Beauty Awakened

by Allyson Lindt

  “Send it to her as something you’d like to address at the next city council meeting,” Nathan suggested. “Then it looks benign, and you can gauge her reaction.

  Tara loved the way he thought. She typed up a quick email, included some recent sales information for reference, and clicked Send. “It’s not going to solve anything, either calling her out or filling her in, but it’ll be interesting to see where it goes.”

  That was one hell of a rabbit hole to tumble down. Tara’s brain was exhausted and wired at the same time. She needed another problem to work on, hopefully one that had an answer. She looked at Nick. “How do we help you?”

  “My issues are solved by selling more software and operating my business more efficiently.”

  “I didn’t think you could do anything not-efficiently.” Nathan’s retort was tired, but playful.

  Nick rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Including pissing off my sister.”

  Nope. This wouldn’t be where Tara found an easy-to-resolve problem.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Nathan wanted to walk away from this search, but every time he stopped, another idea slipped in and prompted him to look something else up. While he investigated, Nick and Tara were talking about how Nick should approach his business problems.

  “I need to figure out how to apologize. I don’t know where to start.” Nick sounded as tired as Nathan felt. The day was only half over and had already been exhausting.

  “With being sorry usually helps.” Nathan wasn’t being flippant. It seemed like people missed that a lot. He had.

  Tara laughed lightly. “And also, you don’t have to take all of this on yourself. She’s there for you, the same way you are for her.”

  “I know.” Nick said the words, but did he get it?

  Nathan was sympathetic toward Nick’s situation. Sure, the guy had been a bit of a dick, but overall he was trying. Any resentment Nathan had toward him was gone. These fights with family hurt both Tara and Nick.

  It was nothing like Nathan’s blood relatives. It was more like the anguish Nathan dealt with when he was fighting with Tara. Because she was family. It was easy to say, but the longer he was here, the more real it felt. Why had he taken so long to figure that out?

  Tara’s email chimed, and he snuck a peek at her screen. “You have a reply.” From Matilde. Already.

  “Let’s see what her royal highness has to say.” She raised her eyebrows and opened the message.

  Nathan waited a moment to give her time to read and translate. “Anything interesting?”

  “It came from her personal email, instead of the public one I sent my note to. I don’t think a lot of her terms translate well directly, but the gist is, Fuck you, psycho bitch. You’re insane, and this proves it.”

  That was direct. “Kind of sounds like she doesn’t know anything about it.”

  “Or she’s lying to cover her ass,” Nick said.

  Maybe. But it didn’t feel that way. It was too abrupt. “She’s not asking why we think this, or making any threats. It’s hard to tell from an email, though.”

  “So, once again, we have no answers.” Tara sounded frustrated.

  They didn’t. It was time to make their own. They could dig all they wanted into conspiracy and mass building purchases, but none of that helped their current situation. “So we’ll move. We’ll get a new place, in a district outside of their reach. We’ll make a new home, and set up a new business.” He hated saying that, but it was the obvious solution.”

  “This is our home. My family home.” Tara scowled.

  “I understand,” Nathan said kindly. “I don’t want to do it either. Your grandmother left this to you, and told you to pursue your dreams. You have. What you’ve built is bigger and grander and more amazing than I think she could have imagined. She’s got to be so proud of you, as she watches over you. But we don’t lose that by leaving, and anyplace we go is home.”

  Nick’s pursed lips and clenched jaw implied he wasn’t impressed by the heartfelt mini-speech. You’re letting these people win if you walk away.”

  Now who sounded like they were a fictional character? “It’s real life. We choose our battles. They don’t win if we walk away happy and secure.”

  “That’s literally what happens. If the point is to drive Tara out of her property, and prompt her to sell, sure her hating it is a nice side effect to someone who doesn’t like her, but it doesn’t seem to be the goal.”

  “I hate this.” Tara groaned the words. “I hate it so so much. Moving is a last resort. I’m not there yet.”

  Nathan didn’t see any other options. “Leaving doesn’t mean you have to sell. You can have a weekend-slash-vacation home.”

  Tara shook her head. “No. The subject is closed. I’m not leaving.”

  “At least look at other options. Not saying we need to consider them, just get an idea of what’s out there.” Nathan couldn’t drop this. She could fight the eviction, but that wouldn’t change the fact they couldn’t do business here.

  Tara looked at Nick. “Besides it being a matter of who wins, what do you think?”

  Nathan gritted his teeth. Nick didn’t live here.

  Except he did, and odds seemed good he was staying.

  “Facetiously?” Nick asked. “I think you should move back to Salt Lake City with me. Realistically, it’s not my decision to make, and I can only imagine how difficult it is.”

  “Nice answer. Diplomatic bullshit, as always.” Nathan’s own irritation surprised him.

  Nick stared back. “It’s not bullshit if it’s sincere.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to leave, and I fall in the we can’t let them win court. Fuck Marco and fuck Matilde.” Tara spoke with finality.

  And Nathan still wasn’t done. This wasn’t the way to move forward. “The moving option is already on the table, and we’ve done a fantastic job of examining the cons. I’m adding some pros to the list, and asking you not to rule anything out.” He let the it would be stupid to do anything else slide into his tone.

  Tara pinched the bridge of her nose. “Your thoughts are noted.”

  “Don’t take too long to decide,” Nathan said. “Pride isn’t the only thing on the line.”

  Tara pursed her lips and glared at him.

  TARA NEEDED TO WALK away from the conversation. She saw Nathan’s point, but she meant everything she said.

  Regardless of what they did next, they’d still need to do some filming here. Specifically the marathon livestream. The plan was to do what they could out in the courtyard behind her building. It would let them work in natural light, both for artistic reasons and to keep the eyestrain down, and they could show off their surroundings at the same time.

  She was finding the best place for the camera, to get them light for the longest period of time without dealing with glare. Usually Nathan did this, but she needed to clear her head.

  She’d aim the camera at a spot, draw for a little while, then go back and check the recording, before making adjustments.

  The bite in the air numbed her thoughts. The sunshine warmed her chilled skin. As she worked, her tension drained away.

  This was a good setup. They were going to get some amazing work in.

  “Bella.” The familiar voice sent unpleasant chills down her spine.

  She whirled to see Marco striding toward her, approaching from the street.

  “I’m glad I found you. We need to talk.” His tone was cool and his smile matched. The Italian rolled off his tongue like liquid venom encased in sugar.

  Every emotion spilled inside in a rancid wash. The memories of their friendship. Of falling in love. How lucky she felt to be seen on the arm of such a gorgeous man—and he more attractive in person than the cameras made him.

  It was all wrapped in bitterness, loathing, and furious caution. She gave him a thin smile. “I’m busy. Give me a call later. Maybe that will change.” Not likely. Not in this lifetime.

  He stepped closer, within
arm’s reach. The way he studied her gnawed at her thoughts and stomach. He had that dark, searing look that always terrified her when they were together.

  Not because he’d hit her—bruises and injuries were hard to hide—but the things he said... The cruel ways he’d twisted her own brain against her... Making her believe she wasn’t good enough. She was to blame for anything that went wrong.

  Tara wasn’t that person anymore. She squared her shoulders. She could tell him no, and walk away. She had questions of her own, though. “I’ll hear you out if you return the favor.”

  “Sure. Let’s negotiate. Why not?” An edge slid into his words. “I’ll go first. What the actual fuck are you doing?”

  “Drawing.” They couldn’t throw a fit about that, if that was why he was asking. She wasn’t doing business. Besides, they’d already pulled out their words. “My turn.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” He stepped closer. She silently cursed herself when she stepped back. “These insane accusations you sent to Matilde. What the fuck is that about?”

  Tara clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering. It wasn’t the weather that clawed like ice through her veins. “I sent Matilde a request to discuss building purchases at the next city council meeting. I didn’t accuse anyone of anything.” Implied, but not stated.

  “You never know when to quit.” He took another step.

  She stood her ground, but her heart hammered in her ears.

  His face was a stone mask. “I won’t let you take this from me, the way you’ve tried to ruin so much of my life.” The problem with his words was he spoke them with conviction. He believed what he said. It was one of the biggest reasons she struggled with doubt when they split up. “That list? Our divorce? None of that had to happen. All you had to do was smile for the cameras. I never asked anything else of you. Life would have been perfect for everyone if you’d played your part.”

  “Everyone except me.” It was all a lie anyway. He might see reality that way, but for Tara things were much different.

  “Even for you.” Marco stood close enough his heat floated toward her. “I wouldn’t have cared if you wanted to fuck Nathan, as long as you kept it out of the papers.”

  A lie. Not even a twist, but an outright fallacy. Marco had made it clear on many occasions that they weren’t supposed to see anyone else. Not even a hint of affection. Sleeping with other people was straight out. “You wanted me docile and submissive and by your side until you got bored with me for the evening.” Things she’d never had the strength to say to his face surged to the front of her mind, pushing to be heard. “I believed you back then. Anything you said. I know better now. I was your trophy. Nothing more. A pretty doll to make you look good. You never cared about me. You never gave a shit about my happiness. Don’t try to spin this like it was all for the greater good.”

  Anger flashed in his eyes, and his nostrils flared. “You’re wrong. Then again, that’s a habit for you. Blowing things out of proportion. Taking them out of context. Making everything about you. Why do you have to do that? If you wanted Nathan, you only had to ask.”

  “Ask permission to have an affair?” She let a barking laugh slip out. “You never asked. Why would the rules be different for you? You told me. Specifically said, no more seeing other people. That’s an entirely different universe from as long as we’re discreet.”

  “This is what I’m talking about. I never said that. That’s what you wanted to hear.” His tone was eerily calm, despite the hard fury creeping into his face. It was all moderately terrifying. “And now, these insane ideas about this property of yours. It wouldn’t even matter if you’d stayed with me. I’d already own it.”

  Did that mean her suspicions were true? “Now this is about the building?”

  “Of course it is. Why did you have to send that email? Matilde is upset. She didn’t need to know why I was seeing her. I could have owned all of this, and you and wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  Was that confirmation? It was sure as hell close. Not a confession, but Tara was struggling to sort through his gaslighting mixed with conflicting statements.

  She’d heard all she needed to, and certainly more than her psyche wanted to. It was time to walk away from this. “I’m done here.”

  She brushed past him, and he stepped in her path, bumping her shoulder with his. It was jarring enough to knock her off balance.

  “I’m not finished.” He swung a fist and connected with her gut.

  Tara gasped and doubled over in pain.

  He brought his heel down against the small of her back, and she crumbled to her knees. Then something hard connected with her ribs. Blackness danced at the edge of her vision, and tears leaked from her eyes.

  Someone was shouting. Was that her? No. She struggled to breathe. Everything hurt too much for her to process the world around her.

  Chapter Twenty

  Tara felt like someone was sitting on her chest. She struggled to draw a breath, and coughed at the agony that seared through her. Her ear felt like someone had jabbed a hot poker in it.

  “Easy. Don’t move. Don’t breathe deeply.” That was Antonio.

  What? She pried her eyes open, then snapped them shut again at the glare of bright light. “Where am I?” Her voice came out a dry croak.

  “The hospital.” He sounded worried.

  She blinked several times and this time managed to keep her eyes open. It wasn’t that bright in here after all. “Why? Everything hurts.”

  “Probably not everything.” Antonio’s laugh was strained. “Your upper thighs and arms are pretty clear of bruises. But, among other things, you have two bruised ribs, and a ruptured eardrum.”

  That explained why her chest felt like it was on fire. “Where’s Nathan? Nick?”

  “Stop talking, and I’ll tell you everything. Deal?”

  She nodded, then winced at the pain that rocketed through her skull. Her head was fuzzy. She’d been talking to Marco, and terrified. And then... did he hit her?

  “Nathan and Nick are in jail,” Antonio said.

  “What?” Tara bolted up, and immediately regretted it. She collapsed back in the bed with a gasp that sent lava racing across her chest.

  “You need to calm down.” Antonio pressed against her shoulder, pinning her in place. “Marco attacked you, they fought back. They’ve been arrested for assaulting a member of parliament.”

  Christ. Tara wanted to sob, but she didn’t want things to ache any more than they already did. Her hands flew to her stomach. “The baby?”

  “Okay, but there was some tearing. I’ll get the doctor in here to tell you more, but the short version is, the baby is fine, as long as you take it easy.”

  How was she supposed to do that?

  “Dad has a lawyer and a member of the US Embassy with him, and he’s at the police station. Your guys will be fine, which means they can crucify me if I let you out of this bed,” Antonio said.

  She had so many questions, but thinking hurt and breathing hurt and talking hurt. The important things were out of the way. If Dad had stepped in... She’d never been so relieved to hear that in her life. “Can I get anything for the pain?”

  “They’re being cautious, because of the baby, but they can give you some things. They’ve already sedated you twice, because you freaked out the first two times we tried to explain things to you.

  She didn’t remember that. Her brain was a giant cotton ball. “Marco?”

  Antonio shook his head. “Don’t ask. You can’t afford to freak out right now.”

  That was enough of an answer.

  “You’re awake.” Mom’s cry came from the doorway. A moment later her face appeared in Tara’s line of sight, and she wrapped Tara in a tentative hug. “How do you feel?”

  “Like an asshole in wingtips stomped on my chest.” Tara wanted to laugh at her own wittiness, but it hurt too much.

  Mom kissed her on the forehead, then turned to Antonio. “Take your sister’s keys a
nd meet your father at her house.”

  “Why? Where’s he going?” Tara didn’t want Antonio to leave. He’d give her answers and conversation instead of hovering and fussing over her.

  Though, Tara had to admit she preferred this attention to not speaking to Mom at all.

  “To get you some clothes, and let your men in,” her mom said.

  That was good. A sliver of good news in a shitty day. “Does that mean they’re out already?”

  Mom frowned, and spoke to Antonio again. “Go now. I’ll explain here, and Antonio Senior will explain to you.”

  Tara hated the sound of that. Nausea rolled inside. “Mom? What’s going on?”

  NATHAN PACED THE HOLDING cell. He didn’t care that his face hurt. He was glad his knuckles were cut. If the police hadn’t pulled him off Marco, he would have kept punching.

  Nick sat against the wall, watching and silent.

  Nathan had no idea how Nick wasn’t climbing the walls. They had no idea if Tara was all right. If the baby was okay. No one was giving them answers.

  If anything happened to her or that child, he didn’t care about the consequences—he’d hunt Marco down and skin him alive. Preferably while livestreaming the event.

  The venom in his own thoughts caught him off-guard, but the fury was real. It growled in his veins and hummed in his ears and lingered on the tip of his tongue.

  He’d actually wavered on whether or not he wanted to be a part of the baby’s life. What the fuck was wrong with him? How had he doubted? If he lost that chance because of that arrogant, narcissistic—

  “Do you want help?” Nick’s question cut through Nathan’s mental rambling.

  Nathan didn’t pause or look at him. “With what?”

  “I assume plotting someone’s death, from the look on your face. I’m all in.”

  Nathan’s laugh ended in a sob, and he sank down next to Nick, pulling his knees to his chest. “She has to be all right. They have to be all right.”

  “I know.” Nick sounded as tense as Nathan felt.