Alone. Trapped.
I kept even steps down the hall and stepped into the elevator when the doors slid open.
I rode down to the ground floor.
And as Basilia Le Spyre, I walked out of Kyros Sky forever.
6
I saw the wooden stair a split second before my golf cart slammed into it.
My head whipped forward and the rear of the buggy lifted with impact. The cart bounced back on an angle, teetering on two wheels for a breath before toppling on its side and carrying me with it.
The air whooshed from my lungs. I thudded from the driver’s seat to the wooden floor, landing heavily on my side.
“Ouch,” I wheezed, untangling my legs from the wheel.
I blinked at my left hand and, smiling, lifted the intact tequila bottle in triumph. “Hey-oh!”
Didn’t spill a drop.
Resting my head on the cool ground, I opened my mouth and tried to pour more of the alcohol into my mouth sideways.
The bottle was plucked from my grip. “Miss Le Spyre, are you hurt?”
I squinted up at Fred. “You’re upside-down, Fred. Fuck, no wonder Grandmother hired you.”
His eyes scanned my body for injury. “Driving the golf cart through the halls under the influence again.”
“Sorry.” I sighed, closing my eyes.
There was a clink as he set the bottle down. He gripped me under the arms and slid me free of the upturned cart.
“Where’d we get a golf buggy from?” I mumbled, trying to hook the tequila bottle with my foot.
“You ordered it online three days ago, Miss Le Spyre. Another decision made under the influence.”
Arguably the best decisions were made with tequila.
Fred helped me to my feet, directing me away from the half-empty bottle when I glanced at it.
“Do you play golf?” I asked the butler, wobbling beside him.
“No, Miss Le Spyre. It’s too uneventful for me.”
He probably liked sports where he got to hit people. “I don’t play golf.”
“No, Miss Le Spyre. I’m aware.”
The butler gripped my upper arm as I stumbled up the wide mahogany stairs.
“I’m going to order an elevator online,” I told him as we reached the top. “Why don’t we have one again?”
I burped. My stomach wasn’t feeling so great.
A small smile graced his face. “Your grandmother said stairs built character. And that when she couldn’t walk up and down them, she was ready to be put down.”
Yep, that sounded like something Agatha Le Spyre would say.
I peered left to the mahogany panel doors at the far end of the long hall. Grandmother’s suite. Those doors held so many memories for me—sneaking in to try on her jewellery and make-up, standing outside trying to work up the courage to confess after causing trouble somewhere, and barging in to drag her out for Sunday brunch or to snuggle on a Saturday morning.
Swallowing, I wavered on my feet. “Take me to her room, Fred.”
Kind blue eyes on a weathered face looked out at me. “You’re certain, Miss Le Spyre? Perhaps it would be better in the morning?”
Why did he think I’d made a small dent in the liquor bottles over the last week? It certainly wasn’t for the fun of it, and it certainly wasn’t because of Kyros fucking Atagio.
I pressed my hand against my mouth to smother another belch. I rubbed my aching stomach. “Nope, I’m ready.”
“As you say.”
He helped me navigate the never-ending hall. Ten bedrooms made up the second level, five either side of the staircase—with my grandmother’s master suite at the end of the east wing. My suite down the end of the west wing was the same as hers, just slightly smaller.
I grasped the vertical iron handles of the mahogany doors, resting my thumbs on top of the levers. Taking a breath, I pushed the doors wide.
So familiar.
And so not.
The cleaning staff hadn’t allowed a speck of dust to accumulate. Everything was immaculate—as during my grandmother’s life. The only time to see the bed rumpled had been first thing in the morning. Even then, she always slept in the middle, hands resting on her stomach.
There was life in the room then.
Her suite felt lifeless now. Devoid of the person she was.
The sight of her in a white coffin surrounded by lavender flashed before my eyes, and I squeezed them shut.
“You don’t need to do this,” Fred said from just behind me.
I’d tiptoed around this suite, my grandmother’s office, and her lavender tiers since slamming the door of the taxi from Kyros Sky. Agatha Le Spyre would have slapped me upside the head five times already for not tackling her death head-on.
I straightened. “Where did you find her, Fred?”
“She rang the bathroom bell. I found her collapsed by the sink.”
My chest tightened. The bathroom. No one’s grandmother belonged on the bathroom floor.
Fred stepped forward and glanced at me. “I called the ambulance and returned Mrs Le Spyre to bed. When she stopped breathing, I started CPR and continued until help arrived. The paramedics attempted to revive her for twenty minutes.”
If I’d found myself in that position, I’d be a wreck.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” I reached for his hand, squeezing it tight.
The butler blinked a few times, his gaze fixed on the bed. “I started working here after serving in the army. Mrs Le Spyre said she needed someone who had equal measure of brain and brawn to protect her family and that if I was stupid or weak to get the fuck off the estate before she set the dogs on me.”
I choked on a laugh. We’d never owned dogs. Or any pet other than horses.
“Thirty-four years went by,” he said, a soft smile on his lips. “Everyday part of me wondered if that would be the day she purchased dogs just so they could chase me to the gate.”
I gave full throat to my husky laughter. “She was something else, wasn’t she?”
Fred lowered his head. “That she was, Miss Le Spyre. And you’ll be every bit the head of estate she was, in your own way.”
“Like driving golf carts down the hall?”
His eyes twinkled. “Coping is to be expected.”
Coping—so like him to spare my feelings and downplay my binge-drinking and online-shopping rampage. I sincerely hoped we hadn’t taken on staff who were getting their first look at me. Then Grandmother would be truly disappointed in me.
I sobered, releasing his hand to wrap my arms around myself.
“Miss Le Spyre.” He hesitated. “Have you considered calling Tommy?”
Everyday.
“She doesn’t want to see me,” I whispered.
“Forgive me for the intrusion, but did something happen?”
I managed to force the corners of my mouth. “You changed my diapers, Fred. Nothing you say is intrusive. And, yes. Something happened. I can’t talk about it though.”
His expression turned grim. “I see. Is there anyone else you can reach out to? A friend?”
I thought of Laurel—the only Vissimo to warn me about Kyros’s fucking game. But she had to report to the very person who’d tricked the rich brat into thinking she was special.
I felt so stupid. I couldn’t face Laurel.