Page 102 of A Deal with her Forbidden Duke
“Are you sure?” Donald laughed, a terrible sound of sheer arrogance and self-satisfaction. “See, when one is a dead man, and no longer has an estate or anybody to care to keep searching, one can find out a great deal of things.”
His eyes bore into Alexander, sardonic and pleased. “I know the real owner of this establishment. One Duke of Silverton, I believe.”
Alexander flinched, opening his mouth to say it was not him—to deny the very empire he was proud of but could not openly admit to having.
“And do not try to deny it,” Donald warned him. “With so much free time, I have found myself available to look into my wife’snew husband. I have learned about how your poor, dear mother died.So very tragic.”
His sarcasm laced the condolences, and Alexander gritted his teeth, taking another step towards the supposed dead man.
“Do not speak of my mother,” he growled. “And Madeleine is not your wife. Surely you could not forget such a thing when you left her for nights on end in a cold, lonely manor during your marriage. Surely you could not forget such a thing when you feigned your own death. She is not your wife. She ismine.”
Donald snorted. “Madeleine would be anybody’s who gave her attention, I imagine.”
Alexander stormed ahead, grabbing the front of Donald’s jacket, seeing utter red at the offense against his wife.
“Keep her name out of your mouth.”
His fist raised, and he no longer cared if he went against his own beliefs of not being a thug. For Madeleine, he would fight. He would do anything—just like he had for justice of his mother.
Donald only stared coolly back at him. “You may fight me off, Your Grace, but you cannot fight the entire underworld that would simply love to take a swipe atyourprecious wife. I imagine you being involved in the underworld and such an establishment like the Raven’s Den leaves her vulnerable to…well, anybody. Surely you know this well, or was your mother’s dead body not a reminder enough?”
Alexander’s blood turned cold.
For a moment, he could see the sticky red blood pouring over his hands as he held his mother’s broken, dying body.
For another moment, in his mind’s eye, her face morphed into Madeleine’s. Pain tightened her face, and stab wounds stole the breath from her lungs, and she wept for him, to him, begging for it to stop?—
“No,” Alexander growled. “Madeleinewillbe safe.”
“She will,” Donald agreed. “If you abide by one little deal with me.”
“What deal?”
“I will not let it slip that you are the true owner of the Raven’s Den if you provide something for me. Let me claim my wife back quietly and live a life under the radar. You will keep my secret, and I shall keep yours.”
Fury rose up in Alexander, hot and impossible to ignore for a moment but Donald held up a hand.
“Before you land that blow, Your Grace,” he said, breathless, and Alexander realized he was starting to become worried, his earlier arrogance slipping slightly.
“I will remind you that many men in the underworld have little to lose. They do not know why several highly placed members of businesses left six years ago without a warning. They were employers, and those who were employed are angry, seeking vengeance. I am holding them off with promises of your cooperation, Silverton. Decide carefully.”
His concession was slow. It was indeed a careful decision. Finger by finger, he released Donald’s jacket. With one painful movement of defeat and a clenched jaw, he stepped back. The risk was real. Donald’s threats were very, very real.
He could not give up Madeleine but what other choice did he have?
She deserved a beautiful, safe life.
He blinked, and Alexander saw his mother again. He flinched.
Do not be a coward, he heard his fifteen-year-old self scream, shaking his father.She is dead! She is dead and it is because of you!
Alexander’s eyes widened as he lost himself in the memory temporarily.
If he denied Donald’s threats, pretended they were not a painful thing to give into, would he one day have a child who would blame him if Madeleine ever was harmed due to his ownership of the Raven’s Den?
The thought punched him in the chest, needling into his heart.
“You understand me, do you not, Your Grace?” Donald asked, knowing he had won. “You cannot repeat your father’s mistakes, but that is something you already know.”
