sacrificing himself in service for a cause. He sees himself as an island, married only to duty.”
“Duty?” I blink. Are we talking about the same St. James? The man who’s part of a notorious criminal gang and co-owner of a sex club?
“Yes, duty. He has a sense of honor. He is loyal to the brotherhood.”
“You mean Fraternitas.” I sound doubtful.
“For all their sins, the secret society is good for the city. Rex and I discovered they have a net positive return on reducing violent crime.”
“Honor among murderers?” I murmur.
Hamish inclines his head. “Indeed.”
“All right.” Criminals, murderers, talking about a gang like it’s a good investment? I can’t take this anymore. “Excuse me.” I flee to the restroom.
Two slim women in suits peel off from the wall and follow me. My bodyguards do a great impersonation of shadows. “Wait here,” I order before entering the powder room. I just need a moment alone.
My reflection in the mirror shows a glamorous woman with a sleek updo. Diamonds sparkle at her neck and finger. But I don’t recognize myself anymore. I’m beginning to realize that no one is what they seem.
I gaze longingly at a bathroom stall. I’m tempted to hide in there for the rest of the night.
Movement in the corner startles me a second before a male voice says, “Hello, Mrs. Roy. Or should I say, Swallow?”
I whirl, wishing I’d kept my purse with my handgun on me. “Who’s there?”
A man emerges from the furthest stall from the door. He’s sallow-skinned with deep circles under his eyes. The room takes on a chartreuse tinge, my psychic senses telling me something’s off.
I hitch up my dress to run to the door and he holds up his hands. His left is empty, while his right holds a stained piece of paper. “Wait! I have something for you.”
I pause, but only for a moment. The room tilts, disorienting me. I’ve been worried that my instincts are broken, but at the moment, they’re shrieking like a siren. I won’t ignore them again.