Three Sisters

O. J. Mullen

Description

'A brilliant story from a masterful storyteller.' Anita Waller

One chance meeting. A night that changes everything.

The Kennedy sisters, Molly, Alex and Sam, have a Christmas tradition – a night out, just the three of them, sisters together.

Lewis Stone can’t face the work Christmas party, but as he’s one of the bosses, he has to put in an appearance. He leaves as soon as he can politely get away, ready for the holidays to begin.

When Lewis Stone meets the Kennedy sisters, a train of events begins that engulfs them all.

One sister is left fighting for her life.

One sister is left fighting for her marriage.

And one sister is hellbent on revenge…

The brilliant new psychological thriller from bestseller O.J. Mullen. Perfect for fans of T. M. Logan, B.A. Paris, Sue Watson and K.L. Slater.

'A superb rollercoaster of a read. Gripping to the very last page!' J.A. Baker

‘A gripping story with a totally unexpected ending. Loved it.’ Valerie Keogh

What readers are saying about O.J. Mullen:

‘Be warned. From the minute you start reading this book your time will not be your own. It is a brilliant book that reels you in from the start. The characters are so well portrayed that they feel real. - that you would recognise them if they passed you in the street. The plot is wicked, intricate and completely believable. What more could you ask from a book?’

‘What I really love about Owen’s writing is it’s perfect.. utterly engrossing, dark and gritty. It’s the tone…I don’t know how he does it but the style of writing is exactly what I want to see.. it’s the grittiness.. the realness.. the depth to the characters.. utter WOW!’

‘An absolute first class book. Yet again this talented author delivers a gripping rollercoaster of a read.’

‘Thrills, suspense, and drama are the order of the day and you won't be able to tear yourself away from it.’

Sujets

• Policier & Thriller
• Thriller
• Psychological
• Holidays
• Siblings
• Thrillers
• Suspenso
• Psychological thriller
• Sibling
• Psychology
• Family Life
• Suspense
• Christmas
• Noir
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Boldwood Books
• Date de parution: 26 juillet 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781837515028
• Langue: English

Extrait

THREE SISTERS


O. J. MULLEN
CONTENTS



Prologue


Part I


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18


Part II


Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56


Part III


Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Epilogue


Acknowledgments

More from O. J. Mullen

About the Author

The Murder List

About Boldwood Books
Catherine Campbell
Love you, sis
PROLOGUE
GREAT WESTERN ROAD, GLASGOW



19 December

Lewis Stone was angrier than he’d been in his life.
It was after midnight. The party would carry on into the wee hours for those with the stamina to go the distance. Tonight, he wasn’t that man. As he was leaving, the muted strains of Abba’s ‘Dancing Queen’ followed him to his car. He drew his coat tightly round him against the freezing air, carefully testing each step on the road glistening like glass in the sub-zero temperatures. Parties, especially Christmas staff parties with an open bar, were better avoided. This one was supposed to be a ‘thank you’ to the workforce for another successful year. It should’ve been fun. Instead, because of the antics of his business partner, Damian Morton, it had descended into a fiasco that might well have serious consequences further down the line.
Some inquisitive bright spark had discovered Damian and a female colleague behind a room divider and imagined it was a great idea to take the screen away so the crowd could watch them going at it on top of a table. Their clothes were on the floor, abandoned in the moment – blind drunk, the couple hadn’t realised they could be seen and had carried on frantically doing what they were doing: the woman had her legs wrapped round her lover; her head was back and her eyes were closed. His teeth were gritted with lust, the veins in his neck bulging under the skin. Their climax was met with laughter and thunderous applause from the audience and, with the aplomb of the truly pissed, Damian had taken a bow before they’d run from the room to catcalls and lewd comments.
People had enjoyed the show; they’d thought it was funny. Lewis hadn’t been one of them, although he knew it was no more than alcohol-driven high jinks, the kind of scene played all over the country at these events, regretted in the cold light of day. In the twenty-first century, having sex with a junior member of staff was problematic and exposed an employer to accusations of sexual harassment and exploitation, industrial tribunals and the negative publicity that went with them.
But it wasn’t just that. Damian had lost the plot tonight, not once but twice.
In recent months they’d been in talks with the giant American retailer Lassiter-Accardi about a potential deal that would be a game changer if it came off. Overnight, Stone Free’s iconic lines would be on rails and shelves in hundreds of outlets worldwide from Campbeltown to Cape Town. Lewis and Damian’s ‘baby’ would become a brand name and the dream they’d had as hungry young fashion designers in Glasgow would be a reality.
But nothing was signed. Until it was, confidentiality was vital; a leak might well sink the whole thing. When the ink was dry on the contracts a joint press release would break the news to the media. That was the plan, or it had been before an inebriated Damian staggered onto the small stage, wrestled the microphone from the DJ and, in a few slurred sentences, trashed everything they’d agreed.
Under the lights, his face was sweaty and twisted by booze. Beside him, Tina, his accomplice, grinned stupidly, the public exhibition of their passion apparently forgotten.
Damian put a finger to his lips. ‘Shhh! Fucking shhh, will you? Got a Christmas secret for you.’
Another voice yelled, ‘No, you don’t. We’ve seen her!’
‘Got your hands full there, mate!’
At the back of the room, alone at the bar, Lewis wondered just how much more degrading it could get and wished he weren’t there to see it. When he realised where Damian’s little speech was going, it was already too late.
Damian boomed into the mic. ‘Stone Free’s heading for the big time. Lassiter-Accardi wants us. Yeah! They know quality when they see it and want to take us on. So, get those summer holidays booked.’
Most of the people were drunk or getting there and didn’t understand what he was talking about; it didn’t stop them cheering. Beside him, Tina stifled a giggle. Lewis saw it and fought an urge to haul his mate off the stage and beat some sense into him. The state of play with Lassiter-Accardi was confidential, yet his ‘girlfriend’ was in on it; the irresponsible idiot had obviously told her.
Damian swayed and waved a limp arm at the room. ‘This year’s been great. The next twelve months are going to be even better. Trust me. Can’t say more. I can’t. Lewis will kill me.’
Lewis felt eyes watching him and knew that this wasn’t the moment to show emotion. The DJ took over. Loud music ended the wayward lovers’ moment in the sun; they stepped off the stage and disappeared into a sea of bobbing heads. Lewis balled his fist impotently at his side. Tomorrow his partner wouldn’t remember much about his little speech, but on Monday morning they’d be having a frank conversation; some hard talking would be done, home truths that shouldn’t have to be said would be.
Lewis wasn’t interested in excuses – there were no fucking excuses. If it had been somebody else, anybody else, behaving the way he’d behaved tonight, they’d be looking for a new job.
Lewis was heading for the door when a female voice stopped him. ‘You don’t look like a guy who’s enjoying himself.’
Blue eyes in a pretty heart-shaped face studied him. Long red hair fell to luminescent bone-white skin revealed by the swell of her breasts beneath an off-the-shoulder leopard-print blouse, a perfect match for the black leather skirt hugging her slender thighs.
On another night he’d have been more than happy to find out more about this lady with the cheeky attitude, but Damian’s tacky indiscretions had soured his mood. Lewis said, ‘Really? I thought I was making a pretty good job of disguising it. How did you guess?’
She edged closer until they were almost touching. ‘Maybe I’m psychic.’ She held out her hand. ‘Mari, pleased to meet you, Mr Stone. Can I buy you a drink?’
‘No need, it’s free.’
‘Even better.’
‘I’m leaving, so no, thank you.’
‘Are you sure?’
It was impossible to misunderstand the meaning behind her question and, in spite of his anger at Damian, he felt himself respond. ‘Have we met? I ask because I don’t recognise you but you know who I am.’
She smiled and let her arm brush gently against him. ‘I’d be surprised if there was anybody here who didn’t.’
‘There’s a difference. They work for Stone Free, you—’
‘That’s right. I shouldn’t really be here.’
‘Then, why are you?’
‘A friend brought me. I hope you don’t mind.’
Lewis didn’t mind. If he hadn’t been in such a foul temper he would’ve shown her how much. He said, ‘Of course not, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.’
She reminded him. ‘Mari.’
‘Mari, yes. But, as I said, I’m leaving.’
She tilted her head and looked up at him. ‘Are you telling a girl willing to gate-crash your party you haven’t time to dance with her? Surely not, Mr Stone?’
‘Don’t take it personally.’
She ran her fingers suggestively along his lapel. ‘If you won’t dance… there must be something we can do. Give me a minute to get my coat and I’ll come with you. We can think about what it might be on the way to your place.’
She kissed him on the lips; he caught notes of mandarin and fig in her scent mixed with something cool and green, and almost gave in. Almost.



* * *
He pointed the red Golf GTI towards the West End and gunned the 2.0L four-cylinder turbocharged engine, already regretting turning the woman down; he could’ve been taking her to his bedroom instead of going home alone. The conversation had been brief but enough to discover three things: her name was Mari, she didn’t work for Stone Free, and she wanted him. All he’d needed to do was forget about his partner, Lassiter-Accardi, and bloody Stone Free for a few hours and match her lust with his own.
The traffic lights at the junction of Byres Road and Queen Margaret Drive forced him to wait. Lewis drummed his fingers impatiently on the steering column, still thinking about Mari’s blatant sensuality. Damian had made an idiot of himself and endangered the deal with the Americans with behaviour that had been tawdry and indefensible. But at least he knew how to let go. How to enjoy himself. Stone Free was a voracious beast that had demanded everything they’d had, taking and taking until there was nothing left.
It was time Lewis learned to live a little.
Christmas was six days away. Glasgow was in party mood – he might as well join in. He opened the window, slipped a Bon Jovi Greatest Hits CD into the player, and turned the volume all the way up. ‘You Give Love a Bad Name’ blasted from the speakers. What would her reaction be if he suddenly reappeared – would some other horny bastard have made a move, already be cha