by Lulu Pratt
Puffing out an agitated breath, Edward doesn’t linger and storms out of my office without another word.
With him out of my vicinity, I release the breath I didn’t know I was holding. Staring at the empty chair he just vacated, I nearly jump out of my skin when my phone vibrates near my keyboard.
Snatching it up, I see Mason’s number and grow anxious.
Hey, I got something. When are you free to talk?
Hands shaking, I respond and tell him to meet me at the same café as last time after work.
The rest of the day passes painfully slow. When five o’clock arrives, I dash out of the front door and don’t stop until I reach the town car Andrew sent to pick me up.
He has a meeting in the city today so he won’t grow suspicious if I don’t come straight home.
I send Andrew a message anyway.
Hope your meeting went well. Grabbing coffee before I head home. Meet you in bed later. :-)
Headed home a little early. I’ll be waiting when you get here. Be safe.
I send back a kissy-face emoji and settle against the cushion of the leather seats. Knowing that he’s home already makes me want to rush through this meeting so I can get to him.
Before I can blink, we’re pulling up outside the café. Mason is standing near the entrance with a tall cup of coffee.
After telling the driver that I’ll be back soon, I hop out of the car and head to him.
Mason watches my approach with a friendly smile.
“Hi,” I say, suddenly feeling queasy.
Despite his friendly smile, I have a gut feeling that I’m not going to like the news he has for me.
When Mason offers to order coffee for me, I turn it down and focus on finding a quiet table tucked off in the back. The last thing I need is caffeine to add to my growing anxiety.
“What do you have for me?” I ask once we’re finally seated in a secluded section of the café.
Mason’s expression grows somber as he pulls out his phone and studies the screen.
“I searched for hours and came up blank. Rio Venture Corp doesn’t exist. There’s no trace of a company bearing that name here in the United States or globally. I even had a couple of my buddies back in NYC trying to dig up stuff,” he sighs, shaking his head. “But all roads led me back to the same conclusion. It doesn’t exist. Never has.”
Red spots appear before my eyes and I’m not sure where I am for a minute.
It doesn’t exist.
Never has.
Still processing his findings, I tilt my head and try to find a loophole. Hoping against hope as always.
“Are you sure you checked everything?”
Mason nods confidently. “Trust me, Lily Cat, if there was something to find, my colleagues and I would have found it. We’re sort of like hounds in that way. We can sniff out an investment opportunity from miles away. But Rio Venture Corp is just a figment of someone’s imagination.”
The weight pressing down on my chest is suffocating.
How could this be happening?
What kind of shit has Edward gotten me involved in? Better yet, what kind of shit have I gotten myself involved in?
“I don’t know what to say…” I start but a lump forms and clogs my next words.
I was played. Plain and simple.
But that’s not even the worst of it.
Edward is a thief who stole from his own flesh and blood. And now I’m stuck in the middle of it.
His obsession with Andrew makes perfect sense now. As I remember their confrontation in the Hamptons, Edward’s look of contempt comes to mind. He absolutely hates Andrew and wants to drain him of his inheritance since he isn’t playing by the rules.
Oh my God.
“Lilah, are you okay? You don’t look so good.”
I feel chills break out across every exposed surface of my skin as the gravity of his words continue to sink in.
It doesn’t exist. Never has.
Edward tricked me in order to steal from Andrew and I fell for it because I was so blinded by my ambition to get funding for my project.
So blinded that I was willing to ignore signs that pointed to the obvious a long time ago.
This is where I get off the psycho train and come clean to Andrew. I don’t care what it costs me, I just have to be the one who tells him.
“Thanks for your help, Mason,” I say, already standing up. “But I really have to get out of here.”
Forty
ANDREW
Gladys comes down to my studio and tells me there’s a guest for me upstairs. I blink at her confusedly before asking who it is. The only person I’m expecting is Lilah and she just told me she was headed out for some coffee.
Who else would show up unannounced? It’s very rare that I get visitors. Especially uninvited ones.
“It’s your brother,” Gladys says. I can read the nervousness on her face as she wrings her hands.
She’s probably worried because we have one rule when it comes to Edward in this house.
He isn’t welcome.
But I’m guessing he asserted his power and wouldn’t take no for an answer if she’s standing there looking like she’s just seen a ghost.
There’s no telling what asinine thing he did to swindle his way inside.
“I’ll take care of it,” I say, grabbing my towel to clean some of the oil from my hands.
Abandoning my work, I follow Gladys up the stairs and into the foyer where my brother is waiting in a navy blue suit.
He is staring at one of my paintings that hangs in the hall. There’s a white folder in his hand.
I clear my throat and he turns swiftly to look at me.
“Andrew.”
“What the hell do you want, Teddy?”
He hates when I call him his childhood nickname.
A phony smile touches his lips. “Is that any way to greet your older brother?”
“I’m going to give you five seconds to state your business before I toss your ass out of here.”
I narrow my eyes at him, and he drops the sickening charade and squares his shoulders.
“Fine. Business it is. We need to talk,” he says, tossing a look over his shoulder. Gladys is still here watching the scene unfold. “Preferably somewhere without too many watchful eyes. You’ll want time to digest this alone.”
“Anything you have to say to me, you can say right here. Right now,” I say, calling his bluff.
“Suit yourself,” he shrugs, pressing the white folder into my chest. “Have a look.”
“What is this?” I ask, catching the folder before it can slide to the floor.
Edward remains silent, but the cocky expression on his face makes me curious.
Keeping one eye trained on him, I open the folder. There is an envelope on top. I run my index finger under the seal and reach inside to pull out the contents.
A glossy four by six of Lilah in a café is all I can make out until I start flipping through the stack. There are at least a dozen pictures here. All with her huddled up in a corner talking to the ex I saw in the grocery store that night. From what I can tell the photos were taken over the course of three different visits.
“Thought you should know your latest obsession is one-sided. She’s across town with him right now while you’re here alone.”
I don’t even absorb his words as I keep shuffling through the photographs.
These were all time stamped within the last two weeks. Not once has Lilah brought up that she’s still in contact with him.
“What the fuck does this have to do with you?” I snarl at my brother, not letting on to the fact that it feels like someone just ripped a gaping hole in my chest.
Gladys mutters something behind me but I don’t catch it. The sound of my own heart is beating too loud in my ears.
Edward shrugs again looking smug. “Just thought you’d like to know. You seem pretty caught up on this one and I couldn’t stand to see my brother getting played by a whore.”<
br />
I raise my hand and strike Edward’s face. It doesn’t register to me that I’ve smacked the snot out of him until Gladys appears at my side, worrying over my uninvited guest.
“Oh dear,” she gasps assessing the damage. “I better get some ice.”
She scurries off to the kitchen, leaving the two of us alone.
“Still hot-tempered, I see,” Edward says, holding his jaw with a self-righteous smirk.
“Don’t ever call her that again.”
Edward starts laughing now. His shoulders shaking as he loses himself in whatever the hell he thinks is funny.
“Why are you defending her? She clearly doesn’t give a fuck about you and you’re willing to fight your own flesh and blood. Damn, her pussy must be better than I thought,” he mumbles under his breath.
In an instant, the photos fall scattering against the wood floor. In the next second, my fist lands against his nose, the sound resounding in the foyer.
This time he has sense enough to cower against the wall. Gladys enters the hall, snapping me out of my fury.
“Show yourself out,” I say over my shoulder as I walk away.
Back in the confines of my studio, I finally let the information sink in.
Lilah’s been playing me the whole time?
But that doesn’t make any sense and the thought alone is enough to make my blood boil. What the hell does she stand to gain by playing me?
How the fuck did she get on my brother’s radar? And why the hell has Edward been following her? What kind of crazed stalker shit is he on?
There are too many unanswered questions for my brain to make any sense of this bullshit.
Lilah wouldn’t lie to me.
Right?
But why the hell is she huddled up with her ex so often?
The most contact they made in the pictures was a hug. But their body language was enough to cue me in to the fact that they have a secret that they feel is worth is protecting.
This doesn’t make any sense. I need more concrete proof.
I take my phone in my hands and send Lilah a text.
We need to talk.
More confused than ever, my eyes roam around my studio searching for answers it doesn’t have to give.
The door slams closed announcing Edward’s departure. Thank fuck. A moment later, my phone chimes with an email notification.
My grip tightens on the phone when I realize the email is from Edward.
The title of the message is “Ms. Lilah Tucker” and is marked urgent.
No, I need to speak to Lilah before this goes any further. Edward has caused enough mayhem. I’m going to wait it out and see what Lilah has to say for herself when she arrives.
That’s easier said than done because two seconds later, my thumb is pressing the screen to reveal the message.
There is no body text, only attachments. Five in total. I click on the first one titled “Tucker, Lilah” and what I see confuses me further. The document is a screenshot of an email Lilah sent Edward long before she and I had ever met.
The email attachment is her accepting a job to work with him over the summer and my stomach heaves.
There’s even a scanned employee contract attached at the bottom in exchange for a quarter-million dollars for her business project at the close of the summer.
I drop the phone in denial but quickly pick it back up, hungry for more information.
My anger mounts more and more with each attachment I open.
Lilah isn’t a financial advisor. She’s a kindergarten teacher and it’s all written out before my eyes as plain as day.
She’s known who my brother was this whole time. And she never said a fucking word. Red tints my vision as I read on, angry with her and most of all, angry with my damn self. She duped me. And I was dumb enough to fall for it.
Reading over the next document, I learn that she’s been teaching for the last six years and has created a product called Thriving Together. In order to get it off the ground, she went to Edward for funding who only agreed to help if she would do something in return.
My finger hovers over the final attachment titled “Knight III, Andrew” when the door to my studio opens and Lilah appears at the top of the staircase.
Forty-one
LILAH
Andrew’s neck is taut, and the brooding look on his face is all I need to let me know that something is wrong.
Very, very wrong.
The space between us is thick with tension before we even speak. Something tells me this is not going to end well. My skin prickles as I realize he knows.
“You wanted to talk?” I croak out, scared to finish my descent down the stairs.
The way he’s silently watching me is enough to make my knees weak. And not in a good way.
“Have a seat,” he says using his head to gesture to the bench on the other side of his workstation.
Gripping the banister for dear life, I manage to make it down the stairs and sit in front of him.
“What’s going on, Andrew?”
He scoffs at my question and shoves his phone in my direction.
“You tell me.”
Edward’s name is on the screen, and my heart drops out of my chest.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Edward has exposed me after me I dragged my feet about telling Andrew about the next investment.
“It’s not what you think,” I say dumbly and as soon as it’s out of my mouth I regret it. That’s exactly what a guilty person would say.
Snickering humorlessly, Andrew snatches his phone back and shakes his head.
“I can’t believe this shit. You were just playing a role. The whole time.”
“No, I wasn’t. I can explain…”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he says, looking at me with disgust.
“I didn’t know he was your brother. He never mentioned it. At the very least, I thought you two were distant relatives. But in the Hamptons, I learned otherwise and I’ve been trying to figure this out ever since,” I confess in one long breath.
My chest is heaving by the time I finish, but I don’t care. I need to get this all out.
But he looks unfazed by my long-winded confession.
“Andrew, say something.”
“Have you been meeting with your ex behind my back?” His voice doesn’t give away much, but his tone is as cold as ice.
How does he know about that?
Frowning, I shake my head. “I wasn’t meeting him behind your back, I—”
“Don’t fucking lie to me, Lilah.”
Clipped and controlled, he doesn’t yell at me but I’ve never felt smaller in my life.
“Just let me explain,” I plead. “This is all a big misunderstanding. I would never intentionally manipulate you.”
“So you’re not a kindergarten teacher pretending to be an investment banker?”
That shuts me up.
He’s made his point on that one and I know nothing I have to say will be able to convince him that I’m speaking anything but a lie.
I fucked up. Bad.
“Andrew, there’s a very good reason for that. I just need you to lis—”
“Get the fuck out of my house!” he roars, and turns away from me.
My heart shatters into a million pieces. I stare at him before closing the distance between us.
“Please hear me out,” I plead, placing my hand on his shoulder.
Andrew shrugs me off roughly and grips my wrist in one fell swoop.
“Keep your fucking hands off me. And. Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. House,” he reiterates, even louder this time.
He drops my wrist from his clutches like he fears contamination and turns his back on me once again.
Deciding not to test my luck any further, I back away slowly and head for the stairs. My vision is blurred with tears by the time I make it to the foyer and Gladys’ voice is unclear as she tries to console me.
Throwing open the door, I sta
rt walking. The closest bus stop is more than a mile away and I pray my feet will carry me there before I collapse from the sorrow burning in my chest.
***
Sitting on the bus, I try not to fall apart before we reach my stop but the gut-wrenching sobs are threatening to make a premature appearance.
I want an explanation from Edward, but all attempts at contacting him are a dead-end. He sends me straight to voicemail each time I call and all my texts come back with a message telling me I’m blocked.
That fucking bastard.
I decide that the best way to ward off my impending breakdown is to occupy myself with something other than my depressing thoughts.
Opening the email application on my phone, I try my last avenue for getting in touch with Edward.
My message is straightforward.
Pick up the fucking phone or I’m calling the police to report your ass for investment fraud.
Not even a full minute passes before my phone rings.
“What the fuck kind of power trip are you on?” I answer the phone on the first ring, livid and unable to contain my rage. “How dare you block me after the shit you’ve put me through this summer?”
“Ms. Tucker, I would advise you to—”
“I’m tired of your fucking advice,” I roar angrily. “Cut the shit and tell me where we can meet or I swear to God, I’ll keep my promise and go to the police.”
Rattled by my threat, Edward mumbles a location for me to meet him and I hang up in his face.
***
The office building is tall and overstated, nothing like the subtlety of Castle headquarters.
When I reach the fourteenth floor, I step off the elevator and head for the double glass doors at the end of the short hallway.
It’s late, and there’s no receptionist stationed at the front desk but a light is on in an office down the hall. Edward steps out of it a second later.
“Ms. Tucker, glad you could make it,” he greets as if I’m here under normal pretenses.
“What is going on?” I demand, advancing on him.