Prologue
The conclusion of DEVIL’S DEAL
Emma
As the solid doors to the house opened and we all progressed toward Rett’s front office, the soft music and Miss Guidry’s excitement mixed with loud voices coming from down the hall. Rett’s and Ian’s posture changed, our steps staggered, and Miss Guidry reached for my hand.
“Oh no,” she said, “Mrs. Ramses, come with me.”
Judge McBride seemed confused.
“You too, Judge McBride,” Miss Guidry said, trying to lead us back to from where we’d come.
I tried to make sense of what could be happening as the mixture of concern and anger radiated from my husband’s being.
The voices were close, near the grand staircase in the foyer.
It didn’t make any sense.
Who would be in Rett’s home—our home?
Henri, one of Rett’s men, came around the stairs. “Mr. Ramses, I’m sorry. They demanded to wait for you. They have been checked and are free of weapons.”
They?
Weapons?
“Ramses.” The loud call came from beyond our view.
Rett turned to me. “Emma, go with Miss Guidry. She’ll take you upstairs another way.” He looked at Judge McBride. “This won’t take long.”
I reached for Rett’s arm. “Will you be safe?”
“Yes, and so will you. Go.”
Miss Guidry seized my hand and tugged me back toward the courtyard. Before we could get another step, the loud voice called again.
“Ramses. Where is she? Your man is telling the truth, we’re not armed. Come meet me like a man.”
My fingers flew to my lips as I pulled away from Miss Guidry. I knew that voice. I’d grown up with that voice. For eighteen years we’d lived under the same roof until he left for college.
“He’s really alive.”
“Emma, go,” Rett commanded.
“No. Kyle said he isn’t armed. You won’t let him hurt me.” I didn’t even consider he was now going by a different name or what his men had done. He was my brother, Kyle O’Brien.
Rett seized my arm. “Not like this, Emma. Go.”
I pulled my arm away. “I may be your wife, but I can make my own decision.”
We both pivoted near the end of the staircase. In the large foyer, staring back at us were two men. No introduction was necessary for either. One was the man I’d thought was my brother. The other was the brother of the man in the picture Rett showed me when I first arrived. While his brother Greyson had died, by the evidence before us, Liam Ingalls was very much alive.
I sucked in my breath as my eyes opened wide.
“Fuck, Emma,” Kyle said, “tell me you didn’t marry him.”
My tongue faltered, forgetting how to speak as I stared at my brother. This was New Orleans; maybe he was a ghost or one of Miss Guidry’s spirits. However, I knew he wasn’t, and neither was the boy-turned-man beside him who’d taken my heart. Liam Ingalls had taken more than that. It was then I realized Rett had a pistol in his hand pointed at the two men.