Page 77 of King of Deception

And all my fears evaporate as an older woman leaves Triston’s side and greets me with a wide smile. “You must be Arabella.”

“Your Grace,” I let go of Gris’s hand to curtsy. “I’m so honored to meet you.”

She waves away my formality and pulls me into a warm hug. “And I’m thrilled to meet you.”

I hug her back.

It’s then that I catch Mrs. Wingate out of the corner of my eye. I knew that Preston was still staying at the hotel.

She stares at us, her jaw locked, her gaze full of vitriol. I thought she’d be happy that I wasn’t marrying Preston. That I’d given back the ring.

Then again, I’m joining the family she most wanted an association with. And I, gangster’s daughter that I am, will officially become a lady when I marry Gris.

Lady Griswold.

I don’t care about that part at all, but I know she does. Turning back, I smile at my soon to be mother-in-law.

“Now tell me,” she says as she gives me another squeeze. “What are we thinking about for the wedding?”

Gris steps up next to me. “Would you permit us to marry on the estate, mother? I’ve been telling Arabella how beautiful White Cliffs is.”

The duchess’s eyes light up. “Oh, that would be so wonderful. And, of course, you must all come stay.”

“It will hold all of us?” Mason asks, his arm around Charlotte.

“Of course. It’s been in the dukedom for eight generations. The house can hold the entirety of the nobility should it be necessary.”

“How many bedrooms do you think the estate has?” Triston asks his mother, looking genuinely curious. “I never paid attention.”

The duchess waves a dismissive hand. “Too many to count,” she answers, looping her arm through Triston’s.

I see my brother Mason’s eyes spark and I roll mine. Mason is forever dreaming bigger. I think I might know what his next investment will be…

EPILOGUE

Killian

“For fuck’s sake,Kill, it isn’t nice to play with your food.” My brother Gris growls into the phone.

I don’t answer. That’s the thing about being in a dark alley, spying on a secret meeting. Talking isn’t really an option.

So I don’t.

Though, to be fair, I might not have answered anyway. I’m a do-what-I-want kind of guy.

“Are you going to eliminate this problem or not?” he rumbles. “I’ll do it myself if you’re not up to the task.”

He’s baiting me. That’s brotherly love for you. We both know of the two of us, I’m the killer. Not him. It’s in my fucking name for fuck’s sake.

That’s when I hear his fiancé, Arabella, give a sleepy call. “Is everything all right, Gris?”

“It’s fine, baby.” My brother sounds like a fucking twat, the way his voice takes on this coddling tone when he talks to her. “Are you cold? I’ll be right there to warm you up.”

“Jesus,” I whisper, rolling my eyes in the dark.

“Are you judging me, you crazy fuck?” I hear a door open and close on the other end of the line, he’s clearly moving to another room. “You’re supposed to get rid of Preston Wingate. Stop fucking around and get it done.”

I hang up.

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