Love's Cunning Ruse novel Chapter 333

Julie had been waiting for what felt like an eternity, her anticipation simmering like a pot on the brink of boiling over. But when Rowan finally spoke, his response was a flippant, "Guess."

She nearly lost it, itching to argue with him but her common sense prevailed. Arguing with him who brandished a gun like it was as normal as breathing wasn't smart. So, she said, "Is toying with me considered a form of entertainment for you, Mr. Rowan?"

He didn't confirm or deny, his eyes, deep and starry, pinned on her, unblinking as if trying to peer into her soul.

Resigned to the fact he wouldn't spill the beans, Julie grabbed her purse and stood up.

"Here's a piece of advice, Mr. Rowan. Honesty can go a long way. Otherwise, you might find yourself friendless." She slapped a couple of twenties on the table, convinced she had been thoroughly duped by Rowan from start to finish.

Rowan pondered the cash on the table, his lips curving into an enigmatic smile, "Honesty?"

He savored the word, propping his chin on his hand as he studied Julie, "What's your definition of honesty, Miss Patriot?"

Julie bristled at the pseudonym, glaring down at Rowan, "So because I gave a fake name to someone who threatened me with a gun, I'm dishonest? How was I to know you wouldn't just shoot me and then track down my family to tie up loose ends? Better safe than sorry, right?"

She knew he was mocking her earlier dishonesty. But Julie wasn't a fool, and she got the hint.

Rowan tapped the table, inviting her to sit, "Let's talk."

Julie realized her outburst had drawn the attention of the café's other patrons. She lowered her voice, "There might be nothing left to discuss."

"Unfortunately for you, I do have something to talk about." Rowan's brows knitted together. "Shall we sit like civilized individuals, or should I have Kleist persuade you to sit?"

"I'd rather stand. Sitting might give me indigestion," Julie muttered under her breath.

Out of nowhere, Rowan produced a USB drive and slid it across the table towards her.

"Honesty," he said, eyes locked on the device, "Perhaps start by telling me where this came from, then we can revisit which parts of my earlier remarks were honest."

Julie eyed the USB suspiciously, "What's this?"

Her mind raced, recalling the mysterious package she had delivered to the Cardinal Hotel's room 2404 on Lucian's behalf. After scanning it, she and Kieran also knew that it contained a flash drive. She had seen Rowan outside that very room.

If the USB that Rowan handed her at this moment was the one inside the black box that Lucian asked her to send over, then Rowan...

Julie shook off the thought. Rowan had a keycard to 2403, not 2404.

"The one you delivered to Cardinal Hotel, remember?" he prompted.

That struck a chord.

"I left it at the door to 2404. Aren't you staying in 2403? Did you snoop on someone else's delivery?" She clung to a sliver of hope.

Rowan crushed her guess, "Kleist is in 2403. I'm in 2404."

So he had access to both rooms.

"Why didn't you confront me then?" Julie asked.

Rowan should have been able to see Julie leaving the box on the doorstep at that moment. She had assumed he didn't want to get involved. But now...

Before Rowan could answer, Julie snatched the USB, "What's on here?"

"You delivered it and don't know what's inside?" Rowan raised an eyebrow, then played coy. "Who asked you to deliver it?"

Julie almost blurted out Lucian's name but stopped short, mimicking Rowan's earlier evasiveness, "Tell me what’s on the USB, and I might tell you who asked me to deliver it."

Rowan chuckled at her earnestness, "Seems you're not as honest as you claim."

Julie remained silent, pocketing the USB. She'd find out on her own.

Distracting Rowan, she whispered, "You haven't been honest either. My mom always said honesty varies from person to person. If someone's honest with me, I should return the favor."

It was only then that Julie realized Julien was in the backseat. And a broadsword?

Julie’s nerves, previously wound tight, relaxed instantly. She couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurd image of her Kieran brandishing a broadsword against Rowan, a rare moment of humor from Julien.

Back at the coffee shop.

Even Kleist, sitting at the next table, had noticed Julie snatching the flash drive. He leaned towards Rowan and whispered, “Should we get that back, Mr. Rowan?”

Rowan waved him off dismissively, “No need.”

After a moment’s thought, Kleist remembered something important. “Mr. Rowan, we’ve found out what happened to Davina.”

“What’s the story?” Rowan took a sip of his coffee but kept his gaze fixed on the car where Kieran and Julie were now driving away.

Kleist, standing opposite Rowan, respectfully began to speak but was interrupted by a cold command, “Sit down and talk.”

Hesitating briefly, Kleist obliged, his voice low, “After Davina disappeared, Mr. Hayden had been relentlessly tracking her down. She was eventually found on the West Coast, barely alive. Her tendons were cut, and she had been repeatedly drugged, and forcibly detoxed multiple times.”

He paused, collecting himself before continuing, “And the wound from the previous gunshot never healed properly. It was festering.”

“How do you manage things?” Rowan’s gaze sharpened, cutting through Kleist with the edge of a blade. Even without uttering a word, his look sent shivers down Kleist’s spine.

He immediately stood, bowing his head in submission, “I failed in my duties. Please, Mr. Rowan, punish me.”

“Punish?” Rowan’s brow quirked, “Of course, there will be punishment.”

He exhaled slowly, “Is she dead?”

Kleist nodded, reporting truthfully, “Mr. Hayden’s men got Davina to a hospital, hanging by a thread. It was Miss Julie who later removed her life support. She's gone.”

“Since when have you started bungling even the simplest tasks?” Rowan rose to his feet, his cold eyes sweeping over Kleist.