going to wrap my hands around his neck and choke the life out of him,” I growl.
“Noah, what’s going on?”
“Howard Malloy designed the drug that killed my brother.” My whole body shakes with the need to destroy him, to tear his flesh from his bones, to make him feel the pain I’d lived in ever since Felix died. “And my father paid for it. He funded it. And when it went wrong, he and Malloy worked together to cover it up.”
11
Claudia
I stare at the paper in Noah’s trembling hand. John Marlowe funded the production of the drug that killed his own son?
That’s insane.
It makes no sense. What about the very ugly, very public court case? Malloy Supplements had the best lawyers in the business – why didn’t they just bring up Marlowe’s involvement from the onset? Why was he keeping these papers hidden away… unless it was in Howard Malloy’s interest not to have Senator Marlowe’s involvement known. But if they were working together, why would Marlowe hire Brentwood to have Howard and his family killed?
The lab reports leave a big, fat question mark over the entire affair. I feel untethered, lost in the sense that Malloy Manor is working to unravel the secrets Howard built around himself, the secrets that had kept me safe as his child ghost.
This is beyond my ability to puzzle out, and it’s not something I can call Antony to get answers from the underground. No, this needs Eli Hart and his Sherlock Holmes orgasm face, Eli who always has the uncanny ability to look right through a problem and see into the messy, broken heart of it. From the way Noah’s poring over the papers with an obsessive film over his eyes, I know he’s thinking the same thing.
But Eli isn’t here, and I’ve got a dangerously deteriorating Noah Marlowe on my hands. As Noah rereads those lab reports in Howard Malloy’s secret box, I see my own madness reflected in him – he needs an outlet for his rage or it will consume him.
Even though I’m curious about what it all means, I know this isn’t time for puzzling. I drag Noah into the ballroom and toss a sword at him.
“Go on.” I heft my own sword and face him, my feet spread, my fingers loose, feeling the weight of the weapon. “Raise your sword.”
“I’m not going to fight you, Claudia.” Noah manages to sound both derisive and faintly amused.
“Suit yourself.” I swing my sword at his head, not holding anything back. Noah yells as he ducks, throwing his weapon in the air to meet mine with a CLANG. He’s caught me on the wrong part of the blade, and the momentum throws off his balance. His boot catches the edge of the coffee table, and he staggers backward. I wind against his blade and bring my pommel up, slamming it into his cheek.
“Jesus fuck!” Noah yells as he throws his sword down and grabs his face. “You’re crazy. That fucking hurt. You could have taken off my head with that blade.”
“Damn right. You want to play in my world? You want to sit around in my house and talk about killing your father and getting revenge for your brother? Then grow some testicles. It’s all words. It means jack shit unless you’re willing to draw blood for your convictions.” I flick a knife from my wrist. “You don’t know what we’re up against, or what it’s going to take to bring them down.”
His hands ball into fists. “You know nothing about me.”
“Then surprise me, Marlowe.” I tap the tip of my sword against my toe. “On your feet.”
Noah drags himself upright, but he doesn’t pick up his sword. He folds his arms across his chest and glares at me with that powerful rage curling. “I’m not fighting you.”
“Why not?” I jeer, tossing aside my own sword and moving closer, fists raised. I throw a punch at his head, but he ducks easily. I pummel him with my fists, but he blocks every punch, his huge arms like brick walls in my way. I go in for an uppercut, and Noah grabs my wrist, twisting my body against his and hemming me in with his bulk. His heart thumps against my skin, and the salt and jasmine scent of him makes my stomach flip. I’m not the only one who finds this hot – I can feel Noah’s hard cock digging into my leg.
He’s fast. Holy fuck he’s fast. Noah Marlowe knows how