“And now?” he asked, dipping forward to clasp my lower lip between his teeth and give it a sharp tug he soothed quickly with the lash of his tongue.
“Now, I’m not just fighting for Brando and me.” I didn’t tell him I was fighting for him, for us.
Instead, I kissed him until there was no breathe left in my chest and my heart was pounding like an insistent knock at the door waiting for him to answer. When I pulled away, his face was flushed with heat and his eyes were all dark, all desire.
“If you don’t come back to me whole by tomorrow night, I’ll burn Bishop’s Landing to the ground and rip Caroline Constantine apart with my fucking teeth,” he swore, tugging a fistful of my hair as if to drive his point home.
“I don’t doubt it, you heathen.” I pressed another kiss to his lush mouth, wishing life was simpler and I could just go home with him then. Instead, I pushed the door wider and got out into the snow. “You take care of Bryant, I’ve got Caroline,” I promised. “I owe you a happily ever after, don’t I?”
The housekeeper answered my knock at the door, but she disappeared silently as soon as I entered the foyer and knocked the snow off my Prada boots. Even though it was well after dinnertime, I was surprised by how quiet the house was. Caroline had told me she’d expected her youngest son, Keaton home from Europe tonight.
Instead, silence seemed to echo through the cavernous entry hall. My socked feet were soundless against the marble foyer and then on the plush carpet as I walked under the twin staircases into the first sitting room then through the rooms after it in search of the matriarch. All the lights were on, a sign of wealth I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to, but Caroline was nowhere to be found.
Finally, just as I was about to give up at go to bed, I found her in the library at the back of the house. Flickering firelight caught my gaze from the hall and the twin doors swung smoothly in when I pushed through into the warm room.
She sat in a wing-backed chair before a fireplace enormous enough for me to stand in. Even though she must have heard me, she didn’t look away from the flames as I approached and for a moment, pure fear clamped its hands around my throat.
Did she know my secrets?
That I was a closest Constantine?
That Tiernan’s cum was dried on the inside of my thighs?
That I intended to take whatever Lane might have left for Brando and me for myself no matter what the cost?
It was only when I drew up behind the side table between the two chairs that I noticed what Caroline was twirling in one hand.
A red rose.
When my gaze snapped from the familiar bloom to hers, I found it seething with dark shadows and firelight.
“Bianca,” she said, my name like an incantation, the first line of a curse. “You’re home late. Out cavorting with the scum of Bishop’s Landing?”
“I told you, I wanted answers. I went to find them.” I was surprised and proud of how strong my voice sounded.
“Mmm, and what did you find on your wanderings?” she asked silkily as she brushed the rose over her mouth, back and forth like a pendulum. Despite everything, I found myself entranced by the movement. “A scarred Morelli perhaps?”
I didn’t say anything because I had the sense every word I uttered would lead me into a trap she’d laid out for me.
She stood abruptly then, so quickly I took a quick, stuttered step away from her. Before I could do anything more, she was in my space, taller than me in her high heels, her pretty face peeled back to reveal true viciousness.
“Bianca, I am going to make one thing very clear to you and it is the absolute last time I will do so, is that understood? After this, if you disobey me, you will not be welcome in this house…” She paused and I couldn’t see her eyes in the deep shadows because she was facing away from the fire at her back, but I could sense them digging into me, trying to unearth whatever I might be hiding from her. “You will not be welcome in Bishop’s Landing. You will not be seen in polite society in this country ever again. Is that understood?”
I didn’t want to nod, but her hand not holding the rose latched out to grip one of mine so fiercely, my skin burned.
“Is that understood?” she repeated placidly as she ground my bones together.
“Yes, Caroline.”
“Excellent. You will not see Tiernan Morelli again. Not ever. In fact, you will never fraternize with a member or associate of that filthy family again so long as you wish to be harbored under this roof. If I hear of you doing so, I will be incredibly displeased.”