She knew he meant trouble.
Yet she loved him.
When seventeen-year-old Quinn Sophia Richards leaves New York to live with her grand-aunt, Helen Deveraux in Blue Haven, Georgia, she is confronted with a dark life changing revelation : her whole life w...
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Dravon stood against the tree to admire the splendid lake in its deep turquoise blue setting —a glittering spectacle that he never failed to appreciate.
"Where have you been?" a voice nearby said. "I've been waiting for you for hours."
Dravon answered without turning around. "I believe that's none of your business, Shade." Hands in his pockets, he strode nearer to the lake. "I've already called for a reunion later. What's the use for this little chit-chat?"
Shade sighed. "I don't think Quinn is ready for this." Dravon turned to face him, one long eyebrow lifted questioningly. "I don't give a damn about what you think, Shade."
Shade shrugged, shook his head in objection and opened his mouth to protest. "She needs some space to adapt herself here, in Blue Haven. It's not easy for her."
Dravon hated the way Shade showed concern for Quinn. He clenched his fists in his pockets.
"It never is," Dravon muttered slowly, his face grim. "She will have to adapt herself." Dravon gave him a look like black ice. "This is her new life and she will have to accept it."
Shade held his icy glare. "You always think about yourself first."
"Doesn't everybody?"
Dravon gave him a sardonic grin. "I decide what I want and I get it." He stood facing him, his voice low and deadly. "And you should know better than to oppose me, Shade."
He turned and walked unhurriedly to the open convertible Mustang that was parked just beside the road. He leaned one elbow on the door, looking down. "I expect to see you later, Shade."
***
Quinn sat in front of the grave, still wrapped up in thoughts. She could not help but think of all the years she had spent as the daughter of Richards family when she never belonged with them. Kade was born just a day before her, on 24th June. So, her vision earlier that day had to be the truth. She was the outsider in the family.
Maybe that was the reason why Byron Richards never cared for her, always managing to create a hardcore barrier of coldness every time she needed him. That would also explain Helen Deveraux's dislike towards her.
Mechanically, she cleaned the grave, plucked a wild red rose and laid it on the rusty stone.
"Rest in peace Kade," she whispered. She barely stopped herself when the tears she's been holding ran down her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut, remembering all the good times she had spent with her mother. No, she can't afford to be weak. Not now.
Quinn felt a numbness in her body and a fullness in her throat. She couldn't stand to be here for one more second. She turned and walked as quickly as she could from the cairn.
A dim light shone in one of the ground floor's room. Her grand-aunt's room. Slowly, Quinn gathered the remaining ounces of strength left in her body and marched inside the house. Strangely, the door was left midway open. Helen Deveraux always kept her door locked. Quinn peered through it and saw her grand-aunt perfectly settled in her armchair, knitting a white sweater. This is the moment she most awaited for as she watched her composed granny. She badly needed to confirm the truth. She pushed the door wide open, stepped in, a nervous smile on her face.
