“Damn it,” I curse softly, my own anger momentarily blotted out with guilt and a sense of responsibility. This one is on me. I hired this man. I engaged with Martina and this was the outcome, a decision I’ll analyze later, in private. “His finger was cut off and he still forced himself out of that box,” I say, anger returning, along with a personal, silent promise to deliver the man the justice he deserves.
We round the corner to the elevator banks. “He’s an ex-SEAL,” Seth says, stopping at the garage-level car and hitting the call button. “He’s trained to push through the pain. The only positive, if there is one, outside of him being alive, is that he seems unaware of being publicly exposed.” He changes the subject. “I need to wrap up a few things here, but Cody will be waiting on you in the garage of your apartment where your family’s now located.” He hands me a set of keys. “White Ford F-150 parked next to the Bentley.”
“I’m gathering the plan, then,” Derek says, breaking his short silence, “is to get us all in one obvious location and hope that seems too stupid for anyone to consider. Well, except for the fact that Adrian owns the staff there, and if he wants the press or the police to find us, they will.”
The elevator opens and Seth holds the door with his foot and hand. “What do you know of the staff there?”
“Enough to know that unless you fired them all, you still have a problem.” Derek walks into the elevator and faces forward. “But on the bright side: we’ll all be together to get our stories straight before we get questioned, and daring to brainstorm right underneath Adrian’s nose feels like a mighty nice ‘fuck you’ to him.”
Seth’s gaze shifts to me. “He could own everyone in every place you favor,” he says. “What matters is how prepared we are. And we are.”
Considering recent events, if this were anyone but Seth, I’d question him, but if he says we’re prepared, I accept that answer, given the urgency of the situation. I give him a nod and step into the car next to Derek, while Seth steps between the doors and looks at him. “You know way more about Adrian Martina than you should.”
“I’d have agreed with that statement two days ago,” Derek surprises me by saying. “But right now, you need to know everything about him you can. For instance, Adrian revels in breaking those who think they can’t be broken.”
I digest this with discomfort, and not just for Ted, but in how easily that description could be used to describe me in pursuit of winning a courtroom brawl.
“And,” Derek adds, “I guarantee you that Ted shoved his way out of that crate because he was led to believe staying in it had consequences.”
Seth stares at Derek, his eyes hard, then harder, before he looks at me. “Cody will be waiting.” He lets the door shut and leaves Derek and me alone once again. Side by side, and in an elevator. Enemies. Brothers. Allies if we are going to survive the mess our family has found, even if we must be uncomfortable allies. The ride is a short one floor, and we exit to the garage, where I unclick the locks of the truck, momentarily remembering the good times on our ranch my parents still own.
“You ever get to the ranch?” I ask.
“I can’t stomach the memories,” he says, and I get it. I do. It’s the same reason I haven’t been, despite loving the property and the experience.
“A time when they convinced us we were a happy little family.”
He glances over at me. “You mean we weren’t?”
It’s a sarcastic, rhetorical question, and I give a humorless laugh. “Of course we were,” I say, walking toward the driver’s side of the truck while he does the same on the passenger’s side. In unison, we climb inside and shut the doors, and for the first time since my return home, that mountain between us feels more like a hill. “Makes you wonder what was real, doesn’t it?” I say, still talking about our family. But the idea behind the statement has me repeating, “You know more about Adrian Martina than you should,” before a realization hits me. “But it’s not him you know. It’s Teresa.”
“You already know this. What’s your point? She was my gateway drug into Adrian’s operation.”
“That you got addicted to,” I surmise.
He cuts his gaze from mine, looking forward, and does so a little too quickly for my comfort. “I told you,” he says. “Leave her out of this.”
“But you can’t, can you? Because she is your drug, like Emily is mine.”
He doesn’t react or look at me, his gaze focused on the front window, where there is nothing but a wall to inspect. “Yes,” he surprises me by conceding, his eyes meeting mine. “Yes, she is.”
“Derek—”
“She isn’t like them.”
“She actively, willingly lives and works close to her brother,” I say. “She’s one of them.”
“She’s trapped.”
“You’re trapped. We’re trapped. She is not. If she wanted to leave, they worship her. She could leave.”
His cell phone starts to ring, and he removes it from his pocket and then glances at me. “Surprise, surprise,” he says dryly. “It’s Mike, no doubt wanting to know why our building is on the news. Aside from the fact that he’s a pain in our fucking asses we don’t need right now. Do we have a story we want to tell him?”
“We have no idea what Pops might have already told him,” I say. “He could be cornering you into a conflicting story.”
He hits decline. “That’s the excuse I needed to ignore that call, but he won’t be ignored for long. He’ll call back.”
My phone starts to ring, and I fish it from my pocket and glance at Mike’s number on the screen. “No,” I agree, showing the caller ID to Derek. “He won’t.” I end the call, return my phone to my pocket, and start the engine. “It’s time to deal with our enemies, once and for all.”
“Our enemies?” he queries.
“They are our enemies, Derek, Mike included.”
“And what does that make our mother?” Derek asks.
“Indeed,” I say, my agreement bitter on my tongue. “That’s a question we have to ask.”
“One with an answer we might not like.”
He’s right, and somehow, as I pull us out of the garage, I have this sense that not only are Derek and I alike but different, but circumstances now force us to be united despite our divisions. I’d call that progress if those circumstances weren’t quite possibly life-and-death.
EMILY
The Escalade we ride in to the Four Seasons is large enough to allow myself, Jessica, Shane’s parents, and two of Cody’s men to ride with us. I don’t ask questions about the smoke or the building evacuation with Jessica and Maggie present, nor do I say much about Shane’s call, for fear I’ll create questions none of us want them asking. For Maggie’s part, she simply doesn’t ask questions, which I can only assume comes from her role as the grandame of the Brandon family. And while I do not believe Jessica knows about the Martina family, she understands the secrets and lies that are the Brandons, and chooses to keep her lips as sealed as mine.
After a short few-block drive, the Escalade turns into the parking garage of the Four Seasons, at which time I have one thought. We might be out of the smoke, and Brandon Senior might be able to breathe again, but I can’t. And that won’t change until I’m back with Shane, touching him, kissing him, confirming that he’s alive and well. I’m just not sure how we all stay that way with a man like Adrian Martina in our lives. Once we’ve parked, Cody and his men escort us to the elevators, though only Cody joins us in the actual car. The ride begins, and the silence is deafening until Brandon Senior begins to cough, a reminder to me that he’s dying. It’s also a sharp-edged knife in the heart of this family, a blade Derek handed to Adrian Martina to dig a little deeper.
We exit to the hallway, and Jessica tugs my arm, pulling me to the back of the group. “What’s going on?”
“I really don’t know,” I say, and even if I did, I would not involve her in this.
“You asked Shane if this was related to last night.”
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“Shane’s taking over as acting CEO,” I say, grasping for a reasonable answer, and wishing like hell this woman didn’t see and hear too much, too often. “Not everyone is happy about that.”
“Derek?” she queries, but doesn’t give me time to reply. “Of course,” she says. “He wants the company to look in chaos under Shane’s control.”
“I thought so, but the smoke changed my opinion,” I say, concerned now that I have eased her fears a little too much, when I want her to remain cautious. “It seems extreme,” I add. “Maybe this isn’t related to the family at all. Maybe it’s terrorism or some other situation.”
“Right,” she says again. “It could be, but the timing does seem rather curious.”
We reach the door to the apartment and head inside, where Cody locks up and sets the rules: “Don’t leave. Don’t answer the door. If you need something, I’ll be on the balcony, making a few phone calls. Questions?”
Jessica shoves a lock of her now long blond hair behind her ear and folds her arms in front of her, concern furrowing her brow, her saucy attitude nowhere to be found. “Because the press is dangerous?”
“You’re damn straight they’re dangerous,” Brandon Senior barks, his voice raspy, almost unrecognizable.
Cody’s eyes meet Jessica’s. “I’ll be on the balcony,” he says, and not for the first time, there is a fizzle of connection between them that has me wondering if that was an invitation.
Whatever the case, he steps down the hallway, and Brandon Senior motions toward the apartment. “I need an office to work in.”
“I thought you’d want to lie down,” I offer.
“He does,” Maggie insists.
“I need to work,” he counters.
“You won’t be alive for the chemo if you kill yourself,” she argues.
It’s a good argument, but his phone rings, disrupting her efforts, and the minute he takes it out, looks at the screen, and says, “Mike,” before declining the call, I know she’s lost her influence tonight.
Clearly oblivious to this fact, Maggie looks displeased and questions him, “Why didn’t you take that? Surely Mike wants to know what’s going on.”
This earns her Brandon Senior’s scowl, which she doesn’t see because he’s focused on me. “For the last time,” he tells me, “I need an office and a computer.”
“Of course,” I say, and, concerned about Shane’s private documents being put on display, I motion toward the kitchen, rather than the office. “Let’s set up in the dining room so you have plenty of room to work.” I start walking, and I don’t miss the way he offers Maggie his back, dismissing her, shutting her out, a bit like Shane did to me last night. It’s a thought that guts me, stirring fears that Shane mimicked Brandon Senior’s behavior without even knowing it. Worse, that Shane and I could become his parents.
“If you have to work,” Maggie says, “I’ll make some coffee or tea. Emily, do you have tea?”
“If Cody’s okay with room service, they can make a green tea with honey,” I suggest, following Brandon Senior into the dining room, where he claims the head of the table and now gives me a scowl. “I need a computer, Ms. Stevens. Are those letters out to the stockholders?”
“Hours ago,” I assure him. “Should I call them and explain our silence this afternoon?”
“The less you say, the less that can be held against you or me,” he says. “Until we know what that silence originated from, no.” His phone rings again and he ignores it. “Get me that computer.”
I nod and rotate back into the kitchen to find Jessica standing by the stove, while Maggie is at the bar, on the room phone. “What can I do?” Jessica asks.
“Go away,” Brandon Senior calls out. “That’s what you can do. My business can be your business when it’s Shane’s, because I’m dead. And I’m not dying.”
“Soap operas and wine it is for me,” Jessica bites out, and then looks at me. “You should join me.”
“My business is her business,” Brandon Senior calls out. “But my wife can join you.”
The clear inference that his business is not his wife’s has Jessica and me looking at Maggie, who laces her fingers together and looks toward the dining room, her usual fierce energy momentarily laced with defeat. A moment later, her jaw sets, her chest rising with a heavy breath, and I can almost feel her resolve form. “You mean your wife can join you,” she says, marching forward.
Jessica and I share a look of discomfort, both of us moving into the living area. “I had no idea he treated her like the rest of us,” she whispers. “If she’s not immune, I wonder if his little girlfriend is?” She doesn’t give me a chance to reply, motioning to the open patio door. “I’m going to go see if I can find out anything we don’t already know about what happened back there.” She lowers her voice. “I’ll find you if I make progress.”
I nod and take a step, intending to head to the office, when a thought hits me, and I follow Jessica to the patio, where I poke my head out of the doorway just as she reaches the balcony. Cody spots me instantly, pushing off the railing. “Is everything okay?”
“I just wanted you to know we ordered tea from room service.”
“That’s no problem,” he says. “I have men watching the floor. I’ll let them know.” He reaches for his phone but hesitates, narrowing his gaze on me. “What’s wrong?”
“Can you confirm Shane and Derek are safe?”
“The last time I communicated with Seth, which wasn’t long ago, they were with him.”
That’s not a yes or a no, but it’s better than nothing. Deciding I’ll text Shane, I slip back into the living room, but I find myself lingering just beyond the patio, observing as Cody and Jessica face the railing, my mind on that first night with Shane. Me lying against that glass. Me giving him my trust when I didn’t know him and had every reason to distrust everyone around me. I still trust him and I know he trusts me. We aren’t his parents. We won’t become his parents.
Shaking off the thought, I hurry to the office and grab a spare MacBook, then make my way back to the dining room, surprised to find Brandon Senior alone, and on the phone, rather than with his wife. He glances up, motions for me to set the computer down. I do so and he immediately points at the door, dismissing me. Unfazed by his typical behavior, I do as he says, but I am bothered by Maggie’s absence. Seeking her out, I head downstairs, find the bathroom door closed, and Lord help me, I don’t know why, but before I can stop myself, I’m walking in that direction, stopping at the door, where I dare to listen. There is silence. Movement. Then words.
“No,” she whispers. “You should have warned me about today. I don’t think I can go through with this.”
Feeling as if I’ve just been punched, I lower my head to my chest. Was Mike behind the evacuation and the smoke, not Martina? Or—oh God—is Martina working with Mike? The doorbell rings and I jolt, my heart in my throat as I race for the hallway. “Who is it?” I call out.
“Room service.”
“You’re clear to open the door,” I hear, turning to find Cody standing behind me, but his eyes narrow at me again, awareness in their depths. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” I say quickly, wanting to talk to Shane about this before anyone else. “I just—I’m nervous right now.”
“With good reason,” he says. “I’ll get the tea.”
“It’s okay.” I rotate and open the door, accepting the tea and willing my heart to slow, and I almost succeed. But then I shut the door and turn to find Maggie standing in the hallway.
“I’ll take the tea to him,” she says, but it’s interesting to me that, as I hand it to her, she doesn’t make eye contact.
She steps away from me and walks into the kitchen, and I find Cody lingering in the hallway, studying me. “What’s bothering you?”
“Nothing,” I say. “I need the ladies’ room.” I hurry forward, but when I try to pass, he catches my arm.
“I’m on your side,” he promises softly.
It’s an odd thing to say, but somehow the right thing as well. And I want to believe him. I do believe him. He works for Shane. And apparently, it’s only Shane’s blood that betrays him. “Thank you,” I say. “I just need to go upstairs and clear my head.”
“Understood. And just so you know, I’m setting every houseguest you have right now up in a room here in the hotel tonight. We want to them to stay, just to be sure the press is well fed before we send them home.”
“The press,” I say. “Right. Of course.”
He lingers a moment more and then turns away. I stand there, waiting for him to leave, and then I dart forward, but instead of going upstairs, I cross the living area and enter the office, shutting the door behind me. I need the resources to do some research on Mike Rogers. But for a moment I lean against the door, trying to think of why Mike would have set this up today. To make the company look lost and in need of his guidance? The smoke, I think. Brandon Senior. To hurt Brandon Senior? To kill him? It’s a crazy idea. I mean, what would that solve? Shane would still have control of the company. Another thought hits me hard. What if the goal was to create some kind a situation where Maggie could contest Brandon Senior’s will? Oh God. Did Maggie and Mike plan to kill her husband? Is Derek in on it? And why, monster that he is, do I think he’s not capable of such a thing?
All these questions lead me to the one I dread the most: How am I going to even begin to tell Shane my suspicions about his mother?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
EMILY
I am not sure how long I lean against the office door, but my mind replays my encounters with Maggie, trying to give her an excuse for what I overhead. You should have warned me about today. Those words are fairly damning. I don’t think I can go through with this. Those even more so. Without any question, she’s up to some kind of trouble. But what? I pray her obvious hesitation to carry out her planned actions is about the love I still see in her eyes for Brandon Senior and that it will prevail. I want to believe this. I do, but it’s hard to trust anyone except Shane right now. And Jessica. I trust Jessica.
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