Page 119 of Tangled Lies
“Got it,” Talon said, holding up a black bag in his hand as he pushed through the already questionable door.
“Got what?” Margaux asked.
Talon shook the bag.
“Wine, right?”
Margaux nodded.
“Right. Drinks. Will it help with their shock?” Margaux asked.
“Yup. It’s good for shock. Really settles the nerves,” Talon said.
“Gentleman, sit. Please. Oh and Uncle, where is my nanny? Wouldn’t you have invited her to the wedding?”
Her uncle glared daggers, but as Jett moved, he tried to mirror the movements.
“No. She’s done raising you, and will go back to being my housekeeper. There is no reason for her to see you off with your new husband. Although now I realize he wasn’t capable of getting you in line.”
Thorne Sr. took the chance to move since I was still by my father, and he got a few steps closer to his son.
“This is outrageous. Do you have any idea how much money I’ve agreed to just to keep the Barones off my back? You’re getting twenty percent of all the event sales for the first two years.”
“Great, anything else you feel like volunteering, Old Man Thorne?” Talon asked, handing over a glass of wine.
The man took it.
Now her uncle.
“I’d love to say it’s nice to meet you, but it’s really not. Here, drink this.”
Talon shoved the other glass at Harrington.
“Bottoms up, sweet cheeks,” Jett said, taking his gun and pushing Harrington’s cup up closer to his mouth.
“Oh and, Carrow. Here you go. A toast to your lost bride.” Talon walked over and pulled out the towel from his mouth.
“I don’t want wine, you fucker. Fuck, if you want her pussy so bad, just negotiate with us. We’re not stupid. Business is business.”
Knox knelt down next to Carrow, grabbing his chin and yanking his face up.
“There is no negotiating. You lost that chance. And her pussy? Well, she was never yours to begin with.”
Knox grabbed the wine and poured it down Carrow’s throat.
“I suggest you drink now,” I said.
Harrington still fought it, but Thorne Sr. sighed and brought the glass to his lips and paused.
“What is it? Will it just knock us out?” he asked.
Talon lifted the bottle in the air as if he were giving a toast.
“Maybe. If you’re a horse. But considering your body weight, although a little heavier than it should be, is less than that of a horse, I’m pretty sure this counts as an OD. Sleep tight, sweetheart.”
Carrow’s eyes bulged as it all hit him.
“One down, three to go,” I said and turned back to the two left standing. My father was down for now.
