At the bottom was a summary of previous articles, the Marchants having apparently lived rent-free in the press for a while.
My heart froze.
Three heirs to a fortune face an uncomfortable investigation. Following the death of their grandfather, Kane, Darcy, and Emilia Marchant are set to inherit his multi-million-pound business. But as further dark secrets are revealed…
I couldn’t click on the link to read more, even if I’d had signal for it to load. I couldn’t move. I hadn’t been Darcy Marchant in a very long time, but now the world knew that name.
How long until they found me?
Wait.
My knees gave out, and I sank to the polished floorboards.
Tyler had come for me. He’d worked out my secret.
I’d fled the warehouse on the night I’d heard that Convict’s girl was Emilia. The sister I’d never met. Now Tyler was driving straight back there to, what? Sell me out to her? The newspapers? Force me to handle a past so harmful I’d all but blocked it out?
My crush on the man had blinded me to what he wanted, and now, I had to get out of here. By whatever means possible, I had to escape.
Chapter 2
Tyler
A few minutes down the winding road that descended the ridge, I pulled over. My fucking heart wouldn’t stop pounding. I touched my forehead to the steering wheel, then sat and breathed until my blood pressure reduced and I could hear again.
Over the course of my career in taking down traffickers, I’d handled any amount of danger. I’d been shot. Slashed. Beaten so badly I couldn’t walk for weeks.
Nothing came close to how I felt about Dixie being in my home.
I didn’t want to leave her alone, but I had work to manage and information to gather. Which meant getting a handle on my personal crisis.
Today, I was all kinds of fucked up.
No one would be able to tell.
When at last I’d regained my control, I set out for the city. Quiet isolation gave way to small towns then the city limits. Industrial estates, the Gothic bridge over Deadwater River, the warehouse rising on the banks. A shock of pink neon in a gloomy night.
Seeing the red-brick building should’ve upped my anticipation for the work I needed to do. But tonight, I just wanted to leave as quickly as possible.
I parked up and entered through the back door, sparing a greeting for the crewmember manning the desk. Arran had called a management meeting, and alongside that, I needed to talk to my crew.
In the wide corridor that separated the Divide nightclub from the Divine strip club, I strode to the office, entering without a knock.
At the desk, Arran raised his head and regarded me, a black bandanna with a skull’s jaw printed on it tied around his neck. The trademark of our crew. “All good?”
Though he was technically my boss, Arran treated me as his older and wiser colleague. He’d never once pulled rank or given me a command he wasn’t sure I’d want to do.
And I’d never lied to him. Until now.
“Fine.”
I was far from that. Though I’d masked my frenzied state, I still felt it under my surface. The clawing need to get back to Dixie. To tear apart whoever hurt her.
A contradiction I recognised.
I’d abducted her and locked her up. There was no way she was getting out of my house. When I’d promised her safety, it was including from herself. There was a real danger I was behaving like a psychopath.
In my defence, I was a very well-intentioned one.
