Broken Legacy(Dark Legacy #3) - Jaymin Eve


Shock held me immobile for many long moments. I’d just seen Catherine Deboise—my birth mother—kissing her brother. Graeme Huntley. And not a kiss-on-the-cheek-happy-to-see-family sort of kiss. Nope. This was some Game of Thrones, incest as fuck, brother and sister making out.

My stomach lurched, and I swallowed hard to stop the bile from rising any farther.

A million questions ran through my head, and the general theme was making my stomach churn even harder.

Was I the product of an incestuous relationship?

Was Oscar?

Did Richard know about the relationship?

Was Catherine the spy?

She had to be the spy.

She was kissing the man who ran the company trying to destroy Delta. What the fuck else could that mean?

After Graeme left in a rush of expensive sports car, I remained where I was, pressed into the grass of the Deboise estate, hidden behind some well-trimmed hedges. Thankfully, Catherine didn’t linger on her doorstep, returning inside before his car had even cleared the gate. Somehow, she hadn’t figured out that I was out here—for once, the laziness of the guards was working in my favor.

Or maybe Richard told them not to announce me. Who knew what that crazy bastard was up to?

A slight scuff of dirt behind me alerted me to the new presence, and I managed not to scream as I swung my head toward the noise, already reaching for the gun tucked into the front pocket of my hoodie.

Their faces were creased in hard, angry lines.

“Riley,” Beck murmured, his gaze running across me like he was assessing for injuries. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Dylan was right beside him, both of them in a similar position to me, pressed close to the ground.

“I came to see Catherine,” I started breathlessly. “I was going to confront her about Dante. Get the truth out of that slimy bitch.”

I sounded shocked, my voice vapid.

Beck immediately noticed. “What happened?” he demanded, somehow managing to keep his voice low despite his obvious pissed-off-ness.

“Catherine and Graeme,” I whispered, the images of them kissing strong in my mind. “Catherine and fucking Graeme Huntley,” I finished louder.

Both guys turned to look toward the impressive mansion, their eyes tracking in that hunter survivalist way they had.

“I thought that was his car,” Beck muttered, “when we were jumping the fence.”

I nodded like a bobble-head toy. “Yep, he just left.”

“She’s in shock,” Dylan said softly. “We need to get her out of here. Give her a chance to calm down.”

Beck found his feet and lifted me with ease, cradling me against his chest.

“What about Catherine?” I gasped, because we were not hiding at all.

Beck made a disparaging sound. “Fuck Catherine. She doesn’t scare us. We were in stealth mode until we knew you were okay, but now...”

Fair enough.

He followed Dylan; they moved fast and soundlessly, able to step in just the right way as to not create any sort of disturbance. I did not have this skill. Which was the only reason I didn’t ask him to put me down. Right now my body felt like jelly, and I’d probably trip and break another limb if I was left to my own devices.

I gave Dylan the front gate code, and he entered it so we could leave. Beck’s Bugatti was parked right beside the butterfly, and he dropped me into the passenger seat before holding out a hand for my keys. He wanted Dylan to drive my car.

I started to shake my head—I was the one who drove the butterfly. She’d only just been returned to me after being totaled, and I was feeling a little possessive, but as my head spun, I realized that I wasn’t