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Henry laughed. “You’re in no position to bargain,” he said. “We do this my way, or we don’t do it at all. Make your choice.”

And he picked up the gun and aimed it at Conor’s head.

Chapter 36

Astrid struggled helplessly against the ropes that bound her to her chair. Surely, she ought to be able to break free now that Conor had loosened them?

But it didn’t seem that he had loosened them. Pulling against them felt like it was only making them tighter.Henry knew what he was doing,she thought bitterly, wondering whether he had ever done something like this before. It certainly didn’tfeellike she was the first person he had ever tied to a chair.

She watched helplessly as he aimed his weapon at Conor’s head. She wanted to shout out again, to tell Conor to give Henry whatever he wanted, that it didn’t matter, thatnothingmattered as much as Conor’s life, but she didn’t dare. She knew she had been provoking Henry by speaking up. If he got angrier, there was no telling what might happen.

She forced herself to sit quietly, waiting for the right moment to say or do something that might turn the situation back in their favor.

“All right,” Conor said quietly. He raised his hands slowly, and Astrid could tell he was also trying not to alarm Henry or push him into acting. “Put the gun down, and I’ll give you what you want.”

“Full ownership of the club?”

“I’ll sign it over to you right now.” There was a heaviness in Conor’s voice, a resignation, and Astrid’s heart went out to him. He cared about this club. She knew that. He considered it one of his life’s great accomplishments.

How dare Henry take it away from him like this?

And when this was all over, Conor would still have to stand trial for murder. A murder Henry had committed.

The injustice of it all made her want to scream. She bit down hard on her lip, forcing herself to stay quiet. Interceding would only make things worse.

Slowly, Henry lowered his weapon. He didn’t set it down, but it hung loosely from his hand, by his side instead of pointing at Conor’s head.

Astrid let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. Her whole body trembled with relief. She felt as if the gun had been pointed at her own heart.

“You’ll have to sign the club over to me,” Henry said. “I’ve got the paperwork all prepared.”

“How are you going to explain what prompted me to do such a thing?” Conor asked.

Astrid had the feeling he was stalling. Was he trying to put off the moment when he would actually have to sign away his club? She wished he wouldn’t. The sooner he cooperated, the sooner they could go home and put this horror behind them.

At least, I hope so.

Henry would let them go, wouldn’t he? If Conor signed the papers, there was nothing to be gained by killing him. The club would already belong to Henry and killing the suspect in Lord Hayward’s murder—and in the very same location, no less—would only reopen that investigation. It would cause the police to look for another suspect.

He can’t kill Conor, Astrid realized, with a sudden flood of relief.He needs Conor to take the fall for his crimes. It was strange that the idea of her husband being falsely accused of murder should suddenly bring her such comfort.

Henry seemed to have no hesitation about answering Conor’s questions. “It won’t be difficult to explain at all,” he said. “You’re a murderer, after all, and you’re perfectly aware that you’re about to stand trial and go to prison for the rest of your life. Obviously, you would want to give your business to someone who could care for it.”

“And you’d be the natural choice,” Conor said.

“Of course. No one knows The Arc better than I do. Not even you. No one is more capable of running it than I am. Admit it, if the circumstances were different, you would be begging me to take over for you.”

“If you hadn’t been the one to frame me, you mean?”

“Yes, that’s what I mean.”

“I admit it,” Conor said.

“Maybe I should take over some of your other responsibilities for you, as well,” Henry said, leering at Astrid. “Since you’ll be away, unable to look after things…”

“That’s not negotiable,” Conor said, his voice suddenly firm. “Astrid will return to her father when I’m convicted. Our marriage will be dissolved. She may marry again in time, if she chooses to do so. Court her if you wish, but now that she’s heard what you’re truly like, I don’t give much for your chances.”

“We’ll see,” Henry said. “After all, I have the same information about the girl’s father that you used to win her hand.”