Disgraced
The Filth Monger Series
Book 3
Annabel Chant
Blurb
The Filth Monger’s story draws to a dramatic close…
Sometimes, people conspire at their own destruction…
If Grace hadn’t been sure if she should trust Nathaniel before, now she’s damned sure she shouldn’t. His reputation is in tatters, his every step dogged by Detective Inspector Brown. The DI’s determined to pin something on him and, when further dodgy dealings come to light, it seems she might get her way.
With Aimee’s mysterious disappearance close to being solved, he knows he should leave Grace alone, despite his feelings for her. Her public persona remains intact, for the moment at least, and the last thing she needs is to be caught up in the ever-tightening net that has him in its grip.
Besides, she has enough problems of her own. Leo’s on a downward spiral and Kim’s heading into a tail spin to rival her own. Doing her best to keep everyone happy, Grace is drawn into a web of lies and, when she confronts Max head-on, it may be kill-or-cure time for Kim.
It’s time for Grace to confront her own behaviour, and her feelings for the man the whole country now knows as The Filth Monger. As secrets are revealed, more lives are threatened and Grace has a decision to make. If she abandons Nat now, she’ll save her reputation but lose the man she loves. If she stands by him, she just might be putting her life on the line.
Disgraced is Book 3 of the Filth Monger series. Due to adult themes and language, it is intended for a mature audience. The books need to be read in order. Book 1 – Falling from Grace – is also available on Amazon.
Dear Reader,
Thank you so much for reading Disgraced. If you enjoy it, please take a moment to let others know via a review on your local Amazon, such as Amazon.com or Amazon UK. Please note that Disgraced is the final (third) book in the Filth Monger series and they need to be read in order. Book 1 – Falling from Grace – is available on Amazon.
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Once again, thanks for reading – it’s so much appreciated.
Annabel x
One
Her
Murder and suspected murder.
Everything was a twisted blur from that moment until I got back to Liv’s. As Nathaniel was escorted from the room by the police, he shot me a smile over his shoulder but what it meant I couldn’t fathom. Was he trying to ingratiate himself with me, or mocking me?
I had no idea but, like an echo from a nightmare, his words from just a few minutes before came flooding back; I was going to tie you up.
No, I told myself. He wouldn’t be that stupid. Ronnie knew I was there. So, probably, did most of the staff, but that wasn’t as reassuring as it could’ve been. Their relationship was so peculiar, and she seemed to dote on him and know him so well, she could well have been in on it.
As for the staff, it seemed they were paid enough to ensure discretion wasn’t an issue. Christ, he could’ve been doing this sort of stuff for years. It would explain a lot about his “organisation”, and why he didn’t seem to get off on what was probably, to him, the mere set-up.
Was that what it was all about, his organisation? Was this how he picked his victims? It was as if a veil had been lifted on all my questions, and suddenly everything made perfect sense. Women like me came to him, in secret, to experience fantasies they wouldn’t tell anyone else about. No one would know they’d gone there. No one would know where to find them.
I was going to tie you up.
Prickles of cold ran all over me as I went back into the bedroom and grabbed my clothes, pulling them on as quickly as my trembling fingers would allow. His words kept playing, over and over, in my head, as I dressed.
I was sitting on the edge of the bed, struggling with the straps of my sandals, when Ronnie opened the bedroom door, and sauntered in. She stood there, regarding me pityingly, as I tried to pass them through the buckles.
‘Don’t be too hard on him,’ she said, as I finally managed to do up the second one. ‘He’s going to need your support.’
‘My support?’ My voice came out high-pitched and slightly hysterical. ‘Those girls…whoever they are…could’ve been me.’
I stood up and adjusted my dress. God, I was a mess, both inside and out. Just when I’d thought I might finally have sorted my life out – to some extent, at least – it’d turned into an episode from The Twilight Zone.
Ronnie didn’t reply right away. When she did, it was with an amused smile. ‘I hardly think so. I got the impression Nat was fond of you, at the very least.’
‘And the others? Was he fond of them, too?’ I ran my fingers through my hair, teasing out the tangles as best I could. I wanted them gone. Feeling them there reminded me of his shirt buttons, catching in my hair as he thrust into my mouth; his fingers, twisting tendrils of it as he drove into the very core of me. A shiver ran through my whole body again, at the memory.
‘The others?’ Ronnie shrugged. ‘Charlotte was…a pain in the ass, nothing more. Aimee…’ She walked over to the window and looked out towards the avenue of lime trees. ‘He was in love with Aimee, but she…’ She paused, as if searching for the right wording. ‘…was out of control.’
Aimee. I’d thought the name was familiar. She was the girl in the photo on the mantelpiece. The girl for whom he’d said he did everything. She’d been the first, then, seemingly. Charlotte was just some sort of sick tribute. Was she the only one, or were there others the police had yet to find?
I walked to the door. ‘I don’t see how I can be of any support,’ I said, desperate to get away from the Castle, from the whole crazy situation. ‘He’s just a…filth monger. I don’t even know him.’
Ronnie shrugged again. ‘I’ll get Stephens to drive you home,’ she said, following me. ‘But, you know, sometimes you have to take a chance on the people you love.’
Two
Her
The drive back seemed interminable. Stephens was silent, as always, but this time I felt it was a silence of disapproval – more so than ever I’d felt when he’d driven me to my disgrace. Somehow, Nathaniel still seemed to have the loyalty of his staff - not just their discretion.
I wondered when I’d be questioned over my involvement with him, and what that would do for my new-found fame if it were blasted across the media. I hardly cared. I was still too shell-shocked at how events had panned out.
I was also – and I hardly liked to admit it, even to myself – disappointed. I’d thought it was the start of the most perfect thing that had ever happened to me, but instead it was the end of one man’s murderous spree. It just showed how fragile anything perfect could be, and I’d dared to dream of perfection. Now those dreams were shattered – splintered into a million shards that sliced at my heart and my hopes until there was nothing left of them.
When we finally pulled up outside Liv’s, Stephens came around to open the door for me.
‘Thank you, Stephens,’ I said, getting out the car.
‘Ma’am.’ He gave me a brief nod, but didn’t go to get back in the car.
As I reached the front door, he called out to me. ‘Ma’am?’