I’m a sparking fuse dangling over gasoline as I make my way to his hotel. Hot off the kill from the other day, I’ve been unable to quell the viperous animal inside me. It’s spitting at me to fix my own unresolved issue—the way I handled Elizabeth’s for her. But I will go to any length possible to ensure Elizabeth’s safety. I failed to protect her from Matt putting a hit on her—I won’t fail again.
With my pistol holstered under my suit jacket, I step off the elevator and make my way down to his room. After a couple swift knocks, the door opens, and I whip out my gun, barreling the muzzle into Lachlan’s forehead. I use the force of the gun to push him into the room and then kick the door closed.
“What the hell?” His wide eyes are consumed with sheer horror and fear.
I back him up as he lifts his hands in surrender, and when he falls back into a chair, I hiss venomously, “I’m going to give you one more chance to tell me what the fuck you are doing talking to Camilla and my father before I put a bullet in your head. You’ve seen me do it before, so make no mistake, I will do it again.”
“What I told you was the truth.” His words tremble just as his hands do.
“And now I’m demanding the whole truth.”
I bring my thumb up and engage the hammer, chambering a round, and he gives in to the fear like a whore’s *.
“Jesus! Okay! Okay!”
“I’m not fucking around!”
“Shit, okay. Please, relax with the gun, man,” he blurts out in a panic. “I’ll tell you everything, just . . .”
“Start talking!” My bark is pure sulfur, and he’s terrified as he squirms, slipping down into the chair. “Now!”
“I’m stealing from Cal,” he jabbers out instantly.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I’m . . . It’s . . . The thing is—”
“Goddammit!”
“I can’t fucking think with a gun to my head!” he hollers from his slouched position in the chair, and I draw the gun back, keeping it targeted on him. His eyes never stray from my weapon. I stand a few feet back and watch as he clumsily sits up.
“Start talking.”
“Camilla called me when your father was arrested. When she realized the evidence was stacked against him, she knew she’d be left out to dry without a penny. She called me, told me her crazy scheme to embezzle his money. She had it all planned out. Told me to reach out to him. She figured he’d be desperate to have someone in his corner, and aside from the fallout we had when I found out about the two of them, I was, in fact, a man he had thoroughly trusted for years.”
“Speed it up.”
“I reached out to him with the help of Camilla, and before I knew it, he was wanting me to keep an eye on you, which was when I started reporting to him about you,” he confesses.
“You told him about Elizabeth?”
“Yes.”
“Get to the part that’s going to save your life and spare me the headache of cleaning up your murder,” I threaten.
“Camilla convinced him to trust me to launder his hidden assets through your charity foundation. She vowed we’d split it fifty-fifty, but I had my own plans. I promise you I never filtered any of that money through any of your businesses.”
“Where is it?”
“With a junket in Macau.”
I disengage the hammer and lower my pistol, and Lachlan drops his hands and releases a heavy breath of relief.
“I never lied when I assured you have my loyalty. You and Elizabeth, but never your father, and if that’s an issue with us then—”
“It’s not an issue. He’s done,” I tell him and then take a moment to process the fact that this man has taken it upon himself to undermine my father and his girlfriend for financial gain in the name of revenge.
“This is why Camilla keeps calling. I had to keep her believing that we were on the mend and working together, but I just got word the other day that he’s been indicted. It’s only a matter of time before he confesses. He knows he’s safer in prison than out. If he allows this to go to trial, it won’t matter if he wins or loses—he’s a dead man.”
He’s right. I know him admitting his guilt to forego a trial will be inevitable. A trial would mean witnesses and handing over names. It would be him turning his back on those only a man with a death wish would do. Which is why I refuse to allow Elizabeth to get worked up about her crimes being uncovered.
“I need you to go back. You said the money was with a junket?” I ask. “I’m not skilled in the world of embezzling, so I need you to tell me what’s going on. No more bullshitting me.”
“Working in the world of finance all my life, I’ve come to know a handful of shifty people. One of them was able to hire me a junket in China. For a twenty percent fee, he exchanges my cash for poker chips. With Macau being the casino capital of the world and Hong Kong having so many intermediaries that are willing to transfer funds to anywhere without asking too many questions, it was my safest option.”
“What happens with the chips?”
“My junket gambles a little and then cashes them in along with other gamblers’ legitimate chips. The casino accountant then books my money as paid-out winnings.”
“Where does the money go?”