Page 69 of Silver Sinner

It's easy to ignore because, for the first time in my life, I'm being taken care of. Maddie enjoys a shower in our new bathroom—because Pierce left no room untouched—and then cuddles to sleep in her new bed while wearing the biggest smile I've seen since Christmas.

"I love you, mommy," she says with a yawn. "I hope… I hope you always stay friends with Mr. Pierce."

"I love you too, sweetie," I reply, kissing her forehead. "Now, go to sleep."

"I-I'm not… sleep—" She's out like a light, and my heart soars at seeing her so peaceful, so blissfully unaffected by everything that's happened. As I leave her room, I replay what the receptionist said in my mind. Therapy is a good idea. If there's anything bothering her then they'll be able to help. I make the appointment via email and then find myself standing in the dark doorway leading to the kitchen.

I blink and suddenly the oven door is open and smashed, the floor is cracked by bullets, and the deep red smear of Amy's head is spread over the counter, with her body slumped underneath. My heart lurches, and nausea pulls through my stomach, so I dive inside and slam on the light.

The image vanishes and I'm standing in the new kitchen, not a drop of blood in sight. Just a memory. Swallowing it down, I move to the fridge and open it to find it filled to the brim with food and two bottles of wine clattering slightly in the door.

Pierce really did think of everything.

Grabbing the wine, I pour a glass and retreat to my new couch that caresses my tired butt and legs with firm softness. With the TV on for company, I send Pierce a quick text thanking him for the food and everything else, then flick to my socials to doomscroll before bed. I don't get far. After a couple of ads and trailers, a news article pops up on the screen of a fire that tore through a convenience store and apartment, leaving two dead inside.

The address is immediately familiar.

Drake's place.

The fire happened the same night Pierce rescued me and brought me to his penthouse. He'd promised to stay with me, but I'd woken in the night to find the bed empty.

Did… Pierce do this?

No, no, that's crazy.

He's a good man. A decent man. He wouldn't go and hunt someone down just to… burn them down and kill them, would he?

Would he?

And what if he did? The man who has done so much for me, saved Maddie and my life, stripped my apartment so I didn't come home to a horror show, thought to call the school and my work to ensure everything remained safe and waiting for me when I was ready. A man who would go to that length to care for me… would he go as far as murder?

I let my phone fall into my lap and hug the wine glass to my chest, gazing blankly at the TV.

What if he did do that? What if he told me he found the people who did this to me and Maddie, who killed Amy, and gave them what they deserved? Surprisingly, fear isn't my first thought; gratefulness is. Awe. Hopefulness. And maybe a little excitement at how hot it would be if his protective streak went that far.

Pierce definitely doesn't work in real estate.

So who is he really? I adore him, but he's such a mystery.

A mystery that plagues me until I crawl into bed later that night, and a mystery that fades as a message springs up on my phone with a demand to meet, no excuses.

A message from Trik.

Shit.

26

PIERCE

"How pissed is Adrian?" Moses sits across from me on the other side of my desk, licking stamps and pressing them into the envelopes laid out across the desk. Given how hectic the last few weeks have been, I organized a bonus for several of my men, including the shadow I placed on Layla, who thankfully survived his surgery. Moses decided handing bonuses out with flair would be more fun and as such, took over the presentation.

"You mean how pissed is he that I left that meeting with Pavel and then dodged him for three days?"

"Exactly."

"He's fine. Last I heard, Pavel left that meeting with his tail between his legs and there's been no noise since. With any luck, he's realized for a fucking stretch it is for him to make a fuss about something so damn far down the pole."

"He always was like a rabid god," Moses murmurs. "Can't let anything go."