Welcome to FROST HARROW Book 3. (No previous reading required.) Please support my work via Patreon at www.PaySteve.com. Enjoy!
TWENTY-FOUR – DANIEL FROST
Daniel Frost picked up the half-full snifter of brandy and tossed it across his study. It smashed spectacularly against the back of the hearth, and glass rained down into the fireplace. The liquor went up in a blue flash as it hit the flames.
He silently cursed the day young Winslow had returned to town—his town.
His niece hadn’t been the same since. She hardly listened to him anymore. It was if she didn’t care what he thought, didn’t care that he was the head of the Frost family. It was almost as though she’d become one of his own children.
No, that’s not fair, he reminded himself. Dexter and Lydia are fine children. Dependable. Obedient. Anthony has his days, too.
Colin and Morgan were, of course, irredeemable—or nearly so. What was it someone once said? “I assume they have all the usual vices plus a few they may have invented on their own.” Or something like that. Was that from a movie, or a book? Daniel couldn’t remember.
It hardly mattered now, anyway. His two corrupt children weren’t the problem right now; Ivy was.
Ivy who had recently become more like her father than was healthy for the family. Or for herself.
God only knows what kind of ideas young Winslow has put in her head, Daniel thought. For a moment, the moment when he flung the glass, Daniel Frost had felt impotent—powerless to stop his niece as she ran pell-mell down the road to ruination.
Then a calm came over his mind. With it came determination. The same determination that had dragged the family business back from the ruin his father had left it in and made the Frost name one to be respected—and feared—again.
Daniel Frost had done it all, single-handedly. And no slip of a girl or young upstart would get the better of him. Especially not a Winslow upstart.
No. Daniel Frost was a better man than his father, and he seldom tired of proving it.
He crossed to his huge oak desk and picked up the black phone with gold trim.
So what if he had to call in a few old markers to achieve his ends? Getting Winslow out of their lives would be worth it.
At the very least, he could complicate Winslow’s life—make things more difficult for him. Then maybe the pup would concentrate more on his own troubles, and less on Ivy Frost.
In many ways, Daniel had little use for his niece. But she was, in the end, still a Frost. She deserved better than a Winslow could hope to give her.
Daniel stabbed the two digits on his auto dialer that would put him in touch with a friend in Washington.
That friend, in turn, would reach out to a few well-placed contacts and they, in turn, would send their dogs after Grant Winslow.