The Duke's Sins | ongoing

To Hunt

7~to hunt

My attention shifted back to the man before me. His stark blue eyes held maturity and experience but there wasn't an ounce of fear awash in the depths of his azure shades—just curiosity.

He held a hand up, lowering his fingers and the men dropped their guns obediently.

"So," I tapped his badge, glancing over his name. "What do you want from me, Smith?"

He pulled a chair across, the wooden legs dragging across the uneven concrete slabs of the floor. "I've been dying to meet you," he said.

"I can tell," I glowered, nursing my sore wrists.

"I do apologise. We just have a few questions."

"This isn't how we question in our industry." I took in the steely metal of their guns. "But you're not working for the industry, are you?"

"We work for the royal family."

I narrowed my eyes, opening my mouth to object only for him to intervene.

"Just one question, Sphinx. And then we'll let you go."

I felt my temper rise, my impatience obvious in my glare.

"Hypothetically speaking, let's say that I walked out of here right now." His men tensed up. "And, of course, hypothetically speaking, we'd have to count the number of people I'd injure in the process."

I traced my eyes around the men slowly—deliberately. "You'd go down." I pointed at the one towering above my chair. He shuffled back and I tried hopelessly to keep my grin from growing.

My grin disappeared as Smith spoke, dread weaving through my guts, "You're right. We're under strict orders for no harm to come upon you."

I swallowed. Cocking my head to the side, I glanced at the device cushioned in his ear before shooting a quick look up at the corners of the stuffy room. My breath hitched in my throat as I spotted the camera, the realisation hitting me.

They were definitely not working for the royal family.

I dropped back into the chair. "Tell me who you're really working for and then we'll talk about your questions."

He put his hands behind his back. "We work for the country. For the peace and prosperity o—"

"That's enough," I interrupted him, unsettled by the confidence with which he spoke. He either had the entire building sized up with security or had no idea that I worked for the same country he claimed to have received orders from.

My grip tightened around the armrests of the seat. "What do you want to know?"

He leaned forwards, watching me carefully. "Where's the Duke, Delilah?"

With my mind racing to find him an answer, I weighed up the odds of my survival if I decided to make a run for it. Quite frankly, I didn't know where the Duke was—but the men clad in a threatening shade of threatening black, with their threatening weapons and threatening looks didn't look like they'd be over the moon if I simply told them so.

Nevertheless, I took my chances.

"I haven't seen the Duke in a year."

He remained motionless before me, repeating himself, "Where's the Duke?"

I felt sweat pierce through my pores, my nerves racing. Pushing an easy smile past my demeanour, I began, "Why don't I start from the beginning?"

I wasn't going to tell the man in front of me anything. Information is the most dangerous thing one can possess and to hand it over is the act of a fool.