Page 22 of Claimed by Her Forbidden Duke (Forbidden Lords #6)
Chapter Twenty-Two
T he Poseidon warehouse was a dark silhouette against the early evening sky. Edmund emerged from the shadows he had hidden in, his eyes trained on the dusty window on the top floor. According to Gregory, that was where Reed’s office was—where Reed ought to be.
If he wasn’t there, then Edmund would stomach going back to being the man Logan had forged in dark rooms and against a knife’s hilt, created through threats and survival. He would make every scum employee of Reed’s bleed until they confessed his location. But— there , yes. Movement in the office window, a face Edmund could only just make out.
A face he did not know, but his was one that Reed would recognize.
He knew Edmund was coming for him.
A slow, emotionless smile spread across Edmund’s face, and, with Penelope finally melting from his thoughts, he fell into an untethered calm. It was almost a comfort, falling back into that place that had let him do the things he had for seven years, that had let him face himself every morning, knowing he had killed and maimed and still had to do it all over again.
He descended upon the warehouse, and when blades glinted in the flickering light of the mostly empty warehouse, save for a few crates and papers tacked to the wall, he gave in to the revenge he had craved for so long.
He had hunted for this, and now it was time to strike.
Men rushed at him, and he met them head-on easily. He didn’t have to take more lives, but he could fight his way out of this, fell the men so they were breathing—barely. But it counted. He would let them live, and they could crawl for help if they wished.
“You should run while you still can, Your Grace,” one man sneered at him.
Edmund was surprised momentarily to recognize him from the fight at the Amber Lantern. The man smiled toothily.
“You were lying all along,” Edmund scoffed. “I should have known that scum like you have no honor.”
“We have a fight to finish,” the man snarled and swung out a meaty fist that Edmund feigned taking. But right as the man’s body stooped into the blow, Edmund dodged and slammed his fist into the man’s ribs.
As he staggered away, Edmund met the blow of another man, gritting his teeth when their knuckles met awkwardly. This lackey wielded a knife, and Edmund’s breath caught at the threat, but he swiped at him in time for the first man to return. Edmund had them both on the floor in a moment, his elbow digging into the man’s neck.
He growled, “I finish my fights. I suggest you try not to pick any more.” He released the man, hearing him wheeze.
He fought his way through the warehouse, finally making it to the rickety-looking staircase in the far back that led to a steel door. He wasted no more time in ascending and shoving the door open… only to find Cyrus Reed shoving documents, coin bags, and anything he thought was of worth into a bag.
When the door slammed against the wall, Reed started, his eyes wide as he beheld the Duke of Blackstone.
“You truly did come, then,” he sneered, his expression shifting into fake bravado. “I was wondering if you would have your man simply watch me forever. Did you think I did not notice him?”
“It matters little,” Edmund hissed. “You know who I am, so do not waste my time. You kidnapped me—why? Who paid you? Why did you get paid? What reason did anybody have to kidnap me and drop me at the hands of James Logan?”
Reed barked out a laugh. “James Logan. Heavens, that man has caused me some trouble since his death. But you are right. I was paid, Duke of Blackstone. I know about your little search for me, for answers, and I commend?—”
“I will have answers or your blood,” Edmund spat out.
At that, Reed paled, for he knew exactly what Edmund had done in the Caribbean. After a moment, he gave in, his expression hard.
“Logan is dead,” Edmund reiterated. “You lose nothing. You are at the top of the chain now. So speak .”
“James Logan worked in close contact with Finley Stewart, the Marquess of Langwaite.” Reed spoke the words, quick as a knife blow, having the intended effect on Edmund.
Finley… the man who sought business venture after business venture? Who wanted his family name to be well-respected? A man whose control was ruining his sister’s life?
The cogs in Edmund’s brain began to turn.
“Why would he be involved with James Logan?”
Reed smiled indulgently, enjoying having all the answers. “Ambition? Power? Perhaps he had his eye on the figurative throne, thinking himself worthy enough to replace Logan if he orchestrated his downfall. Perhaps he simply wanted Logan on his side to use for social climbing. He is ever so obsessed with it.”
Edmund glared at him.
Reed smirked, happy to have the answers Edmund craved. “You seem haggard, Your Grace. Is everything?—”
“ Tell me ,” Edmund spat.
“Eventually, Logan came to value Finley, but the foolish Marquess became too big-headed once he inherited his title. Logan had once cared about having friends in high places, but he found Finley too arrogant. Perhaps Finley bored him, but we will never know. Regardless, the Marquess came sniveling to me not long after he received his inheritance and asked for money. He wanted to impress Logan—present a new branch of the business. An organization of hitmen, employed and paid for, an ever-growing network of men who would do just about anything.”
I was his first experiment , Edmund realized.
Reed looked back at him, knowing he was piecing it together too. “He owes me a great deal of money, the Marquess of Langwaite. Not only did he take my money to impress Logan before the bastard died, but Finley swindled me in my proposal for Logan. Not hitmen, but women. Women with sharp minds and quick wit. Women whom the ton no longer wanted but we could have made use of for our operations. I wanted to give everybody their own power after being the underdog for so long.”
“Why was I kidnapped?” Edmund’s breath was growing shorter and shorter.
Reed paused for a moment, eyeing him. “Finley introduced Logan to your father.”
Edmund blanched but kept his composure. Memories flooded his mind—secret meetings, whispers of his father’s involvement in something that he had never quite learned the full truth of.
“You sniffed where you shouldn’t have, and you got yourself into trouble. You heard about your father’s involvement in the murder of one Lord Stilton. Poor man, all he did was become the rival of a duke. What a tough, tough business. Regardless, the Duke was influenced by Logan and Finley, who promised that everything would go away. Until you went and got yourself involved.
“Finley was such a weak-spined marquess back then, so new to the title and with insignificant social standing. He was terrified you would learn of his involvement with London’s criminal underground and blackmail him. He asked me to ship you off, claiming to Logan that the hitman organization could be proven through you. Honed and blackmailed, you were our test subject, and Finley reveled in it. He has riches now, but it is only thanks to my and Logan’s generosity, so he will pay. Yes, he will pay very nicely, and very brutally if I so wish.”
“No.”
Edmund’s refusal made Reed falter. “No?”
“No, it will not be brutal, or violent,” he said slowly. After a second, he spoke again. “Testify against Finley. Help me get justice without more violence and walk away with your hands cleaner than ever. With your money, with a new start. Go where you please, continue as you please. I will ensure that you have protection. My influence will ensure that you walk free either completely unscathed or with minimal charges. Help me, Reed. You kidnapped me seven years ago, and I lived through hell, terrified that my sister would get hurt, paying for my mistakes every time I made them. Help me now. Right the wrong you had a hand in.”
“I do not consider myself to have a heart, Your Grace, if that is what you are trying to appeal to.”
“No, I appeal to your search for power in Logan’s wake. As I said, continue as you please. Frankly, I do not care. I want justice, and I want my hands clean from now on. I will have the authorities arrive at Langwaite Manor before midnight. I will wait to hear from you.”