❝ You make this messed-up world look so much more beautiful. ❞ Gathering me in his arms, he pulled me close -- his lips seeking mine hungrily.
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The only thing Summer Hale has ever wanted was to live peacefully away from her secrets...
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Because I'm the devil Who's searching for redemption — I Wanna Be Your Slave by Maneskin
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Stepping out of my car, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and answered the incoming call. "Doctor Martin," I greeted cautiously.
"Mr. Gray, it's been a while," she greeted back as I climbed up the marble steps to the front door of the Stanford's family home. "Does anyone besides Miss Preston's family and yours know about her admittance to this institute?" she asked.
I frowned. "No. Just William, Scarlet, and me. Is something wrong?"
"She's been receiving letters recently," she sighed deeply. "I've emailed you pictures of the letters and the envelopes that were used. If you have the time, please do check it out."
"I'll do that," I said, walking through the empty living room to the indoor lift. "In the meantime, please increase the security around her."
"I will, Mr. Gray."
I ended the call and went straight to my email, immediately opening Doctor Martin's message. I leaned against a pillar and scrolled through all the pictures. The envelopes were all the same: plain red with golden lace trimmings on the edges. But what fully caught my attention was the insignia used — a burning rose. My forehead creased at the coincidence.
Was it really just that? Or was it a clue to the nightmares I used to get? The nightmares that urged me to have my arm inked with an image of a burning rose.
I skimmed through a few letters, noting the name inscribed at the bottom of each paper. I hadn't heard or read of that name before. But something about it seemed familiar.
Letting out a breath, I slipped my phone back into my pocket before stepping inside the lift. I pressed the button to the third floor and crossed my arms, shutting my eyes to calm the fuck down. I would have to look into that matter once this thing with my father was done.
I entered my father's office, keeping a smooth expression on my face. He was standing by the glass windows that overlooked the back of the house.
My father was a man who emitted dominance wherever he went, and respect came to him without him having to ask for it. One would assume that a person as influential as him would have a great deal of loyal people on his feet, but the reality was a far cry. People bowed willingly for the rich and powerful out of fear. It was only in rare moments that one would bow in true loyalty.
