Regretting any involvement she has, despite her figuring out Ridel is the hiding spot for Sub-Zero, I walk toward the security booth. Ted, a tall, dark-haired man in jeans and T-shirt, a gun at his hip, presents his badge and we head into a private office, where I update him on the failure of this operation. As my contact man he’s not any more pleased than I am, but full of assurances they’ll come up with another plan.
It’s an hour later when I finally pull into the Four Seasons hotel, having decided I’ve played too nice and too straight up. I can’t win that way, but I’ll find an answer that gets Adrian out of my company, and I have one thing my brother does not: My father is on my side now, and ironically, I guess I have my mother to thank for that. I might be farther from an answer to my Adrian Martina problem than I thought, but I’m closer to the head of the table.
But right now, my biggest challenge is facing Emily. The easiest thing to explain will be the blood and perfume on my shirt. The hardest will be that I’m now committed to working for a drug cartel, while my brother is committed to making sure the next knife is in my hand.
Lies destroy, but I fear the truth is worse. Maybe lies are better. Or maybe they aren’t.
EMILY
Somehow, I end up in black sweats and a tank top rather than pajamas, sitting in the middle of the floor of Shane’s office, leaning against the couch to the far left of the door, a laptop on the coffee table, and files all around it. I’m obsessing about a Brandon clothing and cosmetics line, loving the idea, and I try to focus on every way this is a good move, in order to present the plan to Shane. But my gaze keeps going to the time on the laptop, where I’m putting together spreadsheets on companies, historical profits, and success stories. It’s midnight, the moment the pumpkin is no longer a carriage and I feel a bit like Cinderella, dreading the loss of her prince, and I don’t like how it feels.
Twelve thirty comes and the door opens and closes, sending a rush of relief through me, but I force myself not to move. He’s home. He’s safe. We can talk, but rushing at him and demanding answers won’t help us as a couple at all. And I don’t want to be this nagging, demanding woman, who says Now, now, now. I want to be his partner in life, and that means he has to invite me into it. That means I might have to accept that he’s not ready to talk and that my need for immediacy is, at least in part, about me and my past, not him.
He appears in the doorway, oddly wearing a T-shirt with his dress pants. “Hey sweetheart,” he says, eyeing my work. “What are you working on so late?”
I move to sit on the edge of the couch. “I have this idea for Brandon Enterprises that I’m pretty excited about. I’m trying to make sure I give you reason to be as well.”
He leans on the door frame as if he isn’t overly anxious to come near me, and I’m not sure why or how to feel about that. “Cosmetics and clothing. Ties. Shoes. Purses. We could buy stock in a big company, but there are several growing brands with potential we could take over. It’s really not corruptible and we could have brands within the brand to hit price points, and ensure economic stability.”
“I like it,” he says quickly. “And I really like that you’re so excited about it.”
“I am,” I reply, and the silence that follows beats like my heart—unbearably heavy—and I blurt out. “Why are you dressed like that?”
“I was with Derek when he had a hand injury. He bled all over me.”
“Oh God. Is he okay?”
“He didn’t exactly invite me to the hospital with him.” He hesitates. “There’s another reason. There was an ordeal at the facility tonight. I went there, and Lana greeted me at the door by flinging her arms around me. There were witnesses. A camera, and I can—”
“I don’t need a camera or witnesses,” I say, no hesitation in my response. “I want to not feel what I feel right now. I want to stop thinking I’m my mother, with a rich man buying me things and keeping secrets.”
I’ve barely gotten the words out and Shane is in front of me, shoving back the coffee table and bringing me to my feet, his hands cupping my face. “Don’t do that to you, me, or us. Don’t make us them when we are not. I worked my ass off for my money that has no connection to my family and I invested it well. I won’t apologize for my money or finally having someone I want to spend it with or on.” He doesn’t give me time to digest that before he moves on. “As for secrets, I have none. I simply have things I wanted to fix before they scared you away.”
My heart squeezes with the emotion etched in his confessions and I flatten my hand on his chest, his heart thundering beneath my palm, telling a story of worry and trepidation. “This is me you’re talking to. You know my past. You can’t scare me away.”
He takes my hands in his. “We’re about to find out.”
More relief washes over me with those words and he sits, taking me to the couch with him, his hands settling on mine where they rest on my knees. “Let me cut to the chase. Tonight was all about a major effort that should have let me tell you what I’m about to tell you, and that I could have prefaced by saying that it’s over. It failed. It’s not over.”
“What isn’t over?”
“Derek got involved with a drug cartel who wanted to infiltrate a legal pharmaceutical company.”
“Oh God. That’s bad. Really bad.”
“Yes. It is. That Escalade belongs to Adrian Martina, the son of the kingpin, who is proving his value through us.”
“How are they using BP for illegal drugs?”
“There’s a new stimulant that isn’t detectable in testing, and they’re packaging it as one of our near defunct drugs. The story is long, but I hired men to stage an FBI raid that was intended to spook Adrian. It didn’t. He says if I want him out, I have to find a way to replace the profits for him.”
I study him for several beats. “And you agreed.”
“I didn’t agree, but it’s that or go to the FBI, which would ensure my brother goes to jail, and our company is tainted in a way we might not recover from. I bought a drug company, a corruptible entity, with my brother, who is corruptible. It was, perhaps, the biggest mistake of my life.”
“It’s not a mistake, Shane,” I insist. “This is not your fault. It’s your brother’s and he has to be stopped before he destroys us all. What happened to his hand?”
“Adrian put a knife in it.”
My eyes go wide. “Did it at least scare him?”
“No. It did not scare him.”
“Of course not,” I say. “It’s Derek. Can you sell BP?”
“Not without Adrian coming after me. Unless…”
His brow furrows and I press for more. “Unless?”
He refocuses on me. “You might have sparked an idea I need to work through, but not right now.” He softens his voice. “I can send you away until this is over. I can—”
I lean in and press my lips to his, my hand curling at his jaw. “Why would I leave you now, when you’re going through hell? Why would anyone who cares about someone else do that?”
He takes my hand in his again, and leans back to look at me. “It’s a drug cartel. They’re vicious. They’re dangerous.”