Mr Spencer (Mr. 2)
Page 160
Anthony shrugs. “Nobody will ever be good enough for her in his eyes.”
“I can see why,” I mutter under my breath. “Most certainly not me.”
Wyatt smirks and sips his beer.
“Tell me, for interest’s sake, why is she so guarded?” I ask.
They exchange looks.
“I won’t say anything to her or anyone else, of course. I don’t want her frightened.” I sip my beer. “But I would like to know what we’re dealing with here.”
Their eyes meet again, and Wyatt shrugs.
“There was another car involved in Francesca Prescott’s fatal car accident.”
I frown. “Her mother?”
“Yes, but it’s never been known who was driving the other car.” I think for a moment. “Does Charlotte know this? Are they sure the other car was there intentionally?”
“No, not at all. Charlotte’s not to be told. The tyre marks suggest that she was run off the road by another vehicle. No trace on who, though, and no proof that it is actually sinister, but it’s just enough for the fear of God to have been put into them about Charlotte’s safety.” Anthony drinks his beer. “She’s adored.”
“By all that know her,” I agree.
They nod.
“And that’s it?” I ask. “The car accident five years ago is what keeps you two in a job?” I shrug.
Anthony exhales, and his eyes hold mine. That’s when I know there is more. “What else?” I ask sharply.
“I’ve been with the Prescotts for ten years,” Anthony says. “I’ve witnessed a lot of meetings going on, and there is bad blood around the family… a lot of it.”
“Such as?”
“When it comes to business, they’re ruthless. Nobody stands in their way.”
I frown. “Just Edward?”
“Both of them. If someone wanted to hurt them, Charlotte is the way to do it.” He sips his beer. “The only way to do it.”
“Do you feel she’s in danger?” I ask, my eyes holding his. “I mean amongst the people you’ve seen them deal with, in your honest opinion, is Charlotte a target?”
“Massively,” he answers flatly. “Why do you think she has two guards on her all the time? Why do you think they keep her hidden at the estate and away from paparazzi?”
I exhale heavily, and my mind begins to race. We remain silent as we fall into our own thoughts.
“Can you do me a favour?”
“What?” Anthony asks.
“Give us a few days before you tell them, if you can. I’ve organised to sublet an apartment in my building for you two. Charlotte will be staying there with me from now on.”
The boys exchange looks, and Wyatt smirks. “You really think they’re going to let her stay with you?”
My eyes hold his. “They won’t have a fucking say in it.”
Anthony raises his eyebrow and sips his beer.
“What does that look mean?” I ask.