by Mallory Fox
Whoever the father is, he’s an idiot for letting Pearl go.
Just like I was.
After I put the boat deed away, I take a long shower and change into sweats to do some work at my desk. My laptop is already open and switched on as I sit down in my chair. My head shakes of its own accord. I’m going to have to teach this girl how to sneak in and out without a trace if we’re going to have any luck with taking Marcel down.
To be fair, she did install some dodgy software that I had no idea about. I should at least give her some credit.
I work for an hour or so, sending emails to everyone. Tying up loose ends. There’s an email from Jonesy that I haven’t read yet. I asked him to research the father of Pearl’s kid and get some information on Sophia herself. Why? I’ve no fucking idea. Warped curiosity, I guess.
But now I’ve decided to do what it takes to keep Pearl and her daughter safe, I want to see what her daughter looks like.
I click on the encrypted email and spend a few minutes decoding the information. There’s twisting in my gut and I’m dying for a smoke by the time it’s loaded up. He’s sent me two files and one image. Leaving the image to last, I open up the first file.
It’s an authentication report.
That throws me. What the hell has he been authenticating? Is Pearl not the kid’s mother? Immediately, I’m on edge. I read it through, twice, and then get up off my seat and pour myself neat whiskey. I drink it, downing it one go. I want to laugh. I actually don’t know what the fuck to make of it.
The birth certificate is a goddam fake.
Sitting back down, I slow my breathing, trying to comprehend what the fuck that means. I click open the second file and it’s a hospital record from Chelsea Maternity Hospital. Pearl’s name is at the damn top and the date is not the same date as on the fake birth certificate. The date is a whole year before her daughter was meant to be born, exactly nine months from the day I was sent to Blackheath.
Seconds later, heart in my mouth, I’m clicking on the image. It’s a photo of a little girl with curly dark hair and an impish smile like her mother’s. But it’s her eyes that stop me dead, sucking the life right out of me.
Her vivid blue eyes are very much like mine.
As that settles, a deep ache in my chest where the gunshot wound was, reminding me that I’m not invincible, chooses to make itself known. I’ve had my heart ripped out metaphorically and ripped apart by a speeding bullet physically.
But this, this is soul destroying.
This is heart breaking.
Mouth fucking dry as anything, I get up and pour another straight round, hands shaking as I hold the bottle over the damn glass and knock it back.
Of all the things she’s done, this hurts the most.
How could Pearl not tell me?
Someone chooses at that moment to knock at my door. The foul mood I’m in has me striding over and yanking it open, revealing Lana holding an unopened bottle of Cristal and a stash of coke.
“Can I come in?” Her eyes are bright. Too bright. She’s off her face again like I knew she would be.
I say nothing and hold open the door. She giggles when she sees the scowl on my face and saunters in. “You’re angry. Did Pearl turn you down again?”
“I’m just about to go to bed. You should do the same.”
“Maybe,” she says, placing the champagne bottle on the coffee table and crawling onto the bed, fucking up the sheets after I just fixed them. “I’m just what the doctor ordered?”
“Lana…” I croak.
She laughs in a dreamy way opens up the bag of coke scattering the shit everywhere. Some of it though makes it on to the hardback book she’s trying to use as makeshift table. She looks up, hair in disarray, eyes beckoning. “Come on, Seth, you know you want to. Let Lana take the pain away.”
I exhale sharply, dragging my hands through my hair. This is not what I need tonight. A messed-up Lana trying to get me fucked is not what I need. As tempting as snorting the pain away would be tonight, there’s a reason I can’t do this anymore. Lana has an addictive personality much the same as I do, and being around each other, living and breathing the same fucked up excuses and lies, brings out the worst in us both.
But, hell, I can’t say no to drugs when I’m around her. And when I’m on drugs I can’t say no to her.
Reaching into my jacket pocket I feel for Pearl’s raven pin. Twisting the symbol of everything I’m supposed to stand for between my fingertips, I make up my mind.
Chapter 14
Pearl
The first few messages I get when I turn on my new phone after my PA delivers it to me are from Seth. Most of them are demanding to know where I am and if I’m okay. The last one is an ominous sounding…
Answer your damn phone. We need to talk.
When someone sends you a message like that, you kind of don’t want to talk to them. It brings up all kinds of bad feelings. I type out a few choice replies and hover over send before deciding not to, hiding it away in my bag in my room, ignoring it all day.
After what happened on the marina, I came straight home to England for half term break instead of staying at the lake house like I promised the girls. This is where I should be anyway. Nearly drowning was shock to the system, as well to the mind.
I’m not invincible.
And I’m still reeling from the nerve of the blonde girl who pushed me into the water. Who is she? Why would she try to kill me? She really looked familiar but honestly I can’t place her.
And Seth. Don’t get me started on Seth. Every time I think about him I start banging things and slamming doors. I’m relieved Grams isn’t back from her church meet and that Sophia is at playgroup so they can’t see me like this.
After a few hours, I’m feeling calmer. I make myself a cup of tea and get my phone out. I should really answer all my missed calls and messages from him. There are also a ton of texts from Flick and a few from Gabby.
I swipe open my phone. Seth’s message is still there. I’m just about to text him back, when the device starts vibrating in my hands, bellowing out some annoying ringtone and making me jump out of my skin.
It’s only bloody Seth.
“What? What’s so important you can’t wait for me to text you back?” I say as soon as I answer it.
“Your phone was dead.” The tone of his voice is already annoying. “I’ve been trying to get hold of you for two fucking days. No one has seen or heard from you since the yacht party. Are you deliberately trying to give me a heart attack?”
I dramatically roll my eyes even though he can’t see me down the phone. “Stop yelling, and don’t pretend to be worried about me. You didn’t give a toss before, so why start now?”
“Christ, Pearl, you have to have an answer for everything, don’t you?” he exclaims. “Have you forgotten our conversation from the other night?”
“No, I haven’t.” I draw in a breath and let it out, massaging the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger. “Seth, look, I don’t want to argue and I can’t talk right now.” Grams will be back at any moment and Eleanor left a while ago with the security guard to collect Sophia. I don’t want to be in this mood, or on the phone to Seth, when she comes back.
Seth swears down the line. “I’m outside. Can I come in?”
A spike of adrenaline shoots through me, making me bolt upright.
“You’re what?” Why the fuck is he in Hertfordshire?
“I got worried, alright? I drove down here this morning to make sure you were okay,” he drawls.
I stalk to the kitchen window and look out into the courtyard. And sure enough, Seth’s sleek Aston Martin is sitting in my driveway. His windows are tinted, so I can’t see that it’s him behind the wheel. But who else would it be? My heart palpitates just at the mere sight of him. “Then, turn around and drive back to where you came from. I don’t want you here.”
“Charming. You’re seriously not going to invite me in?”
“No,
Grams is going to be home soon,” I say, aware my voice is getting louder. “You need to leave.”
He breathes out a sigh. “I can’t do this over the phone.”
My heart leaps into my chest. “Do what?”
“Christ, Pearl, either you come out here or I’m coming in.”
I stare out the window at his monster of a car, phone at my ear, my body refusing to move. Seth being outside my house feels strange. The last time he was here, he was all mine and it was the last time I felt truly safe.
Maybe not happy, but definitely safe.
Just thinking about him as mine makes me feel like me again. Like there’s something to cling to amidst this whole fucking shit storm.
Seth surrounding me, his breath hot against the back of my neck, is all I need right now.
Seth, spooned in behind me, holding me tight like I might try to escape, grunts as I wiggle forward reaching for my phone.
I feel him shift and he tugs my body backward, arms locking me in.
Safe.
It’s like five years ago all over again. Half of me wants to cling on to it, the other half wants to block all the memories and numb all the pain. I don’t know what to do.
“Pearl?”
Blinking rapidly, I move away from the window. “Hold on, give me five minutes. Can you wait at the bottom of the drive?”
“Fine.” And he’s gone.
I take some time to drink a glass of water and fix my hair. Then, I write a note to Eleanor telling her I’ve popped out. I grab my leather jacket, slip on a pair of low-heeled cowboy boots, black ones to match my jeans and mood, and stalk out the door.
I use the time it takes to walk down my driveway to prepare what I’m going to say in my head. Just as I reach Seth’s car, Eleanor’s SUV pulls into the lane that connects to our driveway. Seth inches his car over so Eleanor can drive past him. There’s an empty, gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach the entire time this is happening.
Finally, Eleanor is able to drive past. She gives him a concerned look, until she sees me. I smile and wave at her, and then keep waving, blowing kisses as the rear blacked-out window passes me by. I’ve no idea if Sophia can see from the back seat, me sending my love to her, but it’s a chance I take.
Just act normal, Pearl.
As soon as the SUV disappears into the courtyard, I open Seth’s passenger door and slip into the seat beside him. I’m quivery and twitchy as the smell of leather and polish, as well as the scent of Seth himself, tickles my nose.
Seth, as panty dropping hot as ever in a tight, white t-shirt and distressed black jeans, frowns at me as I slam the door.
“What?” I stare at him.
“Nothing, just be careful. You and car doors don’t necessarily have the best reputation.”
I clear my throat, bunch my hands in my lap, and breathe slower. “Please tell me you didn’t come all the way here to tell me that.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “No. It’s Marcel. He’s back in France for Constance’s birthday gathering. Since I’m attending, he’s told me to bring you along.”
I swallow against a dry mouth. “When?”
“Right now,” he says, frown deepening.
I give him an incredulous look. “Are you insane? I can’t just up and leave.”
“Exactly, I think this is a mistake. What’s you meeting him going to achieve? You being there will only complicate matters.”
I rub at my temple. I’m beginning to get a headache. “If I don’t come, how are you going to stop him?”
Devastatingly gorgeous blue eyes lock onto mine as he takes me in. “Gather more evidence on him. I’ve not had a chance to search his home yet. This will be there perfect time. Everyone will be at the estate, so every room will be unguarded and unlocked. Also, around this time is the annual family hunt from his lodge, I can use the opportunity to look around his office there. As soon as I have any usable evidence, I’m going to the police.”
“What makes you think you’ll find enough evidence this time?”
“The last time I went to his estate, I wasn’t looking for evidence. If I don’t find any, I’ll keep digging. He’s bound to slip up sooner or later. You don’t need to put yourself at risk. Stay here and I’ll send someone to watch over you.”
I consider his words. Why am I shying away now? Because someone is trying to kill me and almost bloody succeeded! I’m tempted to tell Seth about my brush with death and about the strange girl who was responsible, but I hold back. I’ve no idea who she is, and Seth might think I’m going crazy. That I imagined her and slipped or something. Even now, I wonder if I actually did see someone or not.
But.
Bringing down Marcel is as much my fight as it is Seth’s. It wasn’t just his mother who was killed. My father was too. I’d be ashamed to call myself a Darlington if I hid behind a man on this one. Let’s not forget that Marcel wants me to come along. I hate to think what he’ll do if I just ignore his invitation.
I exhale and shake my head. “No, I should be there. I want to be there. I just need to go and pack first. Where shall I meet you?”
Seth cocks a brow. “The Harbridge Arms?”
He means the pub he took me to on our first sort of date, where I wore his sweater and we played his stupid drinking game. How naive was I back then? “That dump still has a license?” Posh wankers from Ravenwood probably pay good money to keep it open.
An oh so slight tug to the corner of his lips. “Hey now, don’t call where we had our first kiss a dump.”
“We didn’t have our first kiss there,” I say, my eyes flicking to those luscious lips in question. “It was in your car.”
He smirks openly this time. “Actually, our first kiss was in my bed.”
I furrow my brow, giving him a strange look. “When? In Coldhart house?”
“You don’t remember?” He actually looks so smug as he says it. “You asked me to kiss you.”
My face flames. “You’re a sneaky toad, Seth Montford, taking advantage like that.”
He shrugs. “It’s all in the video.”
“How convenient. The video I never watched.” I deleted it as soon as he sent me the copies I asked for. I was so embarrassed at the time that he’d filmed me doing shameful things on his bed just for a dare. StepAsshole.
He chuckles. “Maybe I’ll show you sometime.”
I glare at him. “What the hell! You said you’d deleted it!”
“You asked me to give you every last copy. I didn’t say I wouldn’t keep the original.”
“You sneaky little shit.”
I’m positively fuming as I climb out of his car and storm back to the house, but I’m also majorly turned on. I actually want to see the video now. That’s bad, isn’t it? That I’m not madder at him for keeping it.
Fuck. Why am I so weak when it comes to Seth?
Chapter 15
Pearl
When I open my eyes, we're landing on a private air strip in the south east of France. Seth isn't flying this time, so he’s seated on a lounge chair next to me. I catch him for a moment asleep, looking devil-may-care in his languid pose. His head is resting against the back of the chair and his hand is on the arm rest. He suddenly opens an eye. “What are you looking at?”
I glare at him, using anger to cover up the mounting anxiety in my gut. “You were drooling in your sleep.”
His mouth curls up into a smirk. “Were you checking me out Darlington?”
“No, fuck off.”
His smirk deepens and he yawns. “Are you always this much of a bitch to the person trying to help you?”
“Oh, piss off,” I say.
Again, not so original and not so cool, Pearl.
However, Seth won’t stop harping on about how much he’s helping me. He’s not. I’m helping him with his stalled investigation. He just doesn’t see it that way. Typical bloke. Thinks he’s God’s gift.
Most of the drive to the airport and the flight over, Seth and I discuss
ed at length our plan to get Marcel to spill the beans, as it were. Our plan. Why do I get butterflies just thinking about that?
Not just butterflies, but my legs are also restless. I’ve paced up and down the cabin a few times and had one too many coffees. I can do this, right? It’s just talking. And I’m prepared. In my luggage I have Levi’s surveillance equipment and his mini handgun. The beauty of flying in your own private jet is that you can pack whatever the hell you like and no one asks questions.
I glance over at Seth in time to see his lips twitch as he yawns a second time, stretching over head. I stifle the yawn in my own throat, unable to do much more than watch his t-shirt ride up giving me a peek of his abs. Not for the first time, do I wish that I’d let him have his wicked way with me a multitude of times already.
No, Pearl. You already went down that road, remember?
Seth is off limits.
The drive to the Montford family chateau is uneventful and the car is one of those old-fashioned vintage models that doesn’t have fucking air con. I’m sweating so hard in the back seat, that every time I re-cross my legs my skin sticks to the hard leather. And literally, every time we fly around a corner I’m thrown into Seth’s solid form, since we're sitting so close, that I spend the next minute or so extracting myself from him.
He glances my way with those gorgeous blue but ever-unreadable eyes. “If you keep throwing yourself at me, princess, I might get the wrong idea.”
I flit my eyes to him, and groan inwardly. “Just keep your hands to yourself, Romeo. This is strictly business.”
“Don’t I fucking wish it was,” he mutters.
I don’t get to ask him what he means by that because the chateau looms as we turn onto a long drive. Lime trees line the length of it offering shade and there’s a smell of citrus through the open window. Almost as soon as we pull up, the house staff are outside the vehicle opening our doors.
“Seth, darling. You made it.” An older woman appears at the top of the stone steps that lead to the entrance to the huge estate. She isn’t smiling as she glides down the steps in a chiffon summer dress to hug my stepbrother.