Devil's Riches: A Dark Captive Romance (Cruel Kingdom Book 2)

by Stella Hart

  “Didn’t you say you called your driver to take them where they wanted to go?”

  His expression wavered slightly. “No. I said I called a driver for them. As in, a driver for each girl,” he said. “I thought that was necessary, because they were headed to completely different places.”

  “Right.” Bullshit. I’d caught him in a lie, and he knew it, but he’d managed to cover it quickly enough to make himself look innocent.

  I blew out a deep breath and scratched my head. “So I’m guessing you haven’t heard from Alexis at all?”

  “No. Sorry.” Edward’s eyes suddenly lit up. “Actually, you know what? I think I might know where she is.”

  “Where?”

  “Last night you mentioned something about a friend of hers with a sick cat, didn’t you? I bet they finally got through to each other, and Alexis went over to her house to help her.”

  I gritted my teeth. “Hm. I guess that could be it,” I muttered, wishing I hadn’t made up such a specific lie last night. Edward had latched right onto it, and he was milking it for all it was worth.

  He patted my shoulder. “I’m sure she’s totally fine,” he said with a reassuring smile. “But if you can’t find her at that friend’s house, and she still hasn’t turned up by the end of the day, please come back and let me know. I’ll get in contact with the driver from last night and see what he says.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Paxton.”

  “When you catch her, make sure you say happy birthday for me. There’s still a cake here with her name on it,” he said. He glanced at his watch. “Anyway, sorry to cut this short, but I really must be going.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” I said, intent on following him wherever the fuck he went. There was no way he was headed to an appointment like the maid said earlier. He was headed to wherever he was keeping Alexis.

  He dipped his head in a nod. “Thank you.”

  “Actually, would you mind if I used your bathroom first?” I asked. I hadn’t taken a piss since last night because I didn’t want to take my eyes off the road for a second during my stakeout. Now my bladder felt like it was about to explode.

  “Of course. I’ll show you where it is.”

  He led me out of the sitting room and down a long wood-paneled hallway. A door at the end opened into a large guest bathroom with pristine white tiles.

  I looked in the mirror as I washed my hands a couple of minutes later. For a second, I didn’t recognize myself. I looked like hell—bloodshot eyes, dark circles under them, sallow skin. I felt worse than I looked, though. If I didn’t find Alexis, I had no idea what the fuck I’d do.

  I exited the bathroom to find the redheaded maid waiting for me in the hall. “Mr. Paxton had to leave,” she said with a polite smile. “I’ll see you out instead.”

  My eyes widened. “He’s gone?”

  “Yes. His appointment is quite urgent, so he couldn’t wait a second longer. I’m sorry, sir.”

  That slippery fucking snake. He must’ve suspected that I was onto him, and he didn’t want to take the risk of having me follow him around.

  I strode down the hallway, wondering if I could catch him on the road. He couldn’t have made it very far from the estate. After all, I’d only been in the bathroom for a few minutes.

  Then again, I had no idea which way he’d turned once he reached the end of the driveway. Did he go left to Arcadia Bay or right to Avalon City? Or somewhere else entirely?

  Fuck.

  As the maid led me back into the foyer, I caught a glimpse of an old portrait hanging on the wall—Edward and Deborah Paxton with their children. A light bulb seemed to switch on in my brain, and I turned to the maid. “Is Mrs. Paxton home?” I asked.

  Her husband might be a skeevy piece of shit, and she probably was too, but I figured there was a chance she’d talk to me once I dropped my last name. She might accidentally let some information slip during our conversation, and I might even be able to trick her into telling me where Edward was headed this morning.

  The maid nodded. “Yes, she’s here. Why?”

  “Would I be able to see her?” I asked. “It’s her granddaughter’s birthday today, and I’m stuck on gift ideas, so I was hoping we could talk about that.”

  The maid’s face fell. “I’m sorry, sir. She’s far too ill to have any visitors, and the painkillers make her sleep most of the time, anyway.”

  My brows furrowed. “Painkillers? I thought she just had a cold.”

  “A cold?” The maid’s eyes widened. “No, it’s much more serious than that.”

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  She glanced around to make sure none of the other staff members were within earshot. Then she took a step closer. “It’s a liver problem,” she said in a hushed voice. “It’s so sad. One minute she was fine, and the next she was bedridden.”

  “Shit. I had no idea.”

  The maid nodded. “It all happened very fast, so not many people have been made aware of the situation.” She paused to let out a sigh. “Poor Mr. Paxton. He’s been beside himself with worry. I think last night’s birthday party was good for him, though. He seems a lot perkier today.”

  “Maybe Deborah’s condition is improving.”

  She shook her head again, lips pressed into a grimace. “Oh, no, I doubt that. It’s very serious,” she said. “We just have to cross our fingers and hope she moves up the transplant list as fast as possible.”

  My brows shot up. “She needs a transplant?”

  “Yes.” The maid lowered her voice again. “Isn’t it just awful when this stuff happens? You want your loved one to get their new organ, but at the same time you know someone else has to die for that to happen.”

  As her words sank in, a heavy feeling settled in my stomach, and the hairs rose on the back of my neck. Wickedness seemed to be leeching from the center of the mansion, spreading out until it curled around me in cold, invisible tendrils.

  “Thanks for your help,” I said hurriedly. “I need to go now.”

  The maid smiled. “Of course, sir.”

  She led me to the front door. Once I was outside, I sprinted back to my car and tore down the road as fast as I could.

  I knew exactly where I needed to go.

  20

  Alexis

  I lay on my back, staring up at the white ceiling. My limbs felt limp and numb, and there was a sour taste in my mouth.

  The surgery that would kill me wasn’t far off. There was no clock in my hospital room, but I hadn’t slept since my grandfather left earlier, and I knew several hours must’ve passed by now. The time had seemed to simultaneously stretch endlessly and go by in the blink of an eye.

  There was nothing to do in this room but think. Think, think, think, and then think some more.

  Firstly, I’d thought about my life leading up to this point. Everything I’d done to wind up in this position. Every choice I made. Every mistake. How naïve I’d been. How disappointed my father would be in me if he were still here.

  Then the anger started. At him, at myself.

  What the hell was he thinking ten years ago when he decided to investigate the Golden Circle? He knew it was risky. He knew they could be dangerous. But he went ahead and did it anyway, knowing full well that his life would be on the line if he got caught.

  Did he not think his life was important? And what about us—his family? Did it not occur to him that we’d be left behind if he died? That our lives would crumble without him? That we’d be broken forever?

  And what about his letter to me? The one where he covertly asked me to unravel his case and avenge him after he was gone. Did he really think it was a good idea to put me in that position? Was he that desperate, or did he just believe in me that strongly?

  As for myself… why did I try to be brave and do this on my own? Bravery was overrated. People always lauded others for showing courage and standing up to scary things, but most of the time doing that would only get a person killed.

  I was a
perfect example of that.

  After a while, my fiery anger faded into lethargic depression, and all I could think about was everyone I knew and loved. I should’ve spent most of my time thinking of Mom and Sascha, or my friends, but ninety-nine percent of my thoughts were occupied by Nate instead.

  Oh, Nate…

  I knew how I felt about him now. Knew it with all my heart. But it was too late. I’d never get a chance to tell him, and he’d never know. He’d never even guess.

  He’d spend the rest of his life wondering what happened to me after he lost me, never having a clue that I’d fallen in love with him. That I’d spent my final moments thinking of him.

  I wished with all my heart that I could travel back in time to that moment in the car when he asked me if I could ever forgive him. I wished I could take his hand, look him in the eye, and say yes. Tell him I understood everything. Tell him I felt it too— that all-consuming need for revenge. It was the driving force behind my investigation into what happened to my father, and it allowed me to find the strength and courage to go on, even when I knew how dangerous it could get.

  Nate grew up feeling the same way. He blamed my father for what happened to his father and Emilie, and then he blamed me for bringing all that grief and pain back a decade later when Nessa and Claire were murdered. He wanted revenge for it all because he knew that sometimes someone else’s pain and suffering was the only thing that could make your own feel better.

  He didn’t know I was innocent, and he had genuine reasons for thinking I’d killed people. He was wrong about me in the end… but I was wrong about him too.

  He wasn’t the cruel, heartless monster I used to think he was. He had a heart. A big warm one that beat tirelessly for those he loved. Including me. I saw that now. The way he’d taken care of me over the last few weeks, the way he touched me, and the way he looked at me… he loved me. He’d never actually told me, but the feelings were clearly still there. Feelings that I returned.

  Nate Lockwood wasn’t what I expected or wanted, but in the end, he was what I needed.

  I closed my eyes as a tear slipped down my cheek. I should’ve listened to that voice in my head the other night; the one that came from the heart and told me I’d fallen for him. Instead I chose to listen to the other voice; the one that came from a place of fear and anger.

  I wasn’t angry anymore. I wasn’t afraid, either. Not when it came to Nate.

  He hurt me terribly in the past, but I hurt him too, and now that we knew the truth about our world, neither of us had any intention of hurting each other ever again. We only wanted to help each other.

  I guess it didn’t matter anymore, though. Nate couldn’t help me now.

  Earlier, I’d wished and prayed for him to find me, but now I’d accepted reality. He wasn’t going to find me. How could he possibly figure out that my grandfather had taken me to harvest my organs for his dying wife?

  There was no way. Simply no way.

  The whooshing sound of the automatic door sliding open caught my attention, and I opened my eyes and looked up. A nurse in pale blue scrubs had entered the room. He came over to me, undid the cuffs around my wrists, and instructed me to go into the bathroom to empty my bladder.

  I did as he said on shaky legs, listlessly wheeling the IV stand by my side. There was no point arguing or fighting. The nurse was paid enough by my grandfather to turn a blind eye to my plight, so he wasn’t going to help me escape. He was twice my size, too, so even if I tried to run away from him, he’d catch me and have me cuffed on the bed again in a minute or less.

  After I finished in the bathroom, he led me back to the bed and ordered me to lie down. The door swished open again, and my grandfather stepped inside.

  “We’re nearly ready to go, Alexis,” he said, glancing at his silver wristwatch. He turned and murmured something to the nurse, who nodded and briskly headed over to a set of drawers on the other side of the room. Then he turned his attention back to me, thin lips stretching into a smirk. “I see your knight in shining armor didn’t come to save you.”

  “Fuck you,” I muttered, wishing I could rip the IV line out of my arm and choke him with it.

  The smirk curled into a cruel smile. “You understand now, don’t you?”

  “Understand what?”

  “That this is it. This is the end.”

  I slumped back against the pillow and closed my eyes. “Yes,” I said, voice coming out in a ragged whisper. “I understand.”

  21

  Nate

  When I reached the hospital at Blackthorne, I raced inside and pushed past a group of doctors gossiping over coffee in the massive front lobby. A trio of receptionists sat at a large desk on the left side of the room, concentrating on their computer screens.

  I went for the one on the far left. Young, blonde, pretty. The exact type of girl who’d fall for anything I said. According to the little silver badge affixed to her white shirt, her name was Clara.

  “Hi, Clara,” I said, approaching her side of the desk with a genial smile. “I need to see Dr. Paxton.”

  She looked me up and down. I could see a hint of attraction behind her coolly assessing gaze. “Sorry, sir. He’s unavailable at the moment.”

  “I have an appointment with him.”

  “That’s not possible, sir,” she said, raising a brow in a disbelieving expression. “Like I said, he’s unavailable.”

  She wasn’t going to be an easy nut to crack after all. I’d have to try another angle.

  I narrowed my eyes and leaned forward, placing my hands on the desk in front of her. “Do you know who I am, Clara?” I said.

  Her eyes narrowed to match mine. “No, sir. I don’t,” she replied in a frosty tone.

  I pulled my wallet out of my pocket and slapped my license down on the desk in front of her. “Maybe this’ll help you figure it out.”

  It was moments like this that my heritage came in handy. Everyone on Avalon Island recognized the Lockwood name and the power and influence it held.

  Clara’s eyes wavered slightly as she read my license, and she dropped the chilly attitude. “Sorry, sir. I didn’t know who you were,” she said hurriedly. “But Dr. Paxton still can’t see you. He’s overseeing a surgery this morning, so he’s going to be busy for several hours.”

  I let out a short snort of annoyance and waved at her computer. “Look me up,” I said. “I was in here a few weeks ago after some asshole stabbed me. Dr. Paxton took over my case as a favor to my family after I got out of surgery.”

  Clara’s fingers flew over the keyboard as I spoke.

  “He told me to come back in for a follow-up appointment,” I went on. “There should be something in there about that.”

  She nodded. “Oh, I see. He added a note to your file.”

  “My follow-up appointment is today. I arranged it with him in person at his party last night.”

  “His party?” she said, brows puckering.

  “It was his birthday yesterday. He had a party.”

  She clicked something on her computer and raised her brows. “Oh, you’re right, it was his birthday. But there must be some sort of mix-up,” she said, eyes flickering between me and the screen. “He’s definitely not available this morning.”

  I frowned. “He mentioned last night that he had a surgery this morning and something else this afternoon, so he told me to come in first thing before the surgery. It’s just a quick consultation for some scar reduction stuff. Shouldn’t take longer than fifteen minutes.”

  Clara bit her bottom lip as she thought about it. Then she nodded slowly. “He probably has a small window of time before the surgery starts. But you’ll need to hurry.”

  I breathed a silent sigh of relief. “Can you tell me where he is?”

  “In the secure wing.”

  “The what?”

  “It’s a closed-off wing of the hospital. It’s where the most high-profile people on the island go to get their treatments done so they don’t have to see or be
seen by anyone apart from the doctors,” she said, eyes flashing with a smidgen of resentment. “Do you need me to tell you how to get there?”

  “Yes.”

  She pointed somewhere over my shoulder. “Take the elevator to the top floor. When you get out, go straight to the end of the hall. Take a right there, and go to the end again. You’ll see a glass sliding door. It’s always locked, so unless you have the code or a keycard with clearance, you’ll have to wait for someone to let you in.”

  “How does that work?”

  “Press the green button on the wall near the door. That’ll set off a buzzer in the secure wing, and someone will let you in once they’ve ascertained that you belong there.”

  I nodded. “Right. Thanks.”

  Clara picked up the phone next to her computer. “I’ll call ahead and let them know you’re on your way up,” she said. “That way you won’t have to wait at the door.”

  I stiffened. “Don’t do that.”

  “Why not?” she asked, forehead wrinkling.

  I pulled out my cell phone and showed it to her. “I’ll just call Edward myself. It’ll save you the trouble,” I said. I leaned forward and lowered my voice. “I think I owe you after being such a prick earlier.”

  A ghost of a smile played on her lips. “Fair enough,” she said. “Have a nice day, Mr. Lockwood.”

  “You too, Clara.” I flashed her a winning smile before turning away and striding over to the other side of the lobby.

  My heart thudded painfully in my chest as I rode the elevator to the top floor. Alexis was trapped up there in the secure wing of the hospital. I could feel it in my bones. No doubt the surgery Edward planned to oversee this morning was hers—a surgery that would leave her dead so her grandmother could get a healthy young liver and live another decade or two.

  When I finally reached the top floor, I briskly headed down the long hallway, keeping my head down to avoid attracting anyone’s attention. At the end, I turned right and saw a wide glass door about twenty yards away.