His Word...Depraved (Excerpt)

Working Title: His Word...Depraved. Release Date: To be advised.

(Unedited)

Excerpt:

Nathan Buchanan

My cell phone blared inside my pocket while I waited for the light to change to allow all the pedestrians gathered with me to walk across the intersection. Snatching it out of my pocket, I glanced down at the screen. When I saw Jaxon’s name, I accepted the call and put the phone up to my ear.

“Are you fucking serious?” he growled in disbelief before I even had the chance to say any sort of greeting. I instantly knew what he was talking about.

“Yes, I’m fucking serious.” The little green man lit up and I stepped out onto the road with the swell of pedestrians to march diagonally across the intersection.

“How in the hell did you find that out?” My blood was already at boiling point. I clenched my teeth to bite back the barb that wanted to come out of my mouth.

“Jessica Gedees,” I ground out. “Just find out if it’s true or not, and if it is, I want to know when and where it fucking happened.” I didn’t give Jaxon the opportunity to respond before I ended our call, then shoved my phone back into my pocket.

Chalmers was waiting right where I’d told him to. When I reached the car, I lifted the handle of the back door to pop it open. Once I climbed in and dropped onto the seat, I slammed the door closed so hard, the vehicle briefly rocked from side to side.

“Meriton on Kent Street,” I growled. Chalmers started the car, but he didn’t move from where he’d parked. “What are you waiting for? A printed fucking invitation?” Chalmers didn’t even flinch at the level of aggression in my voice.

“Are you absolutely sure you want to go to the Meriton, Mr. Buchanan?”

“Since when do you have the audacity to question my orders?” I snapped back, glaring at his reflection in the rearview mirror.

“There was a line of vehicles following the limousine, Mr. Buchanan. A long line,” he emphasized pointedly.

For fuck’s sake. Fucking paparazzi. My eyes narrowed and I ground my teeth together. “Take me home,” I bit out. With what happened at the court house, I doubt I’ll get anywhere close to Cherub now. Especially with that fucker Anderson glued to her side.

Now that I had time to think, my thoughts were consumed with the idea she may be married to Webber. Nothing had been reported anywhere about their marriage. That’s not something that would be missed by the press. How in the fuck did Jessica Gedees come to that conclusion? Does she have proof?

I idly watched the scenery go by until a thought almost hit me up the side of the head. Fifi fucking Jackson, I almost snorted aloud. This has her name written all over it. But has the devious little bitch just circulated a rumor, or are they, in fact, married? “They better fucking not be,” I grumbled beneath my breath. There’s going to be hell to pay if they are.

Sebastian Neaves.

Her brother AND Webber’s brother?

Patricia IS Neaves’ mother … she confirmed it, so the whole world will now know what I already knew thanks to Jaxon and his hounds.

This is all one big fucking mess because Webber’s father couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive. That quote by Sir Walter Scott in 1808 couldn’t be any truer to describe the shit-fest that just took place on those damned steps.

That still doesn’t explain Cherub’s reaction when Patricia confirmed Neaves was her son. Judging from the paleness of her face and the look of horror that swept over her as she collapsed, Angelica was certainly unaware of her connection to Sebastian. Webber will know, now, but has he always been aware of Neaves’ connection to Patricia? Is that why he’s kept him around for so long?

Another thought hit me out of the blue. Neaves lived with them in the penthouse at Tranquil Gardens. Was he … did they … no, I shook my head as if that would dislodge the thought completely. Webber isn’t known to be the sharing type. He’s possessive over what belongs to him. No wonder he acted like he fucking owned her whenever her name was mentioned, I thought grimly. I doubt Cherub would agree to be involved in any sort of menage a trois.

My thoughts wandered back to Fifi Jackson. Immediately, I felt the level of anger inside of me increase. My nostrils flared, my eyes narrowed, and my jaw clenched. You should have taken me up on my offer of amnesty, you little bitch. I warned you that you’ll suffer the consequences. You’ll find out my word is just good as Webber’s. For a totally different reason.

With the brick, Seaton, being her security twenty-four-seven, and, no doubt, paparazzi mobbing both her and Webber thanks to her passing on information to Jessica Gedees, it’s going to be a nightmare trying to get close enough to exact my revenge. I was sure that little witch was the one who happily passed on the connection Neaves has to both Webber and my Cherub.

Is she also the one who passed on that Webber and Cherub are supposedly married? I had a gnawing feeling in my gut that rumour was correct, and I felt my blood boiling. If it is true, and she passed that morsel onto Jessica, she’ll be totally pissed off. That puts a bit of a spanner in the works for her plans of trapping him into matrimony.

By the time Chalmers reached the gates of my estate, my lips had curled up into a partial grin. I’d worked out a rough plan in my head to make that bitch pay for breaking into my viewing room and taking something she had no right to, but executing it is going to be a little tricky.

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