Chapter 209
Skyw’s phone bed in her packet, the pulled it out.
Amage from an unknown number.
She opened it. The color drained from her face, so fast Alistair thought she might faint again.
It was a photo.
Uncle Arthur Sterling was tied to a copper pipe in a dark, wat hement. His face was gray, his eyes closed. A newspaper lay on his chest with today’s chats.
The caption read: Come to the Manor alone. Or Daddy dias. No cops.
Skyw didn’t gasp. She didn’t scream. She simply stared at the image, cold, grim acceptance settling over her features
“I knew it,” she whispered, showing the phone to Alistair. “I knew he wasn’t just gone. They took him from the hotel to the Manor.”
“They’re cornered animals,” Alistair said, his eyes scanning the photo for details. “Danger,”
“I have to go,” Skyw said, pulling away. “They said alone.”
Alistair didn’t let go of her wrist. “Absolutely not.”
“He’s my father!” Skye hissed. “I hate him, Alistair. He was weak. He let them walk all over me. But he’s the only blood I have left who hasn’t tried to sell me.”
“We go together,” Alistair said. His tone booked no argument. “Or you don’t go at all. I can have a tactical team at Sterling Manor in ten minutes.”
“if they saw police, they kill him,” Sky said.
“They won’t see police,” Alistair said darkly. “They’ll saw me.”
He turned to the door. “Let’s go.”
They excited the precinct through a private hack door, avoiding the media circus still raging at the front. Alistair’s driver was
As they climbed in, Skywow Liam being led out of the interrogation room. He wasn’t heading to a cell. He was flanked by his high-priced lawyer, Sillas Vane, who was shouting at the officers
“My client has a severe concussion and internal injuries from the wault by Mr. Thornet” Vane yelled, waving a medical form. “We have emergency judicial order for immediate hospitalization! You cannot hold him in this condition!”
Addictive novate on beloweb.com
The officers looked frustrated but stepped back. Liam was being loaded into a private ambulance, not a police van. He looked up and locked eyes with Skyw through the Maybach window.
He didn’t look defeated. He looked manic. A terrifying, broken smile spread across his bloody face.
“He’s getting cat,” Skye whispered, clutching Alistair’s arm. “They’re reling him to a hospital.”
“He won’t stay there,” Alistair predicted grimly. “Sila Visa magician with loopholes. Liam will be on the street within the hour.”
In the back of the Maybach, Alistair opened a hidden compartment under the armnot. He pulled out a matte black handgun and checked the magazine with practiced officiency.
Skyw stared at it.”You carry a gun?”
“I have, Skye,” Alistair said, holstering the weapon at the small of his hack. “And now, so do you.”