The Unexpected Wife - Jess Michaels Page 0,87

alone?”

“Because I thought you were murdered and I gave a damn about bringing the killer of my only brother to justice,” Leighton said, his voice shaking. “And here you are, playing out another game with people’s emotions. Like we’re all pieces on your bloody chessboard.”

“You were always better at that game than I was,” Montgomery said.

“But not this one. This game you are expert at,” Leighton replied, turning his face in disgust. His gaze landed on Phillipa. “Has he hurt you?”

“No,” she whispered, and cast her eyes to the ground.

“I’m also fine, thank you both for asking,” Abigail muttered.

“My wife, eh?” Montgomery said. “Tsk, tsk, big brother. That isn’t very proper at all.”

“Enough of this!” Leighton snapped. “You are going to put that fucking gun down and you are going to answer for what you’ve done.”

“You’re not my lord and master. You’re barely my brother,” Montgomery snapped, and Owen flinched. He was dangerous, and even more so as he became agitated.

Leighton seemed to see the same because he drew in a few breaths. “You must know this is inescapable now.” His tone was much gentler. “Please, Ras, let Celeste go, let the others go, and you and I can talk. We’ll mitigate the damage, we’ll—”

“Will you shut your mouth?” Montgomery drawled. “Bloody fucking hell, shut your mouth. Stop pretending you give a damn about me. Yeah, we need to work this out. But it’s on my terms now, my lord.”

Owen cleared his throat. “And what are those terms?”

Montgomery shook his head. “I want my money, Rhys. I want the money you stole from me.”

“I didn’t steal anything. You had access to an inheritance for years, far beyond what Father left for you. I cut you off because you couldn’t manage to keep any control over yourself. I stole nothing from you.”

“Leighton,” Owen said. “Look at Celeste.”

Her eyes were squeezed shut, her face entirely white and pinched with pain. Montgomery had jammed the gun so hard against her ribs that Owen was certain she would have a massive bruise. If she survived this.

But no, he couldn’t think of an alternative to her survival. Not if he wanted to function.

Leighton cleared his throat. “Please let her go.”

“I have leverage with this one,” Montgomery said with a flash of a grin toward Owen that made him want to grab the man and strangle the very life out of his body. “And I think I might have some leverage with that one, too.” He nudged his head toward Pippa. “Tough luck, Abigail—looks like you don’t have a champion.”

At the fireplace, Rosie Stanton gave a little cruel laugh.

Montgomery arched a brow at his brother. “Tell me what I want to hear and then I’ll give you gentlemen what you want.”

“Money,” Leighton said softly. “Enough to start your life wherever you want. With your family, Rosie and the…” He cleared his throat. “The child. Assuming you want him.”

There was a beat where Montgomery gave no answer, and it was all the answer in the world. Rosie Stanton stepped forward, her hands behind her back as she glared at him. “You would truly abandon our son?”

Montgomery pursed his lips. “He served his purpose if we get what we want, didn’t he? Do you really want some screaming brat bogging us down, ruining the fun we’ll have?”

“He’s my child!” she screeched at the top of her lungs.

Montgomery looked at her with disgust, undisguised and cruel. “Maybe you don’t want to come then, eh, girl? Maybe you want to stay behind and face whatever consequences my brother has in mind for your part in this?”

Rosie was silent for a moment, staring at him like she didn’t even know him. And then she pulled a pistol from behind her back and trained it on him, on Celeste just as surely. And Owen’s heart felt like it was being torn from his chest.

Celeste bit back a yelp as Erasmus yanked her so that Rosie Stanton’s gun was only pointed at her. A shield to protect him, just as he’d always been using others to protect himself over the years. They were all victims of it, everyone in this room. Even the woman who could very easily end her life.

“I’ve been following you for years,” Rosie sobbed, the gun shaking in her hand. “Watching you bed woman after woman and tell me it was for our future. Watching you waste everything you got and pretend that it was for me and our son.”

“For you,” he said. “You ungrateful cow. And now you

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