The Price of Winning: London Calling Book Four by Kat Faitour Page A

eyes wet and full of anguish.
    “Stop. Please, I can’t deal with all this.”
    “You can, and you must.” He squeezed her hand in reassurance. She was the one holding on to him now. “I have to go.” He rose, gently disentangling himself from her grasp.  
    When he reached the door, he looked back. She sat, still as stone, leaking with sorrow. He could see her trembling but forced himself to be strong.  
    “I’ll be back.”  
    Her strangled sobs followed him as the door quietly shut behind him.
    ***
    Sebastian stood in Madeleine’s bedroom, looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows. Behind him, the large team of movers he’d hired were packing her things into cardboard boxes. Most would make their way to a climate controlled storage unit he’d rented for the purpose.
    A few would be shipped to England, where he planned to install her in his estate on Jersey, under the watchful eye of Angeline.
    He could think of no one he trusted more to the task.  
    His phone vibrated in his pocket, reminding him he’d left her a voicemail earlier. He could count on one hand how many people had his personal number, Angeline being one.  
    His parents the other two.
    He answered while walking into the living area. “Angeline.” Not a question, but his usual greeting style.
    “Sebastian.” Subtle amusement tinged her voice. “Where are you?”
    He’d kept his travel plans to the U.S. to himself. Sebastian assumed he would have been a private man no matter what. But the events of his childhood had guaranteed it, embedding him with a cautious nature.  
    Some would even say suspicious.
    Of course, none of that mattered with Angeline. He thought of her as family, like a second mother to his own. He knew her, believed in her. More importantly, he depended on her.  
    “I’m in Chicago.”
    A gasp. “Were you near the attack?”
    He wasn’t surprised she knew about the tragedy. The U.S. had become all too known for its frequent episodes of mass violence, but the events still made headlines.  
    “Yes. In fact, I was in the building next door.” He was unexpectedly relieved to finally talk about it. “I was visiting Madeleine Price, as Dominic suggested. I’m not sure what’s been reported over there, but her parents died in the shooting.”
    “Oh no. That’s terrible news. Does Dominic know?”
    Sebastian rolled his eyes at mention of the other man. “Yes, we’ve been in contact daily. In fact, I just spoke to him earlier. I’m having Madeleine’s things packed and wanted to know if I should list the place.” Sebastian paced to the window to look down at the street. It was exactly where he’d stood with Madeleine on the day of the explosion.
    Next door, the bank was closed and shrouded in scaffolding. He’d heard they would rebuild with a memorial dedication. Surviving employees were on paid leave with counselors available round the clock.  
    The shooter had worked there for less than a year before being let go weeks before the attack. He’d been volatile and unreliable with both coworkers and clients. But no one predicted he was capable of such a horrific act as the one he planned and carried out.
    “What did he say?” Angeline brought Sebastian back to the present. “About selling?”
    He clicked his tongue, irritated. “He said no.” Sebastian was still perplexed by Dominic’s response. “He said it wasn’t his decision to make, and as Madeleine was in no current shape to do so, then we should pack it up and lock it down until she was.”
    “You sound irritated.” Angeline’s dry humor was restored. “But that sounds perfectly reasonable to me.”
    A loud thud sounded behind Sebastian. The lead man in charge of the packing stood surrounded by Madeleine’s things, boxed and ready to move. Seeing Sebastian on the phone, he raised his brow and waved a hand to encompass everything. Satisfied he had Sebastian’s attention, he cocked a thumb toward the door, silently asking whether it was okay to