Violent Chaos (Bay Ridge Royals Book 5) by Heather Long

Author:Heather Long [Long, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-05-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter

Eighteen

LAINEY

Margareta Waldemar was an enigma. On the one hand, she was everything familiar about a matron of a wealthy family. Erudite and classy, she could more than hold her own on any number of topics. There was a genuine warmth to her, present as we worked together to chop and prepare vegetables.

The fondness that appeared in her eye when she glanced around the room at Adam or Milo wasn’t lost on me. Nor was the fact that she spoke to her guards like they were family. Despite all of this, she wore power like an empress who did not need to defend her crown.

She knew exactly who she was, and she was extremely comfortable with it. Yet, her story about loss, about the falling out between her son and her husband—it resonated. For all the issues I had with my mother, she was still my mother. I didn’t want her to die.

The cognitive dissonance of so many competing aspects of this woman being true had me asking her about King. Clearly, she wanted him gone. But why?

Her methods involved leveraging Adam, kidnapping Em, and, for some reason, seeking out Milo whether in person or via Adam. The enemy of our enemy didn’t mean she was our friend. Yet, she wanted to be, and that only made me more suspicious.

As fascinating as the whole interaction was, I stepped outside of the social dance to be direct. “Speaking of Adam—and Milo—and everyone else, why do you want Julius King dead?”

Silence flooded the room. The shifting sands of tension seemed almost loud against the tapestry of quiet. Margareta wiped her hands on a towel before she turned to fill a kettle with water.

Each action she took was measured and precise. Gathering the time she needed to decide her answer, perhaps? Or maybe self-soothing. I couldn’t really tell.

My awareness of the guys seemed to climb higher. Milo was within arm’s reach, and Bodhi had never sat down. While Adam and Ezra had, they were both in chairs that were easily abandoned.

“I applaud your directness,” Margareta said as she faced me once more. “It’s a rare quality these days, particularly in social settings.”

“We’re not exactly in a social setting,” I reminded her. “Your kitchen. Your rules.”

Amusement appeared in the form of a brief smile that vanished as she pressed her index finger to her lips as though shushing. “You have a point.”

“Thank you.”

Her gaze turned, assessing as she met mine, then she looked at Milo. “As you are all present, may I presume we can all be as direct with each other?”

“Frankly, I prefer directness to all this fancy dancing around the damn topic.” Milo met her stare evenly. “If you have questions, ask.”

“That doesn’t sound like you are saying you will answer all of them.” The fact she tested Milo irritated me on a level I had to smother for the moment. It was movement, and we needed movement.

“As you’ve proven a fount of answers for all our questions,” he retorted, “I see it as an equitable exchange.

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