“They?”I quirk my head to the side, but it isn’t Willa who answers.
“Robert Castro has been assassinated,” the Beast tells me, and my stomach plummets.
I try to keep out of the gang shit, but I know enough to understand the significance of this.Robert Castro is—was—the brother of Vincent Castro, the head of the Castro family, my father’s biggest rivals.
“Of all the lame fucking ideas, that’s got to be my father’s worst,” I say, looking back at the Beast.
“It wasn’t his order.He’s not to blame for Robert’s death.”The Beast eyes me cautiously.
The large grandfather clock in the corner of the room beats steadily as I gather my thoughts.
“Then why are we being targeted?”
“Because Devall is the obvious suspect.”
“Why?”
He glances at the floor, and my hackles rise.“I’m not a fucking child.I deserve to know what’s happening when my life is supposedly at stake because of this shit.”
“Some of Castro’s men have been killed.Tyrone Miller was shot six months ago, and before him, Morris Hamlin was beaten to death outside a club.The Castros have had us in their sights since then, and this has simply forced their hand.They have to blame someone, have to act; otherwise, they will appear to be weak,” the Beast explains, flexing his biceps whilst Willa tenses her jaw.
She knows he shouldn’t be telling me this stuff.But even though I loathe him, I do appreciate the fact that he seems to be the only one on my security team who doesn’t shield me from the reality of my father’s world.He keeps me up-to-date on the rumblings within the gang world.Maybe he’s just unprofessional, or maybe he knows that knowledge can be powerful.
“They mean business, Hayami,” Willa cuts in, but the Beast won’t be pushed aside that easily.
“They killed a bunch of people in one of your father’s clubs and then sent an email saying the Devalls will be next, specifically the heir.”The Beast crosses his arms as Willa rolls her eyes.
“And that’s why your father has sent us here,” she adds, shaking her head at him.
“And where exactlyishere?”I ask.
Willa sighs before she answers.“Belial House.”
All I can do is laugh.It’s manic, high-pitched, more of a shriek, but it’s the only way I can respond to this shitstorm that’s supposed to be my life.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”But by the look on Willa’s face, I know this is no joke.
I glance once more at the room—its vaulted ceiling, the enormous fireplace that houses crackling flames, and the oversized sofa I’m spread out on.
“So, this is the house of horrors?”I whistle through my teeth.“Well, fuck me.Things must be serious if my father has resorted to packing me off to this little hellhole.Or was this your idea?”
I look at the Beast, who glares from under his scowl, arms folded across his enormous chest like he’s still standing guard over me—though there isn’t a chance in hell anyone could get to me here.
He looks like the pillar of strength.Willa, on the other hand, fits the scene—her eyes wide, the whites ablaze like she’s staring down the headlights of an oncoming vehicle.
But the Beast?He isn’t afraid.
“Does he know about this place?”I tip my thumb at him.
“What’s there to know other than rumours?”Willa bites her bottom lip.It doesn’t suit her, this frightened rabbit look.
“She hasn’t told you?”It’s a question, even though Willa has just given me the answer.
My eyes lock with his, and I wonder what he’ll make of it all.Willa is scared shitless.So why aren’t I?I should be.Should be pulling the blanket up to my chin and asking the Hellhound to frighten the monsters away.Instead, I welcome something other than the shit show that is my life.
The Beast shakes his head.
“Well, why don’t we pull up a seat, campers, and stoke the fire, ’cause this shit’s about to get spooky.”I rub my hands together, assessing my audience of two.But my skills are wasted on them.Willa is too fucking scared, and the Beast is… well, he’s just the way he normally is—unaffected by everything and everyone, unless someone is trying to breathe near me.
