Read More

Chapter 439

Chapter 439:

Skye closed her eyes. “Beatrice was behind it. The kidnapping. I heard them say ‘The Matriarch p>

Alistair’s arm tightened around her. “Then Beatrice falls next p>

A stewardess appeared silently, placing a pot of chamomile tea on the table before vanishing again. Alistair poured a cup, adding a spoonful of honey.

“Drink,” he coaxed. “You need to sleep p>

Skye took the cup. The warmth spread through her chest. She looked at Alistair.

“Why?” she asked. “Why did you drop the gun? You could have taken the shot p>

Alistair looked at her, his expression stripping away all his defenses.

“Because there was a twenty percent chance I would miss,” he said. “And a one hundred percent chance I could not live in a world without you p>

Skye set the tea down. She leaned in and kissed him. It wasn’t desperate this time. It was slow, deep, and full of promise.

“I love you,” she whispered against his lips.

Alistair froze. It was the first time she had said it.

“Say it again,” he demanded hoarsely.

“I love you, Alistair Thorne p>

He pulled her onto his lap, burying his face in her neck. “I have loved you since the moment you walked into that ballroom and set the world on fire p>

They fell asleep like that, tangled together in the narrow seat, flying away from the darkness and into the dawn.

The sun was blinding when Skye finally opened her eyes. The disorientation was absolute; for a moment, she didn’t know where she was or what day it was. The soft, rhythmic sound of waves crashing against rocks grounded her.

“You’ve been asleep for nearly forty hours,” Alistair’s voice came from the doorway. He was leaning against the frame, holding a tray of food. He looked cleaner, rested, but the tension was still etched around his eyes.

Forty hours. Two days lost to exhaustion and recovery. Skye sat up, wincing as her muscles protested. She was in a massive, airy bedroom overlooking the ocean. The Hamptons estate was exactly as Alistair had described: a fortress disguised as a mansion.

“I feel like I was hit by a truck,” Skye groaned.

𝗧h𝗈u𝗌а𝗻d𝗌 о𝖿 𝘯𝗈𝘃𝗲lѕ o𝗻 𝘣е.𝘤𝗈𝘮

“You essentially were,” Alistair said, setting the tray down on the bed. “Eat. Wayne arrived an hour ago. He’s downstairs p>

Skye ate quickly, the food reviving her. After a shower and a change into fresh clothes Alistair had provided, they went downstairs.

Wayne was waiting in the library, looking disheveled and jumpy. He had clearly driven straight through the night to get there.

“You made it,” Skye said as she stepped into the room.

Wayne nodded, stamping out a cigarette in a crystal ashtray. “Barely. Dominic is looking for me p>

“He won’t find you here,” Alistair said, shaking Wayne’s hand. A truce.

“We need to see what the narrative is,” Alistair said, picking up a remote. “While you were sleeping, the world kept turning. And not in a good way p>

The screen flickered to life. It was a news channel. Breaking news.

But it wasn’t about the hotel shootout.

The banner read: “KENSINGTON-QUINN MERGER & ENGAGEMENT ANNOUNCED p>

Skye felt the blood drain from her face.

On the screen, Liam Kensington sat behind a low table covered in microphones. He looked… wrong. His eyes were glassy, his posture stiff. He wore a suit that looked too big for him. He wasn’t standing; he was slumped slightly in his wheelchair, though the camera angles tried to hide the wheels.