This is a bad idea. Every bone in my body vibrates with that knowledge, yet I still can’t say no to the woman I love. The chances are, Avery’s father is already dead. Fuck knows what type of blood bath we’re going to find in there, but at least then, she can rest in the knowledge we can do no more. I indicate off the dual carriageway to the slipway leading to her father’s place.
The house he bought for him and Tessa sits at the end of Oakwood Lane, a private road that winds through mature trees and well-maintained hedgerows. Unlike the Beckett estate, with its decades of history and hundreds of acres, this is new money—comfortable, but trying too hard. The properties here are substantial executive homes that scream ‘jumped up accountant’ without the subtlety of old wealth.
The house stands apart from its neighbours, separated by a small copse of pine trees that provide the privacy they clearly paid a premium for. The house isn’t visible from the road, requiring visitors to navigate a curving gravel driveway. Stone pillars mark the entrance, with a wrought-iron gate that stands open. The house itself is three storeys of red brick with white trim, dormer windows in the attic space, and a circular driveway with a water feature at its centre. Christmas lights outline the roofline and windows. Everything looks normal, picture-perfect even.
Too perfect?
I slow the SUV, scanning for any sign of movement, any hint of disturbance, but there’s nothing. Just a quiet, affluent home waiting for Christmas dinner to be served.
‘Wait in the car,’ I say, knowing that hell will freeze over first, but needing to try anyway.
The glare Avery gives me confirms it. She’s getting out of this vehicle whether I like it or not. I reach over and grip her hand. ‘It’s probably not going to be pretty, sweetheart.’
‘I know.’ The column of her throat bobs. ‘But I need to see.’
‘Stay behind me. Do exactly as I say. Understood?’
She nods, her face pale but determined.
I check my weapon once more and step out into the deceptive calm of Oakwood Lane, every sense heightened, every instinct screaming that we’re walking straight into a trap.
Before I can reach the doorstep, the front door swings open with suspicious timing. Sebastian, Avery’s stepbrother, stands in the doorway, his smile wide but forced, in fitting with his profile. The man is highly intelligent by all accounts, but utterly lacking in social skills. His GP suggested a referral to investigate depression as a child, but Tessa blocked it.
‘What a lovely surprise, Avery.’ His eyes flick briefly to me before returning to her as he runs a hand over the front of the black cashmere sweater that sculpts his lithe, athletic frame. ‘Are you feeling better? Your father was quite concerned about your fever.’
Avery and I exchange a glance of confusion. Something’s off. Every cell of my body is screaming at me.
‘Where’s Dad?’ she demands, her fists clench around her father’s signet ring.
‘Right here,’ Sebastian replies, then steps closer and winks. ‘Be warned. He’s already started on the brandy.’
Is the ring a copy?
Did the stalker want us to come here?
I glance around the street. Again—we’re too exposed. I don’t like it one fucking bit.
‘Come on in.’ He opens the door wider and I glimpse Avery’s father, who is indeed clutching a tumbler with something that could pass for brandy and looking slightly unsteady on his feet. But he’s alive. And his face lights like a beacon when he sees his daughter on his doorstep. ‘Dad! Look who dropped by. And she brought a…’ His eyes narrow as they shift to me again. ‘Friend.’
My fingers hover near my concealed weapon as footsteps approach. Every nerve ending is firing warning signals, but we’re caught between a rock and a hard place.
Fergus Williams appears behind his stepson, looking perfectly healthy and utterly delighted. No signs of distress. No indication of coercion. Nothing to justify the alarm bells clanging in my head.
‘Avery!’ His voice exudes genuine pleasure. ‘What a wonderful surprise! How are you feeling? Come in,’ he insists, stepping back. ‘Tessa will be thrilled to see you. Please introduce your friend.’
‘Boyfriend.’ I reach out to take Fergus’s hand and shake it firmly. This man is going to be my father-in-law after all, regardless of whether I think he’s a watery cunt or not. What kind of a man leaves his wife and child for his PA? It’s so cliché.
‘Pleased to meet you,’ he says, but his tone is cautious.
‘We’re not staying. We just dropped by to…’ Avery looks at me, hesitant but relieved.
‘Nonsense,’ Sebastian insists, beckoning us in like we’re old friends.
To refuse now would seem bizarre, suspicious. And I need to get in out of the open until I get an update from Sterling. Hopefully he’s locked the stalker down. Protocol One involves locking down the entire house. If the stalker is inside, the only way he’s getting out is in a body bag.
At least here she’s with family. Her father might be devoid of morals when it comes to his marriage, but he won’t hurt her. And Sebastian’s strange but his background check came back cleaner than a sterile operating room. With hobbies like ‘metal detecting’ on his elaborately detailed CV, the only risk he possesses to us is death by boredom.
‘Five minutes,’ I concede, my voice low. ‘We’re just making a pitstop on the way to my parents.’ I lie.
After we cross the threshold, Sebastian closes the door behind us with a click. We follow Fergus through the tiled entrance hall, past a towering Christmas tree festooned with matching silver and gold ornaments. Tessa Williams sits perched on a cream leather armchair in the family sitting room, her posture rigid despite the casual setting. She’s an attractive brunette, with sharp-angled cheekbones and expensive highlights. Her smile seems slightly forced as she raises her crystal tumbler in greeting.
‘What a wonderful surprise,’ she says, though her tone lacks genuine warmth. No wonder Avery didn’t want to come here. Her father might have a romantic notion about them all being one big happy family, but one look at Tessa tells me she doesn’t share the same dream. Her heavily lined eyes flick between Avery and me curiously, but she doesn’t attempt to get up to greet us.
Family photos line the mantelpiece, Sebastian featuring prominently, Avery notably absent except for one token graduation picture.
‘Please, sit, sit.’ Fergus gestures enthusiastically to the sofa. ‘We were just having a toast. Join us!’
He retrieves an ornate crystal decanter from a side table and moves to pour drinks. I notice Sebastian watching him with unusual intensity.
‘None for me, thanks.’ I remain standing, positioning myself where I can see both exits. ‘We can’t stay long.’
‘Nonsense!’ Fergus insists, already filling a tumbler. ‘One drink. It’s Christmas Day. It’s practically the law. And it’s not every day I get to meet my daughter’s boyfriend.’
Sebastian’s silver eyes narrow as Fergus pushes the glass toward me with surprising force. ‘This is quality stuff. Twenty-five years old.’
Quality stuff is what my family’s distillery produces. This is horse piss in comparison, but I accept it reluctantly. With the amount of adrenaline pumping through my blood, I’ll have burnt it off in seconds anyway.
Avery perches beside me, her body tense. She accepts the glass she’s offered, taking a deep drink. She winces as it hits the back of her throat.
Under Fergus’s persistent gaze, I relent and take the drink, figuring it might steady the slight tremor in my hand.
‘To family,’ Sebastian raises his glass but doesn’t drink—a detail that registers but doesn’t fully process as I take a cautious sip. Horse piss, as suspected, but I’m not going to get a better offer in here.
The next few minutes pass in stilted conversation. Where did we meet? The weather. Sebastian’s smile never wavers, but something about his eyes—the way they fixate on Avery makes my skin crawl.
‘Where’s Yvonne?’ Avery asks Sebastian.
‘We parted ways a long time ago,’ Sebastian says. Something registers then. His address is her address. If they parted ways a long time ago, why are all of his accounts, revenue details, and even his car still registered to her house?
I notice Tessa’s eyes growing increasingly unfocused, her speech slightly slurred. Fergus too seems unsteady, leaning heavily against the fireplace. Neither has refilled their drinks, yet both appear increasingly intoxicated.
When Fergus offers a refill, I accept mostly to study his movements. Sebastian hovers nearby, watching with an intensity that doesn’t match his casual stance. For a man that was overly welcoming at the door, he’s oddly silent throughout the entire exchange.
Tessa slumps back on the couch. Her eyes are open, but there’s definitely nobody home. Shit, what time did they start on the hard stuff?
‘Where’s your ring, Dad?’ Avery’s eyes drift to her father’s hand as he puts down the decanter.
Fergus glances at Sebastian with what looks like pride. ‘I passed it on. A Christmas gift. It was time.’ His voice is slurred, his legs are wobbling beneath him. He tries to steady himself by gripping the mantlepiece–unsuccessfully. In slow motion, he slithers to the floor in a heap.
Realisation strikes like a bolt of lightning. I try to jolt forwards but for some reason I can’t.
Sterling’s voice suddenly crackles through my earpiece at the exact same second it occurs to me that Sebastian hasn’t touched a drop of his drink.
‘Boss, we’ve got an identity. Do you hear me?’
I don’t need him to say it. I know it better than my own name. And I walked straight into the unhinged mother-fucker’s lair.
I go to touch my earpiece, but my arm feels like a dead weight. My eyes land on Sebastian, a slow, cruel smile splits open his face.
‘It’s Avery’s stepbrother. I repeat, the stalker is Avery’s stepbrother, Sebastian Harrow. Do you receive—’
The weight of my limbs registers before Sterling can finish. My fingers tingle with sudden numbness. The glass feels impossibly heavy in my hand. It falls to the floor with a thud.
‘Boss?’
I turn to warn Avery, but my tongue feels thick, uncooperative. Across the room, Sebastian’s expression shifts, and he begins to clap, slowly.
Our eyes lock, and I see the depth of his insanity. He poisoned his own fucking parents to get what he truly believes is his.
Avery’s eyes flit between Sebastian and me.
As my vision begins to blur, Sebastian crouches beside me, his face close enough that I can smell his sickly cologne. He removes the earpiece from my ear, drops it on the floor, and stamps on it.
‘Plans change, but destiny doesn’t,’ he whispers, the same words from the note at the Luxor Lounge. ‘She was always meant to be with me.’
The horror of our current situation clicks into place as my muscles fail me completely. Every black lily. Every threat. Every step ahead of my security. It was him. And he wasn’t even on my radar.
He stands, prowling toward a now-slumping Avery with chilling prowess. She doesn’t–clearly can’t resist when he lifts her to her feet, supporting her weight as though he’s done this countless times before.
‘I’ve got you,’ he murmurs to her with disturbing tenderness. ‘It’s time to go home, where you belong.’
I fight against the paralytic with everything I have, but my body refuses to respond. It’s futile. The beast inside me roars, but I can’t even open my mouth. I can only watch, as he takes the woman I love from me. And there’s fuck all I can do about it.
He turns back, his eyes meeting mine with something like triumph.
‘I should pleasure her right here in front of you, and make you watch, like you made me watch.’ He pauses like he’s contemplating it.
I’m screaming, writhing, dying inside, but utterly paralysed.
‘But I have more respect for her than that. Her days of exposing herself in public are over. Every inch of her skin is purely for my pleasure now.’
The door closes behind them with a soft, final click.
