Page 81 of Vow of Revenge
Feelings were a conclusion of the exact moment lived. I’d been caught up in that moment, believing my state of mind was the truth. Now I was far removed from any sort of pleasurable emotions. Joy, happiness or even love was no longer permitted.
Since I knew all about his murderous father, an odd recollection of something my mother spoke about had returned. I recalled her stories of a young boy who went to boarding school. A boy whose father had no time for him. There was no way that could’ve been Kaleb.
Email: Freya Harte Beaumont
Heading: Get lost
Need I say more?
Your father was a bastard.
You are your father’s son.
Freya Harte Beaumont,
Daughter of, Ana Harte, deceased.
My hands shook when the email whooshed into the ether. Now he will know that I am not a tame little mouse, cowering after the chase. I am a strong woman who will win this war by staying the hell away from him.
I grabbed my scarf and leather gloves, snatched my purse and bolted out the door. Exiting the lift, I entered the serene lobby of the Hotel Fitz. I instantly recognised the exceptionally handsome male who escorted a suited man towards the door.
“Jamie!” I called.
Back in the day we frequented the same social circles as young teens, unaware of life’s cruel plan. Syrah had the hots for, Jamie McGrath, and I was drawn to his broody elder brother, Marcus. Unfortunately, we were only classified as friend material, given Calvin’s clout and dating restrictions. They respected Calvin Beaumont in business and therefore we were off limits.
Jamie spun around, hearing my voice like a blast from his playful past. “Freya? You’ve got bleached blonde hair. When the hell did that happen?” His strong muscular arm wrapped my small frame. “You’re still stunning.”
“And you’re still a charmer.” I giggled into his chest.
“Freya… I’m so sorry about, Syrah. She was an amazing girl.”
“Thanks, Jamie. She was.” I swallowed down the lump swelling in my throat. “How are you?”
That killer dimple of his slowly dented his cheek, the same dimple that Syrah used to swoon over at every party. “I got married a few months ago, and we’re expecting a kid in a couple of weeks. Would you believe it?”
I laughed softly. “No way, Jamie McGrath actually tied the knot? And a kid? You finally committed to just one girl? She must be special.”
Pride brightened his handsome face. “She’s the one. I just knew it from the minute I set eyes on her. Anyway, I need to show this guy to the door. Tom, this is my friend, Freya Beaumont.” He nodded towards the short burly man, squeezed into a designer suit.
Tom was an attractive man, with sage green eyes and a pearly white grin. He held out his hand. “Pleasure to meet ya, honey,” he said with a broad Belfast twang.
“Like wise.” I shook his hand with a firm grasp. Men will never get the better of me.
Jamie looked back at me. “Does Cal like vintage cars?”
My shoulders lifted. “What man doesn’t?”
“There’s a classic car auction at Hanley Hall.” The rhythm of my heartbeat changed to an erratic marching tempo. “I’m not sure if, Cal, knows, Kaleb De Courcy, but he’s selling his father’s classic car collection. The entire world has eyes on this sale.” Jamie flicked out his phone and looked down at the screen. “Anyway, tell Cal there are some stunning rare cars in the collection. We have to go, Tom.”
Tom stepped closer. “You okay, honey? You’re as white as a sheet?”
“Uh… I’m fine, thanks. I’ll tell Cal about the auction. He might be interested in buying one.”
“It’s invitation only. Tom has his ear to the ground and can get tickets if he wants one. He’ll need to get his wallet out if he wants one.”
“I’ll let him know. Thanks, Jamie. It was great to see you again. I’d love to meet your wife sometime.”
“Sure thing. You’ll love her.”
