Heart Thief - The Sinister Fairy Tales

“How do you know my name?”

“Because Clara talked about you. You were her favorite person in the world.”

“Don’t speak for her, she left me,” she stammers, anger and sorrow washing over her.

“She planned to return for you,” I tell her honestly.

“Do you know who killed her?” Her question sounds accusatory.

I frown. Has she not heard the rumors?

The door opens behind her. She lifts the lamp again, aiming it toward Colt.

“Did I interrupt something?” he asks, amused. “Islander, are you trying to turn me on?” he adds, walking past her until he’s standing in front of me. “Did you honestly get bested by a small woman?”

“Fuck you. Untie me,” I grind out. “Colt!” I nod toward Mona running from the room.

“She won’t get far.” He tugs on the fabric encasing me.

When I finally get free, I march from the room in search of her. Colt was wrong. Mona didn’t head for the front door, which is securely locked. She fled through a window in the library.

“Hmmm, I didn’t see that coming,” Colt muses, looking over my shoulder. Mona’s hair wisps behind her like a cape as she runs toward the gates.

“She’s shoeless,” I grind out. Colt slips out his phone and calls Miles at the front gate. “Bring our little runaway back inside please.” I follow him through to the dining room where the table is set for a king—or kings. An array of breakfast foods layer the table. Colt seats himself at the head and unfolds a paper, sipping a black coffee. “You look like Father,” I scoff.

“And you look like you’ve been on a five-year bender,” he retorts, refusing to look up at me. We were closer than two brothers could be at one time. We shared everything—then Clara came into my world and changed it all.

Colt detested people from Cult Island. Our father’s hate for them was bred into us from such a young age. With Colt, it stuck. With me, Clara captivated me and spun my world on its axis.

She was leaving that place for good. She wanted to change her whole life for me—for us. My father lost his damn mind. Colt, despite his disapproval, sided with me when our father threatened to cut me from the family businesses and will.

“Let go of me.” Mona’s angry snarl brings me back from my thoughts. Colt looks up from the paper, a smile on his lips.

“Why don’t you sit and eat, then I’ll get a pair of shoes brought in for you and we can talk about the questions you had last night.”

“Am I a prisoner?” she grinds out.

“We’re not the ones tying people up,” he says with a quirked a brow at the same time I say, “No.”

Her gaze darts around the offerings on the table, then back to Colt.

“Sit,” he instructs, conflict all over her beautiful face. She doesn’t want to give in to him, but the food is calling to her.

“Fine.” She sits in the seat across from me, and I can’t help but stare at her.

Thick, dark curls frame her face and fall down her chest to her waist. Her eyes are the color of burning embers. It’s mesmerizing.

Clara was a beautiful woman, but Mona has a beauty rarely born naturally. Wide oval eyes fanned with dark lashes, small pixie nose, and high cheekbones scattered with light freckles. My eyes drop to her thick, plump lips, and I have to adjust myself discreetly.

“Eat,” Colt adds. She waits a few seconds, then fills a bowl with fresh fruit and yogurt and a plate with bacon, eggs, and sausage. Taking her fork, she tastes everything. Her animated response to each new thing is compelling to watch.

“Oh my God. What is this? It’s magical.” She holds up a jar of Nutella and dips her finger inside. Scooping out a finger full, she sucks it clean while moaning. Both Colt and I groan in response.

Fuck, does she realize how sexual she sounds—and looks—and is? There’s sexuality about her Clara didn’t have.

Clara was nervous, innocent, and cautious around men. I was the first person she’d kissed. I don’t think that’s the case with Mona. There’s a maturity about her despite her young age. I think back, trying to remember how old she would be now. “Eighteen,” I say aloud when it comes to me.

“What?” She freezes.

“Yesterday was your birthday.” I only remember because it was the same day Clara’s body was found.

“How do you know that?” She gasps, a smudge of Nutella in the corner of her mouth.

My eyes flash to her necklace.

“Is this how you knew Clara? Because she came to you to buy these?” she asks, clutching the heart pendants.

“I didn’t meet Clara here,” I informed her, taking a piece of bacon and biting into it.

Her eyes widen. She puts the jar down, and Colt reaches over to swipe the smudge at the corner of her mouth, making her inhale sharply. He sucks the pad of his thumb into his mouth and hums, “Mmmm, magical indeed.” A flicker of jealously and arousal sparks inside me, catching me off guard.