Page 176 of Conquered

“A guy claiming to be a solicitor in London,” I tell him and Loki, who snuggles even closer to my back. “He says my mum left a will, and he wants to see me tomorrow to talk through it.” My mouth feels dry saying the words, my tongue darting out to lick my lips. My head is spinning with all the possibilities, with even more secrets that she must have kept.Why could no one else know about this?

“Hey,” Loki says gently from behind me, bringing his face round so that he’s looking directly at me in the dim light. “If you need to go to London, we can go to London.”

“Really?” The sense of relief that floods through me at his words is palpable. My whole body sags into his embrace, which tightens further.

“Absolutely, baby,” Jax replies, squeezing my hand reassuringly, and I turn to give him a small relieved smile.

Bringing my phone back up, I take it off mute and bring it up to my ear.

“Mr Payne?” I enquire.

“I’m still here, Miss Darling,” he responds kindly.

“Can I give you a call when we land? I’m not sure when that will be, what with the time difference and the flight, but maybe we can arrange a time to meet then?”

“That sounds like a grand plan, Miss Darling. I shall ping over my personal mobile, and this is the office number. Just drop me a line, and provided it’s not after midnight, I shall answer.”

“Thank you, Mr Payne,” I say, feeling lighter now that we have a plan.

“You are most welcome, Miss Darling. I shall speak to you soon. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” I return, ending the call.

I sit staring at the screen for a moment, my head swirling with the phone call, and what it all means.

“Let’s go wake the others,” Loki suggests, kissing my cheek. “One step at a time, Pretty Girl.”

I nod. “One step at a time.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

ASH

We step out of the plane to drizzle and grey skies.Ah, England in the winter, nothing quite like it.Especially after leaving the tropical climes of Bali.

But I promised myself that I would be everything that Lilly needed, and she needed to come to London, so here we are, on a private airstrip just outside of the metropolis, freezing our nuts off.

Pulling our coats tighter around us—thank fuck we brought them when we left Colorado—we hurry over to a black Mercedes V Class, our private transfer provided by Claridge’s Hotel. We could have stayed at the London home, but it belongs to my shitstain father, and I try to avoid anything to do with that waste of life. I also like showing off for Lilly, stupid I know. But what’s the point of wealth, if you can’t experience the luxuries of life? Or share it with those that you care about?

Our driver is standing there in the rain, holding the door open for us as we approach. No umbrella poor fucker.

“Thanks,” I say as we climb in, the others getting in behind me.

Loki and Jax are quicker than me and manage to sit on either side of Lilly, facing myself and Kai.Bastards. This sharing thing definitely can be a challenge at times. It takes getting used to, although, it’s easier because it’s them, my best friends in the whole world.

We all buckle in and are driving off toward the motorway within minutes.

“Breakfast at Claridge’s first, then Paynes,” I tell Lilly, glancing down to see her wringing her hands in her lap.

The boys take one hand each, intertwining their fingers with hers, and she visibly relaxes at the contact. I feel a spark of sharp jealousy, wishing it were me sitting next to her. Holding her hand. Comforting her. But then the sticky feeling passes as I see the way her shoulders relax a little at their touch.

The voice of my cunt of a father tells me I’m letting her make me soft. But as with most things he says, I ignore it.

My eyes land back on the road, noticing the traffic building up as we get closer to the city.Fucking rush hour.

Eventually, we make it to Claridge’s, which isn’t far from our home in Mayfair. The car drops us off outside the red brick facade of the hotel, the flags looking bedraggled in the rain. The Head Concierge, Martin, comes out to open the car door and direct the bellboys towards our luggage in the trunk.

“Welcome back, Mr. Vanderbilt,” the older man greets me as I exit the car, holding an umbrella up so that I don’t get wet from the rain that is falling harder now.