Earlier. She noticed that.
“And then, in the months before you and I met, I was targeted as the eligible, desirable bachelor, and that type of attention quickly became disruptive.” He shook his head in distaste. “Women coming at me from every direction, my every move being watched by every person with a smartphone and a social media account. It's one thing to get the attention I do because of who I am. It's another to get that.”
“You let Robert choose.”
“I had no time and I trust his judgment. Or at least did.” He smiled.
“Yes, he got us both, didn’t he?”
“He was supposed to get me an unromantic socialite who cared more about her social status than marriage to play the part.”
“Instead he got you . . .”
“Instead he got me my wife,” he said, and she felt herself blush. ''That's the one thing I never expected.”
“Neither did I,” she said, her voice barely audible.
Her laptop beeped twice, and she turned her eyes to it and adjusted the parameters again. Good. She was now Brett’s shadow.
“It occurs to me that the woman doing what you’re doing there has never finished high-school,” he remarked.
“Good thing the only ones who know that are you and Jayden.”
“It certainly hasn’t stopped you. I'm impressed.” He thought a bit. “It also occurs to me that you’re younger than you said. You told Jayden you were seventeen, but you weren’t even sixteen yet.”
She shook her head.
“You told him you were seventeen in January. That’s when you escaped, isn’t it?”
She was quiet for a long time. “I was sixteen the following May. May twentieth,” she added softly.
He did the math. “You'll be four months shy of twenty-eight next January. Not thirty.” Which was what her employee record and Robert’s report had indicated.
She nodded.
“And you had a birthday shortly after we got married,” he said gently.
She said nothing.
“I'm glad you told me.”
She lay her head on the back of the sofa again, her gaze on him.
The decision was Ian’s, to remain in Sydney. Not because they might have needed Ivory again—Tess had decided she no longer needed the direct access. But he thought it was safer to stay there, where she would be less visible.
By the end of the next day Tess had Brett’s real point of origin figured out and knew exactly what he was doing, and she could set algorithms to begin tracking his web, to prepare to reverse what he had done. With nothing to do but wait until her trackers gave her what she needed, she let Ian convince her to go out to dinner at least once while they were there.
He took her to the Sydney branch of Antonio Torelli III, her favorite restaurant. This, at least, was simple. It was easy to ensure their privacy in the restaurant that he owned. The car stopped at a side entrance and they were ushered into a private room. They never saw the other diners, nor were they seen by them.
“Mmm,” she said, tasting the exquisite food.
“Something wrong?”
“Something right,” she said. “This tastes exactly like Antonio Torelli III.”
“We are at Antonio Torelli III.” He smiled.
“Our restaurant, the way Antonio himself cooks for us.” She loved his cooking and could easily tell. “But it can’t be, he's in . . .”
She stopped and looked at Ian, who was looking at her with an innocent twinkle in his eye.
“He's here. You flew him to Sydney.”
He nodded, enjoying her surprise and pleasure.
“You flew him all the way here for me?” The astonishment on her face was everything to him.
He called their waiter, and a short moment later Antonio walked in with a smile that widened when he saw Tess’s obvious pleasure at his food and at seeing him there. He joined them for a coffee and the dessert he himself had made, telling them happily that while he was cooking there for them that night, and was glad at the chance to visit one of his restaurants, he was mostly happy that he could bring his family along with him to Australia for an extended vacation.
When Antonio had left, Tess looked at Ian, laughing. “You’re something, you know.”
“I’m sorry we can’t do more than this. In other circumstances I would have taken you to see the city, but since we’re not supposed to be here . . .”
“This is enough. It’s more than enough.” She couldn’t believe he’d done this for her.
He did have the driver drive around the city in the dark of night, and when they returned to the apartment he took her up to the skyscraper’s rooftop, where she could stand on top of the world. She walked around the rooftop balcony, her gaze on the sweeping view of Sydney Harbour and the magnificent city stretching before her, taking it all in. It was breathtaking. She had never seen anything like this, never stood in such a place, never imagined that this, here, could, would be her. Finally, she stood in the middle of the rooftop, turned a full circle, then stopped and smiled at the man who stood not far from her, watching her, mesmerized by her.
She didn’t move as he walked toward her, his steps slow but not measured. Didn’t move as he came close to her and put his hands tenderly on her waist. Never moved away as he leaned in and gently touched his lips to hers. When their mouths parted, his brow remained on hers.
“May I do that again?” he asked softly.
She nodded.
His arms tightened around her and he kissed her again, deepening the kiss softly, parting her lips with his as she responded to him, as she tentatively put her arms around him. They stood on top of the world for a long time, their arms around each other, neither of them wanting to let go.
His arm was around her as they returned to the apartment, and as he kissed her good night, lingering, before they went into their separate rooms.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Gotcha,” Tess said.
Beside her on the sofa, Ian raised his head from his own work. “You got him?” She had worked the entire day—and the day before—without indicating what she was doing and without needing any information from him. It was her and the data, her and Brett Sevele’s tangle of webs that she was intent on destroying. Ian just stayed close, working beside her, leaving her only when he had a call to make.
And to prepare Robert for the eventuality that had now, apparently, arrived.
Tess nodded. “Him, his webs, and his inter-web links that he’s using to make up the encompassing web. And”—she typed some more, then looked at him, her eyes bright—“my webs are now forming alongside his in your subsidiaries.”
“How long will it take you to finish building them?”
“It no longer matters,” she said. “They’re there just to counter what he’s done so that nothing will remain, not a trace. They will be a mirror image of every change he’s made. What’s more important is that I’ve also already put in place my own point of origin.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that from now on, if he decides to trigger his point of origin he will no longer be activating the secondary one that implicates you, or the web that he already has in place. Instead, he will be triggering my point of origin, which will in turn activate my webs that are designed to counter his, to undo everything he’s done. And as for that secondary point of origin, yours, he will be destroying it, it will be gone without a trace. It’s a dead end for him.” Her eyes were golden ice. “Ian, he no longer has control of what he’s done to your company. You’re safe.”
God, he thought. It’s scary, how smart she is. “Won’t he know it?”
“No. He receives diagnostic feedback from his thread-forming routines while his webs are being built throughout Ian Blackwell Holdings’ subsidiaries and as they interconnect to form the encompassing web. I’ve made sure that feedback is not disturbed, and that it doesn’t register and report to him what I’m doing.”
He nodded. “Thank you,�
�� he said.
“I still have to watch him as long as he’s free, and see what he does when he realizes his plan has failed. He’s smart enough and mad enough to do something that could hurt you.” The ice her eyes deepened. “And there’s something else I still want to do.” She wasn’t done with Brett Sevele.
“And yet, thank you.” Ian’s brow furrowed. “I never imagined, when I came up with the idea of this marriage, that the woman who would be my wife would end up saving everything I’ve built. But then, there’s much I hadn’t expected that this marriage is proving to be.” He got up, a finality to his movements. “We’re not going to let Brett decide when to pull his trigger. I’ve placed some triggers of my own, and now that you’ve neutralized him it’s time to pull them.” He took out his phone and left to make a call. As he passed by her, his hand brushed hers, holding it for a lingering moment.
Tess came out of her room early the next morning to find Graham alone in the kitchen, humming to himself. The breakfast table was set for two, not three.
She stopped and looked at it. “He left,” she said.
Graham turned around. “Mrs. Blackwell! Good morning. Didn’t hear you there.”
“Mr. Blackwell has left,” she repeated, her brow furrowed.
“Yes, just a few hours ago. He flew back to . . . eh, take care of Mr. Sevele, he said.” Graham went to the living room and returned holding something in his hand.
“Why didn’t he tell me? And why does he have to do this himself, can’t Robert do it?” And why didn’t he take me with him, she didn’t ask. There was no longer need for her to remain in Sydney.
“Mr. Blackwell said he’ll call to explain.” Graham handed her what he was holding in his hand.
She took the long box and opened it. There was a flower inside, a single, beautiful, fresh red rose. A note lay on top of it. She took it out and read it.
“I already miss you,” it said.
He called a half an hour later from the jet. She wasn’t angry, he saw. But then he hadn’t expected her to be. She did look at a loss, though, and that he had expected. He’d simply disappeared, leaving her halfway across the world from home.
“I expect to land in San Francisco at around midnight there,” he began. “Robert will pick me up at the airport and I’ll be staying at his and Muriel’s place, it will reduce the chance of Brett finding out I’m back.”
She said nothing.
“Brett will be picked up in the early hours of the morning. He’s already being followed so he’s not likely to run, but he might have time to try to cause the damage he wanted.”
“He won’t succeed. I’ll be watching him.”
“I know,” Ian said. “Tess, I’m sorry I left this way, without telling you.” It burned in him to say this, to be personal. He would have started with the personal, but this was a first for him, too.
“Why did you?” Her voice was quiet. And she really was just asking.
“Because you would have wanted to come with me. Tess, he’ll be picked up, and I’ll give my official statement at Robert’s house, everyone who needs it will be there.”
Which meant, she knew, the relevant authorities, and Ian Blackwell Holdings’ legal team, whoever Robert would decide to use. And, naturally, Robert would also be acting as Ian’s personal attorney, since Brett’s attack was aimed not only at the company but also at Ian personally, and at her—
At her. Now she understood.
“Once it’s over, I will issue a public statement. This way it will come directly from me. Of course, no one will ever know how far Brett has ventured into Ian Blackwell Holdings, or his exact plan. There is more than enough without it, you’ve taken care of that with the evidence you’ve prepared along the way, and in the days since we’ve known he was behind it I’ve had people uncover additional illegal activity rigged toward what he was doing. And—”
“And power goes a long way toward getting what you want.”
“Yes,” he said evenly.
“Toward keeping me out of this. Toward protecting me.”
He said nothing.
“This is all about protecting me,” she said incredulously.
“Just as everything you have done has been about protecting me, Tess. That was the first thing you thought about after he attacked you. It was what you’ve cared about all along.” His voice was quiet.
“I guess we’re the same,” she said.
“I guess we’re the same for each other.” His eyes were on hers. “I’ll be staying in San Francisco for as long as I’m needed, to make sure the authorities have what they need to hold Brett and that there are no speculations that can hurt the company. I’ll let you know what’s happening, I promise, and when it’s over I’ll come back. In the meantime, please stay in the apartment with Graham. The news is bound to get there, even though Ivory’s involvement won’t be known. Ira has people watching the apartment, so don’t worry about anything.”
She nodded.
Just before he ended the call she spoke again, more than a bit shy. “Ian, I liked the flower.” She didn’t need to tell him it was her first.
“Like I said.” His voice was soft. “I already miss you.”
It went smoothly, but that didn’t surprise Ian. It was a carefully set out, meticulously executed plan. He knew how to protect his own and had everything required to do just that.
By sunrise in San Francisco, Brett Sevele was in custody, away from too many questions, and that would remain the case. At the last minute, he had tried to use the elaborate system of computers he had set up in his home to trigger his point of origin. But instead of activating the part of the encompassing web he had had time to create within Ian Blackwell Holdings, his action triggered what Tess had set up, leading to his point of origin becoming just that for him, a point, a very dead end unable to do anything but activate the destruction of his own work.
Tess had effectively disarmed all of Brett’s threads, the foundations of his web of webs, unleashing a domino effect to undo everything he had done. Her own webs weren’t all in place yet when Brett was arrested, but as soon as he was and she no longer had to worry that he might find out what she was doing, she could freely harness the entire power of Ian Blackwell Holdings’ main computer systems to accelerate what she had begun, so that all original numbers were quickly restored and not a trace of Brett’s plot remained.
Except in IBH Additive Manufacturing. Tess had left enough, manipulated enough, to make it look as if Brett had been embezzling money and stealing trade secrets—only within the subsidiary he worked in, of course—and making sure it would all point to Ian in order to deflect blame from himself. Thus, she had effectively exposed his plot against Ian but in a way that did not throw a shadow on Ian Blackwell Holdings’ integrity or on its perceived ability to protect itself, its subsidiaries and its business partners. What she had left, together with the documentation she had prepared as evidence and had given Ian, he could safely provide to the authorities to prove Brett’s illegal activities. It also showed that an internal investigation had been going on for almost as long as Brett had been implementing his plan, proving that Ian Blackwell Holdings had discovered Brett’s actions at a reasonably early stage and had taken steps to protect itself, while continuing to monitor him at all times to understand his intentions. That part she had done too.
But that wasn’t all she had done. And this, only Ian and Robert knew, in retrospect. Mimicking what she had done to her assailant almost thirteen years earlier, she had used the time between Ian telling her that Brett would be arrested and until that had actually happened and had copied his entire home system, the one he had used to carry out his plan, sending it all, the entire proof, to the one place no one would ever find it in. Just in case she ever needed it.
Then she deleted from his computers anything that could hurt Ian or his company, and everything Brett had created to hurt her, the materials he had threatened, and then tried, to use against her. Everything, in a way that could n
ot be restored. And then she made it look like it was Brett who had deleted it all, in fact leading to speculations being raised about the true extent of his plan, his true intentions, making him look, in the eyes of those who now held him, like the villain he really was.
Throughout it all, Ian Blackwell Holdings was never compromised, and Tess Blackwell’s part in preventing what had almost transpired—the little the outside world was allowed to know—remained hidden to all but a few. As was the attack on her.
In his jet, on the way back to Sydney three and a half days after he had left, Ian leaned back in his seat, perturbed. The damage Brett had caused had been fixed, largely thanks to Tess. Everything, except she herself. That was the greatest, most terrible damage he had caused, and it was a scar that would take much more than Ian Blackwell’s money and power to fix.
It would take Ian Blackwell himself, and that’s exactly what he intended to do. If she let him.
He glanced at the clock and calculated the time left until he got to her, dreading the one thing he still had to do.
Tess was sitting on the sofa, staring at the dark fireplace, the one her husband had lit just a few days earlier to make her happy, when the elevator door opened and he came in. She had known he had landed, had known he was on his way, and still her heart accelerated, then stumbled, when he walked into the living room, where she now stood.
He had done this countless times since they were married, come home from his office or from a business trip, and the way he came toward her, the look in his eyes, the words he said, had changed over that time. And yet it was never this way, the way it was just now. The way he stopped in the doorway, the way his eyes fell on her. The way they softened and his lips curved up just a little. The so obvious way he had been waiting to see her.
It was over now, what they had been doing together these past weeks. It was now again just this, just them, the man and woman who had married in such an unlikely way. She wondered what he would do. Would he kiss her? She missed that, his touch, his kiss, in the days he was gone.
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