“Hmm,” he hummed while he chewed. “Good times.”
Some of it.
We ate the rest of our food in silence until Jamie asked if I had a candle. I retrieved one for him, along with some matches. He then asked me for my car keys. I handed them over without question. He tossed both his keys and mine to Louie. “Help her out to my car. I’ll need you to follow us in hers. She can’t drive,” Jamie said before heading upstairs with the candle and matches.
“Come along, princess. Let’s get you home.”
The word home made my stomach drop. Here we go.
Louie scooped up my bag before heading for the door. I followed, clutching my purse strap. I refused to look back as I put one foot in front of the other.
It wasn’t until we were on the highway heading south that I thought to wonder why Jamie had needed a candle. I realized that setting my bedroom on fire to make it look like an accident was the easiest way to get rid of all the evidence. Whatever works, I guess. I leaned my chair back and drifted off to sleep.
I woke from a gentle caress along my cheek.
“Maura.”
I opened my eyes, finding Jamie staring at me. We were still in his car.
“We’re home.”
I sat up in my seat and read the time on Jamie’s dash. It was two in the morning. My eyes traveled outside, and sure enough, we were parked in front of my childhood home.
Stefan’s home was monstrous compared to my little two-bedroom townhouse. It was a three-story Gothic Victorian on five acres of walled-off land. The house was, in my opinion, excessive for just one man, with its fourteen bedrooms, nineteen bathrooms, ten-car garage, and a three-bedroom pool house in the back, but it’d been in the family for generations since our ancestors migrated here from Ireland.
House maybe wasn’t the correct term used to describe this place. Castle was more like it. The majority of the exterior was dark stone, accented with a lighter pale stone around the windows and chimneys. The driveway was paved with gray cobblestone and the property was sprinkled with big oak trees and lush green grass. Quinn Manor was just as I remembered. Beautiful yet ominous.
With a heavy sigh, I climbed out of the car.
Walking up the stone steps to the giant espresso wooden front doors, I noticed the security cameras. I hadn't missed those after I'd left, or all the guards who were walking the property. Stefan had better security than the president. He had men on guard outside as well as inside the house. Then there were the cameras everywhere. The only places without were the bedrooms and bathrooms. There was very little privacy. I was already missing the freedom of being able to walk around my house naked without a bunch of goons seeing me. Not that I'd done that all the time, but I had sexually christened every room of my little house with Tom.
Well, that thought just made me feel gross.
I walked ahead of Jamie as we entered through the giant doors. Once inside, I became overwhelmed with nostalgia. The smells, the sounds, they hadn’t changed. Even the furniture in the foyer, apart from the flowers on the entryway table, were the same.
The house had that old gothic feel to it with a little bit of modern and Irish charm woven in. In some areas, the house still had its original mahogany-paneled walls, as well as a matching banister that ran along the grand staircase that greeted you as you walked through the front door. All the sleek wood was accented with breathtaking hand-carved Celtic lattice knotwork. The craftsmanship dated back to the eighteen-hundreds when the house had been first built.
“Maura, welcome home.” I was greeted by Brody, my father’s personal assistant slash estate manager, as he entered from the formal lounge to the right of the foyer. He, like every other man who worked closely with Stefan, was wearing a crisp tailored suit. He reminded me of a steward who’d been Americanized, modernized, and Stefan-ized.
Brody had been a figure in this house ever since Stefan had taken over as the boss. He managed everything from my father’s day-to-day life to the staff in the house. If it was domestic, Brody took care of it. He'd even taken on the role of being a second parent to me. He'd been who I'd gone to when I couldn’t have gone to Stefan and who'd watched over me when he'd been gone. When I'd started my period, I'd run to Brody. When I'd needed to start wearing bras, Brody had taken me shopping. He'd even given me the sex talk before I'd started high school. He'd been kind of like the mother I'd never had because mine had passed away in a car crash when I'd been a baby.
I greeted him back with a warm hug. “What are you doing up? It’s way past your bedtime, old man,” I teased.
“Old man? I’m younger than your father, who by the way isn’t that old either,” he stated as he stared down at me, smiling. Stefan was forty-six and Brody was only forty-one. I guessed you could say they were middle aged. I definitely wouldn’t have wanted to be considered old in my forties. Apart from Brody’s salt-and-pepper hair and the few wrinkles around his chocolate eyes, the rest of his face was youthful. The way he carried himself was that of someone who still had a lot of air in their tires, but that wasn’t the point behind all my teasing.
“You didn’t have to stay up. I know taking care of Stefan is exhausting.”
“That is true. Especially after a day like today. He drove my staff crazy trying to make sure everything was perfect for when you arrived.”
That's doubtful. I scoffed. “Are we talking about the same Stefan?”
Both him and Jamie seemed to go a little rigid. They had both witnessed the majority of the shit Stefan had put me through, but because of their loyalties, they’d never talked about it.
Brody’s smile turned stiff. “He’s waiting for you in his study. I’ll take your things up to your room.” He held out his hands to take my purse and bag from Jamie. “Good evening, Jameson,” Brody greeted Jamie.
“Brody,” Jamie greeted back before following me as I made my way toward Stefan’s study.
“Where’s Louie?” I asked over my shoulder. He hadn't followed us into the house and I hadn't seen him or my car anywhere outside. He must have parked it in the garage.
“He went home.”
“What about you?”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?” he asked, tone teasing and his eyes gleaming.
I stopped walking. “No. What’s so funny?” He was acting weird.
He shrugged and walked ahead of me. “I live here.”
What?! “When did that happen?” I was a little shocked. “And why? You loved your bachelor pad.”
“I moved back in five years ago. Louie bought my condo and lives there now. As for why, I had my reasons.”
I sighed dramatically. “Fine, don’t tell me. I swear, getting information from you is like pulling teeth sometimes. You’re lucky I love you, because you’re extremely high maintenance.”
Jamie’s head fell back, his laughter echoing through the hall, startling me. “You’re one to talk.”
CHAPTER 5
Stefan was sitting behind his big oak desk when we entered his study. Due to zero windows, the only light that filled the room came from the iron fixtures on the mahogany wood walls. The far back wall was a floor to ceiling built-in bookcase filled with hardbacks. His desk was slightly off center, facing the entrance, taking up some of the right side of the room, leaving just enough space for a large antique liquor trolley stocked to the nines with crystal tumblers and decanters filled with gold and amber spirits. The entire left side of the room was a fully equipped lounge with a leather couch against the wall and two matching leather armchairs facing each other.