Page 13

13

Thea

T he faint sound of sirens and yelling coming from outside registered in my brain. A door flung open and Marku’s guard burst back in.

“We need to leave, sir! There’s a fire.”

Konstantin did not look amused at having his wedding further interrupted. He threw a furious glare at my father, probably wondering why everything had unexpectedly gone to shit. He wasn’t the only one.

Was this an accident, or were we under attack?

An attack seemed unlikely. Nobody had ever staged an attack on our home before. In clubs and restaurants, sure, but here? The damned place was a fortress, so it made no sense.

Enemies who attacked in plain sight would encounter intense resistance, both from my father’s guards and also from the men who’d accompanied Marku. Yet none of the guards acted like the enemy was at the gate.

If someone had staged an attack, it was a very subtle one. Equally, it could just be my fairy godmother intervening to save me from a fate worse than death.

“Finish the fucking vows!” Dad yelled at the priest, sounding more stressed than he had in ages. “Thea, get back here now!”

“Do as Daddy says, Thea, or she pays.” The more Verity thrashed and screeched, the deeper the knife cut, further escalating her panic. As much as I wanted to kill Torrance with my bare hands, I needed to calm my sister down. Right now, he held all the cards.

“Verity! It’s OK! I’m here!” I kept my voice low and even.

She startled, fixing me with teary amber eyes. “Thea?”

“You need to calm down, Verity. It’s time to sleep.”

“Sleep,” she repeated, slumping against Torrance, the fight seeping out of her body as the sedative kicked in again.

“Torrance, bring Thea over here, now!” Dad’s voice rose when Marku’s guards tried to steer their boss toward the nearest door.

Torrance pushed Verity to the floor and shoved the blade back in its holster. Marku’s men pulled him away from the priest and my father, and after exchanging angry words, they left. It looked like the wedding had been called off. For now, at least.

Alfonso, one of Dad’s trusted bodyguards, jogged over. I heard him say the garage was on fire and all his beloved cars were gone. A small chuckle broke free. He loved those cars more than anything in the world.

My father cursed before barking orders at the remaining guards left in the room. I watched, uncaring, as the priest crawled under a console table and pulled out his hip flask.

Since Torrance’s attention was on my father, not me, I pulled Verity to her feet and started leading her away.

“Not so fast, principessa ,” Torrance hissed. In two strides, he was on us, safety off, gun in hand.

“Shouldn’t you be out there, dealing with the fire?” I asked, one eye on the hand holding the gun. I wouldn’t put it past the bastard to shoot Verity and claim it was an accident.

“Oh, I will once you’re safely locked away.”

“You can’t lock us up in a burning house!”

“The house is fine. The fire is being dealt with.”

“We should go outside, where it’s safe,” I pleaded. Smoke inhalation was dangerous.

Torrance clearly didn’t give a fuck about our safety, even though the smoke grew thicker by the second. He pulled Verity from me and pointed the gun at the back of her head.

Dad came over. “Something’s wrong,” he hissed, scanning the room. “There’s a separate fire in the wine cellar.”

“Maybe faulty wiring,” I suggested. “It’s not like you’ve spent much on maintenance over the years.”

Dad ignored me. “Take Thea and Verity. Put them somewhere secure until we can figure out what’s going on.”

“Yes, sir.”

My father paused before fixing Torrance with a hard look. “Don’t let anything happen to them. Marku will want a refund if they end up dead. Are we clear?”

Torrance nodded. “Of course, sir. Nothing will happen to them on my watch.” His grip on Verity’s arm tightened, but her head lolled sideways and she showed no reaction. Whatever drug he’d given her had not fully worn off.

Turning toward me as Dad strode off with his phone glued to his ear, he leaned in. “Follow me or I’ll blow her brains out.”

“That would be in direct violation of Dad’s order,” I felt compelled to point out.

“Accidents happen,” he sniffed.

Baring my teeth at him, I reluctantly let him push me forward.

The hallway outside the drawing room was empty. A Christmas tree stood forlorn, a few white baubles hanging from the lower branches. Someone had abandoned their drink on a polished wood console table. It felt like the Mary Celeste in here, cast adrift on the Atlantic.

Everyone must have fled outside to avoid burning to death, not that I could see any flames. If a fire still burned, it was under control, but acrid smoke remained, irritating my eyes and stinging my throat. It tasted bitter, like all the many mistakes I’d made in my life, and I desperately wanted to get away from the stench of burning cars and whatever else had gone up in flames.

Hopefully, none of the staff. Even if they were loyal to my father, I wouldn’t wish them harm.

The hideous wedding dress chosen by Torrance (probably) clung to my body like a second-skin, torn in places and stained with sweat, tears, blood, and Verity’s snot.

“Stay close, Thea. I wouldn’t want to hurt Verity by mistake.” Torrance loved that he held all the cards in this fucked up situation.

My fists clenched so hard my painted nails dug into my palms, drawing blood, but I pasted a blank expression on my face. The minute he lowered his guard, I’d stick that bastard with a hair chopstick. Through the eye should do it. Straight into the meaty part of his brain. It would be like a DIY lobotomy.

Maybe he’d end up with a sparkling new personality?

A girl could dream.

Better still, he’d be dead, which, if I was being honest, was the preferred outcome.

Dad yelled behind us, shouting orders at his men, while Torrance pushed me forward.

“If you lock us up in the house, we’ll die,” I pointed out.

Torrance grunted but didn’t seem to care. When we passed a window, I saw a fire engine outside. The staff and guests appeared to have vanished, with two guards the only people left. When we reached the next window, I looked again. This time, both guards lay on the ground.

Something didn’t add up here. Not that Torrance appeared to have noticed. He seemed more concerned about leading me away from any rescuers, some of whom might ask problematic questions if they saw a man with a gun escorting two young women.

A muffled gunshot caught his attention. He paused and looked back, but we’d left Dad and his men behind.

I eyed Torrance’s gun. Now would be a good time to disarm him, but he still held Verity. My sister was his trump card. If I tried anything, he’d hurt her without a second thought.

“Sounds like armed men are here,” I observed. “You should maybe let me have a gun. To defend myself.”

“Yeah, I’m not that dumb,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “Now move!”

We rounded the corner and met two firefighters in protective uniforms and helmets. Torrance didn’t try to hide the fact he carried a gun. He probably thought these men were on Dad’s payroll - my father had most of the local law enforcement and other officials locked down. If he needed help, they came running.

I wasn’t so sure about these guys, however. They didn’t act like firefighters.

“Is the fire contained?” Torrance asked.

“For now,” one of the guys said. He wasn’t a native Italian. I could tell from the accent. And Torrance’s frown, he realized something was off, too.

“What’s your name? Is Chief Adolfo here?” Fire chief Adolpho was Torrance’s poker partner.

“Not yet, but he’s on his way. We need to get the ladies outside, where it’s safer.” The guy stepped forward, reaching for Verity, but Torrance shook his head.

“I don’t think so,” he growled, pointing the gun at the man. “I’ll take care of these bitches. Now get the fuck out of my way.” The chatty firefighter moved back and threw his hands in the air.

He glanced at his companion and nodded. “There’s a risk the fire could spread, so we strongly suggest you leave the house, sir.” Torrance’s focus was on the speaker, so he missed the other guy reaching into his jacket for what looked a lot like a gun.

I took a step back and pretended to straighten an unruly lock of hair. My fingers gripped one of the hair chopsticks and yanked it free.

“I’m not worried about the fire, so get the fuck out of my way.”

“Sure thing, pops,” the firefighter replied. “No need for any anxiety. We’re just doing our job.”

Torrance bristled with annoyance at being called ‘pops’ while I moved the chopstick into my right hand.

“Get the fuck out of my way,” he growled threateningly.

I took another step back, ready to act the moment he lowered his gun, but I hit a wall of muscle.

“ Kotenok ,” whispered a familiar voice. “Relax, I’m here to rescue you.”