by Ruby Rowe
Christopher outbids, and I recall a conversation we had after Tony died. He claimed my brother wanted him to have the painting, but since there was no proof of that, I told him no.
He seemed desperate after I refused, asking if he could buy it, but I’d already agreed to this deal with my mother. I never dreamed he’d be willing to spend what we could get for it at auction.
Making more bids, he catches Camilla’s attention, too, and she stares at him in disbelief as he wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead. I lean over to whisper to Greyson.
“Bid against him.”
“Why? I don’t want it.”
“Do it. I’ll pay you back.”
“But the painting was left to you. Why would you buy it?”
“Dammit, just do it.”
“Fine,” he snaps. With the bid now at twenty-six, Greyson holds up his paddle. I glance to Christopher, and his lips purse as he takes a glimpse at Greyson.
The two of them, a female to our left, and the person behind us continue to bid. I look back and see it’s a friend of my father’s, Mason Gerard.
The female yields at forty, but Greyson, Christopher and Mason go at it, outbidding one another quickly. The tension builds, and all eyes are on our table now.
“Chris,” Camilla says in a harsh whisper after he lifts his paddle at forty-eight grand. He ignores her, forging on, and at this point, it’s become a game for Greyson.
He’s enjoying the attention, throwing caution to the wind, especially since the money’s not coming from his wallet. At fifty, Mason drops out, and after a bid of fifty-six thousand by my cousin, Christopher throws his paddle on the table in the most undignified way.
“Can we get fifty-seven? Anyone? Fifty-seven?” The auctioneer is scouring the room, but no one else raises their paddle. “Going once, going twice…” He brings his hammer down. “Sold for fifty-six thousand to the gentleman in the front.”
Good thing this is for a worthy cause since I highly suspect we overbid the value of this painting. The guests applaud, and Greyson leans over to me, losing his fake grin.
“You need therapy, and you owe me one. As soon as I have a need, I’ll collect on it.”
My teeth grind. “Thank you.”
Getting up from the table, Christopher storms toward the exit, so Camilla turns her head and glowers at both Greyson and me.
“I’m going to go talk to him for a minute.” As she starts to stand, I grab her wrist.
“If you go after him, you better be prepared for a painful punishment.” My jaw is set tight, and my heart is hammering.
“He’s my friend.”
“And you’re mine.” Having a showdown of wills, she huffs a breath, turns her chair to face the stage, and crosses her arms.
“That might’ve backfired on you there, cuz,” Greyson says with slurred speech.
“Shut up, asshole.”
Camilla
For all the excitement Ellis incites, it’s accompanied by a great deal of stress. I’m pissed that I’m turned on by his threat and grasp of my wrist.
I’m angry and confused as to why he had Greyson bid against Christopher. I saw Ellis whispering to him, so I have no doubt he was behind it.
Maybe Christopher has more money saved than I thought he did if he’d bid such an outrageous amount on a painting. It doesn’t make sense when all I’ve heard is how disappointed and angry he is with Tony.
Taking a drink of my third glass of champagne, I blow out a long, slow breath. I’m losing my resolve to get through this night, especially when I think of the confession I’ll make in mere hours.
***
“We have to take Greyson home with us and keep an eye on him tonight,” I say to Ellis as we wait in the lobby for Fletcher to pick us up.
Grabbing my waist, he brings me close and kisses my ear.
“But I owe you multiple orgasms for your good behavior this evening, and I plan to deliver.”
“He’s already stumbled to the bathroom three times to vomit. What if while he’s alone, he chokes on it and dies?”
Ellis growls in my ear. “OK, if you insist.”
Pulling away, I look at the floor and bite my lip.
“Besides, we need to have a discussion tonight. There’s something I need to tell you … about the past, and it can’t wait another day. It’s been weighing on me heavily.” Lifting my chin, Ellis lowers his head and fastens his gaze to mine.
“I think I know what it pertains to, and we probably should discuss it so we can stop dwelling on the past and get on with our life together.”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t think you know what this is about.” Greyson stumbles back from the restroom, and he’s in rough shape. His tux jacket is open, bowtie hanging from his collar. His skin is ashen, and his textured blond hair that’s longer on top is now drooping over his face.
Ellis gets the call that Fletcher has pulled up out front, so we help Greyson to the car. The guys lug him into the front passenger seat before Ellis and I take the back.
On the drive home, I decide to make small talk to distract me from what lies ahead.
“What type of work does your father and Ron do? I was afraid I’d insult them if I asked, but you’ve never told me.”
Ellis’s eyebrows pinch together, and he smiles.
“They would’ve had belly laughs over that one, especially Uncle Rich. You seriously don’t know? They’ve been in the paper often, and our name is well-known.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve been too busy over the years to follow much of the news. I was struggling to make a living to care for Sasha and Liam.”
Bringing my hand up, Ellis frowns and kisses it.
“My Burke ancestors bought up land parcels throughout the west, and most of those were sold off over the years, so that’s how my family first acquired wealth.
“Then, my father developed business management software, and Microsoft purchased it in 1996. Needless to say, he was able to retire.”
“Ah, I see now where your interest in technology came from.”
“Yes, and my father feels I’ve wasted my talent and the use of our name.” Uncomfortable by his admission, he clears his throat. “Uncle Rich chose a different path. He married Mary Ann Gant, whose late father was half owner of Gant-Peterson Oil Company. Rich worked for him.”
“Isn’t Peterson Whitney’s last name?” I ask quietly.
“You pay attention. Yes, and her late grandfather owned the other half of the company. Now, her father runs it with Rich.” Ellis looks to the front seat and back to me. “Greyson was already supposed to marry Whitney,” he whispers.
“What? Like some arranged marriage?”
“I guess you could call it that. He keeps putting it off. I shouldn’t discuss it, especially now.”
I sigh as I think about how miserable Greyson seemed tonight. Getting to know the Burke family has reaffirmed my belief that although money can ease some burdens, it doesn’t buy happiness.
“Why did you have Greyson outbid Christopher for the painting?”
“I want to examine it. I don’t believe Christopher would spend that kind of money to have a keepsake of Tony’s.”
“You really don’t trust him.”
“No, I don’t, and it’s not only because of you. There’s something else about him that doesn’t sit right with me, and I’ve decided to get to the bottom of it so I can finally put his ass on the road.”
“I think you’re overreacting.”
“And I think you need to be less trusting of him.”
Sighing, I recall the times I’ve misjudged someone’s character.
“Maybe you’re right. My track record for trusting people stinks.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ellis
Fletcher helps me haul Greyson to my family room. We remove his jacket and drop him on the sofa. I’m not about to drag his limp ass upstairs.
“Thank you, Fletcher. I won’t need you tomorrow, so rest assured you’ll have the day off.”
He lets himself out, and as I remove Greyson’s shoes, his legs slide off the sofa. I shove them back onto it and attempt to straighten his body.
Camilla’s in the kitchen, getting a glass of water and a wastebasket to set beside him. He’s a lucky man tonight. If it wasn’t for her, he’d be on his own couch, fending for himself.
It’s been a long time since he’s been this blitzed, and it concerns me since he’s a recovered addict, to drugs that is. He never stopped drinking, but he usually knows his limitations.
“Ellis,” he mumbles.
“What?”
Opening his eyes, he works at bringing me into focus.
“I don’t want to marry her.”
“Then don’t.”
“I have to or … or Dad and Lawrence will hate me.” His eyes close again, and his mouth is agape.
“I don’t believe that.” As I shove a pillow beneath his head, he grabs my arm.
“Whit … she’s not the one. Why don’t they want me to be happy?”
I sit down on the coffee table in front of the sofa and rest my arms on my knees.
“Greyson, I don’t know why they’re different with you. All I know is you have to fix it before you’re looking for something stronger to numb your pain.”
Hearing a noise, I look up, and Camilla is at the doorway. She clears her throat and brings over the items for him.
“I’m gonna go change,” she says.
“I’ll be up in a few minutes.”
Before leaving the room, she looks at Greyson with sympathy in her eyes. She heard too much. If my cousin doesn’t have a talk with his father soon, I’ll be the one to do it.
I watch him until he drifts off to sleep, which doesn’t take long. Camilla isn’t in my room, so after I change out of my dress clothes into a pair of black sweats, I search for her. She’s sitting on her bed, staring at Liam on the video monitor.
“I thought we agreed you weren’t sleeping in here any longer.”
She doesn’t take her eyes off the screen.
“Sorry, I got sidetracked. I wasn’t able to spend much time with him today.”
“Yeah, I missed the little guy, too. Is he OK?”
“Yes, but I’m wondering if Beatrice had trouble getting him to sleep since she’s on the cot.” She peels her eyes off the screen to glance at me. “Do you think I should wake her and send her home?”
“It’s late. If she gets uncomfortable, she’ll go to the spare bedroom.”
Leaning her head back, Camilla stares at the ceiling and takes a deep breath. Her boobs push outward in the thin tank top she changed into, and it’s turning me on. I stroll over and hold my hand out.
“Come. It’s time for me to have a taste … or maybe a feast. And don’t worry, I’ll gag you so your screams don’t wake our guests.” Expecting a coy smile from her, I’m surprised when she lowers her head and frowns.
“I think one of us should sleep downstairs in the family room so we can keep an eye on Greyson.”
“He hasn’t thrown up since we left the gala, and he was snoring when I headed up. I think he’s out for the night.”
“Then have a seat so we can talk.”
Grabbing my hips, I tilt my head to the side.
“Baby, going down on you seems way more exciting for the both of us. We can talk tomorrow.”
“Ellis, please… I know it’s poor timing, but this can’t wait.” Bringing my arm across my chest, I grab my shoulder and contemplate whether I want to cooperate.
She’s so stressed out. I guess the sooner we talk, the sooner I can get her in my bed, even if it’s only to sleep.
“All right.” I sit down next to her. “Let’s talk.”
She touches her forehead, palms her cheeks and then wrings her hands in her lap.
“I don’t know how to do this.”
“Don’t be nervous.” I rest my hand on her thigh. “Maybe I can help. Is this about the night we met at Tony’s party years ago?”
Her head swings toward me. “You remember that night?”
“Some of it came back to me recently. I’ve had this recurring dream for a few years now, and I thought it was just that–a dream, but I guess the time we’ve spent together triggered the memories.”
“Um, so you know we were in Tony’s spare bedroom together?”
“Yeah, and I remember we were drinking champagne.” Falling back on the bed, I scratch my stomach. “I figured you were keeping it a secret to spare me the humiliation. I know I was drunk, and that’s never a pretty sight.”
“That’s not why I hadn’t said anything.” She turns back to look at me. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
“Let’s see … I was on the bed like this and asked you to lie with me. I said something about us being dizzy together.”
She rubs her forehead. “God.”
“Camilla, just tell me the whole story.” I graze my fingers along her lower back.
“I didn’t just happen upon you that night. Tony asked me to spend time with you.”
My hand drops to the bed. “Why would he do that?”
“Remember how I said he made you out to be evil and dangerous? Well, he told me he needed to get inside your safe to retrieve a flash drive that held top-secret documents.”
I sit up. “What?” As I try to make sense of her words, I shake my head.
“Tony said the classified information on the flash drive was about our country’s power grids. He claimed you were going to sell the information to the Chinese government. I know it seems so stupid now, but I believed him. He was convincing and persuasive—”
“What the fuck, Camilla?”
“Ellis, I didn’t feel I had a choice at the time. He said he’d pay me to do it. I was broke, and Sasha was strung out. I was going to use the money to get her clean. He offered me twenty-five thousand dollars to distract you while he broke in and stole the flash drive.
“He said he had to get his hands on the documents before you sold them, but after getting to know you and hearing the truth about him, I now wonder if he wanted to sell the information.”
“So, you got me drunk on champagne while he snuck into my home?”
“Yes, but there’s more to it than that.”
I stand and pace in front of her. “What else?”
“Tony gave me the impression you would pass out right away since you had already consumed a few drinks, but that’s not what happened. We drank the champagne, and then I didn’t feel right. Not at all. It was like something had been added to the bottle.
“You were flirting and touching me a little, and then you asked me to lie down next to you, like you said earlier. And then …” Camilla presses her palms to her eyes and struggles to take a breath.
“Finish now. Tell me the rest,” I demand coldly.
“I can’t say it.”
“Tell me, dammit!” Flinching, she begins to cry, so I drop to my knees in front of her and grasp her hands. “I have a right to know what happened that night and what my brother did to me.”
“I didn’t remember everything, either, Ellis. I swear I only recently recalled the entire night.”
“OK, then tell me what I don’t remember.”
Slinging her head back, she blows out a breath and stares above us. Tears streak her cheeks and drop to her pajama pants.
“The next thing I knew, you were on top of me. We could hardly hold our eyes open, but you were kissing on my neck and breasts, and then–and then you begged me to let you inside of me.”
“No … no, that didn’t happen.” As I jerk away, her cry becomes a wail, and the sound is like a fast-moving train. The crash is imminent, and there’ll be casualties for sure. This, I’m certain of.
“Shit, Camilla, tell me I didn’t force myself on you.” With desperation in her puffy eyes, she grabs for my arms, but I step back.
“You didn’t hurt me. You asked ... and I said yes.” Her tears spill as her head drops to her chest.
“We slept together?” I squint in astonishment. Nodding, she sucks in air to catch her breath and stop her cries. How could I not remember? How? I fall to the floor and pull my knees up to rest my arms on them.
“Is that it? Is that everything?”
“No. The next morning, I woke up face down on the floor between the bed and the wall. I’m guessing I tried to get up in the night but fell and passed out again. When I finally woke up, no one was in the room.
“All I remembered at that time was us sitting on the bed and talking, so I knew I’d blacked out at some point. I looked for Tony in the house.”
She shakes her head as if she wants to erase a bad memory. “I won’t say how I found him, but he did confess to drugging us with GHB.
“He said he wanted to be sure neither of us left that room, and he implied he might be killed for not finding what he needed. I didn’t take the money, Ellis. I couldn’t do it.”
Grabbing my head, I tug on my hair. How could my own brother drug me? That flash drive wasn’t in my safe, so what he orchestrated was for nothing. He risked our lives for not a goddamn thing.
“You lied to me. You kept this huge secret even after I bared my soul to you about my relationship with Tony and our careers. Even after I forgave you for the secret you kept about Christopher.”
“I’m sorry, but I was terrified you’d take Liam from me if you knew the truth, and after discovering you were the good guy and loved your brother, I couldn’t find it in myself to break your heart.”
“You mean not until now.” I stand up and charge toward the door.
“Wait, there’s something else. The most important detail of them all.”
Gripping my hips, I hang my head.
“What’s that, Camilla?”
She sniffles and hiccups a breath. “The paternity test … it said you’re Liam’s father. It’s true, Ellis. Liam’s your son.”
With my back to her, I press my hand against the door in front of me to brace myself. From the shock, my head spins as it falls against it. My blood pounds in my veins hard enough to feel it in my neck, and I could vomit.