Wicked Heiress (Princes of Devil's Creek Book 5) by Jillian Frost

Author:Jillian Frost [Frost, Jillian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penn Publishing
Published: 2024-03-04T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-Two

COLE

I downed the contents of my glass and nodded at the bartender for another. My eyes moved to Grace, who looked gorgeous in a strapless red dress. She flicked her hair over her shoulder and giggled as Bastian told her a joke.

Most men in the room were The Devil’s Knights or The Founders Society members. I caught plenty of guests’ gazes darting in her direction. They wanted a good look at the only granddaughter of Fitzgerald Archibald Adams IV. This was Grace’s first time in the spotlight.

“Fitzy invited The Founders and The Devil’s Knights,” I said to Drake, glancing at Grace. “She might be his heir, but Fitzy hates her. This could be another one of his punishments.”

Drake raised a glass of scotch to his mouth. “Fitzy is up to something. I overheard him talking to Carl Wellington about the flight that killed Bastian and Damian’s parents.”

“Probably arguing over shares of Atlantic Airlines.”

“Maybe.” He took another sip. “But it sounded more intense than shares in a company.” Drake leaned into my arm and lowered his voice, “After this is over, we need to talk. Viktor made contact earlier.”

My eyes widened. “Yeah?”

‘This is good for Grace,” he said with a nod. “I’ll explain later.”

I spotted Fitzy moving through the crowd, which parted for him. Everyone wanted to steal a second of his time. He was a powerful man and the richest in the world. The Adams family owned banks, railroads, tech companies, and dozens of holding companies. They were once governors, senators, and even presidents. He ignored those who attempted to gain his attention, eyes fixed on Grace.

His target.

As Fitzy looked at her, hatred scrolled across his face. Despite his age, the old man looked at least twenty years younger. His skin was nearly free of wrinkles, and his hair was without an ounce of gray. I often wondered if he was a cyborg.

Fitzy didn’t seem like a real person.

He didn’t act like one, either.

“Gentleman,” he said to the group, tugging at his cufflinks. “Staying out of trouble, I hope.”

“Of course,” Drake replied, even though we both knew it was a lie.

I nodded in response.

Bastian raised his glass.

Fitzy’s head snapped to Grace, and then he extended his hand. “It’s time. Come with me.”

Worry furrowed her brows as she looked to me for advice. I couldn’t help with her grandfather, even though I wanted to take her away from this place.

“What’s going on?” Grace asked him.

With a wicked glint in his eyes, Fitzy yanked on her arm. “You know better than to speak out of turn.”

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