Page 76 of Shattered By Grace

Taylor tapped her fingers against her wine glass, deep in thought. “If your dad was tracking judges on Locke’s payroll, and now they’re all dead…” She let the thought hang between them.

Victoria swallowed hard. “Then that means Cassian Locke is having his clowns tie up loose ends.”

Ping!

Her phone vibrated against the table.

Her eyes went wide.

Oh. Fuck.

Taylor’s head snapped up. “What?”

Victoria didn’t answer. Her pulse pounded as she reached for her phone, stomach twisting with both dread and anticipation. She already knew who it was. Slowly, she flipped the screen over.

Tristan.

Her breath caught.

Taylor narrowed her eyes. “Oh. My. God. Is that who I think it is?”

Ignoring her, Victoria tapped the message open. The second her eyes skimmed the words, heat surged through her, hotter than the wine burning in her veins.

Tristan

Careful what you wish for, love. I don’t take kindly to being teased.

Desire curled low in her belly, spreading like wildfire.

“What did he say?” Taylor vibrated with excitement.

Victoria locked the screen and tossed the phone onto the table like it burned her. “Nothing.”

Taylor cackled. “Liar. That face says everything.”

Victoria swallowed, trying to steady herself. The judges were dead. Cassian didn’t keep loose ends. They were sitting on something dangerous.

And yet, all she could think about was Tristan.

She’d just thrown gasoline on a fire.

God help me—she wanted to burn.

Victoria

Do you see me running?

Chapter Thirty-Five

Victoria stared at the message on her screen, the weight of Tristan’s words sinking in like a stone in her chest.

Tristan

As much as I want to take you up on that offer, I’m currently busy.

Her fingers curled around her phone, debating whether to respond. But what was the point? She let out a breath, too tired to be angry, too frustrated to let it go. Instead, she dropped her phone onto the table with a soft thud and leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling.

Taylor, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside her, arched a brow. “That bad?”

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