She’d lied. Or someone had. I’d do anything to get him free. Nothing else mattered but him.
The door opened, Wallace entering again. Except it wasn’t a man with him.
Denise Harford stepped into the space.
In a glittering emerald green dress, as if she was on her way to a fundraiser, the businesswoman formed a smile for Primrose. It died when it came to me. “What is this?”
Primrose gazed at her, her head still like a snake about to strike. “You’ll recall my granddaughters.”
Denise turned, but Wallace remained at the door, keeping it closed and blocking the way out. For all I’d considered him soft and weak, he was a murderer.
We were all trapped in here together.
And I could not produce a single word.
Denise sneered. “Of course I remember them. I have an excellent memory. I am confused why you would allow them to infest your home, Primrose.”
Our grandmother said nothing, only waited.
Denise pointed a finger, her manicure elegant and expensive. “That one is dating a gangster. The older is a slut.”
Primrose’s lips formed a cold smile. “Is that so?”
“You know it is. She’s been that way for years.”
I stalled. At last, words came. Shaky, but there. “Run that by me again, hun?”
Denise turned her dead eyes on me. “You disgust me. I imagine it must be hard to understand, as your family came from nothing, what an insult it is to have to mix with you. Even to converse. I am a descendant of dukes. We have a lineage you could never understand. Castle Tien has long looked down?—”
“No, I meant the years part. You been keeping tabs on me?”
I wasn’t interested in her rant of how important she was. How old and rusted the family money might be. She’d just given away something I didn’t think she’d intended.
Denise closed her mouth.
I advanced a step. “You knew where I was, even after I changed my identity?”
She didn’t deny it. My anger rose.
“How? It surprises me, seeing as you ain’t so smart.”
I baited her. She had an ego I remembered from her discussions with Austin where she thought herself entitled because of her name.
It worked. She reddened. “Don’t you dare speak to me like that. I’ll tell you how I found you. Terrence wished to attend your seedy club. They refused him entry, and I went down to challenge them. I saw this woman parading around and had the strangest sense of familiarity. Not in your face, but in the way you moved and your mannerisms. Similar enough to your sister and your grandmother, and the girl I remembered. I learned then what you had become. A common gutter whore.”
“You learned how?” I pressed. “Because you can’t have been sure from seeing me on stage. I wear a lot of makeup and not many clothes. Unless my titties spelled out my name, your story doesn’t add up.”
“Are you calling me a liar?” The woman visibly bristled. “Very well. I see no reason to conceal this now. I meant to spare your grandfather any pain in accidentally encountering you, so I had an acquaintance investigate you.”
“Gotta give me more than that. No one here will believe you.”
“Presley Marchant-Smythe made the discovery. He saw your passport,” she crowed.
It was them. The break-in. The stalking. The knife. My mouth dried, the implication coming fast. After the disturbances at my home came a far worse crime. One Tyler had been sure was unsolved. “You had him slit my throat.”
Denise closed her mouth.
Primrose bristled. “Excuse me?”
