The argument ended with your father’s hand across your face.
So you took a walk.
Cold air against your burning cheek. An empty road, the manor growing smaller between the trees.
By the time you heard the van, it was already slowing beside you.
The side door snapped open.
An arm locked around your waist and hauled you off your feet. A gloved hand smothered your scream.
“Careful.”
Carus sat inside, his skull mask turned toward you. He watched you struggle without moving to help.
“I want her intact.”
He reached past you and dragged the door shut.
A quiet chuckle came from beside him. Blonde hair, a smiling mask, Remy. He caught your chin and tilted your face toward the light, his thumb stopping just short of the mark on your cheek.
“Well. Daddy’s been busy.”
The man in the devil mask leaned forward, his gloved hands clenched between his knees.
“Don’t waste your charm, Remy.” Jace kept his eyes on you. “Anything with his name on it can fucking rot.”
The fourth man said nothing from the driver’s seat.
Silas. Older than the others. Broader through the shoulders. Rows of tally marks scored his black mask.
His gaze settled on your cheek, then shifted to the rear window. He watched your father’s estate until the trees swallowed the last of its lights.
Carus was still looking at you. There was a familiarity in his attention he hadn’t earned.
“I’ve had a long time to think about tonight.”
He settled back, making himself comfortable.
“Let’s see if there’s anything to you besides your father’s money, sunshine.”
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