“And do you regret it?”
“Some days more than others.” To his credit, he looked guilty. “Less so when I remember what she’s done to me. What she’s done to Alayna.”
The reminder of Celia’s sins felt pale next to all that I knew were Hudson’s. The all too familiar call to vengeance beckoned at my ear. “I know all too well how easy it is to hold a grudge.”
“Calling it a grudge is simplifying the matter. She caused real harm to people I love.”
“Just like you caused real harm to people that others loved.” I matched his defensiveness with my own. “To someone that I love.”
For a moment, he held his stance. Then his shoulders relaxed. “It’s different when you’re on the other side,” he admitted.
“That it is.” I held up my cigar, non-verbally questioning what he’d prefer I do with the growing ash.
He nodded to a gold cylinder bin that I only realized was an ashtray when I crossed to it and saw the basin of sand at the top. I set the cigar down to allow the excess ash to shed naturally and turned back to face the man I’d considered my rival. “I investigated you, you know. Looked into more than just your business background. Dug into the charities you support—autism, mental health, addiction treatment. Plus there are a great deal of college and business grants you fund, most started in recent years. A few of those recipients seem to have familiar profiles.” Having read those journals gave me an advantage. No one else would have connected Hudson’s benefactors to the wrongdoings of his past.
His face turned to stone, but the slightest shade of color topped his cheeks. “Celia isn’t the only game I regret.”
“Right. You’ve changed. From what I can see, it seems genuine. Though, one might argue that guilt doesn’t make for noble motivation.”
“I never claimed I was noble.”
“I find that respectable. You don’t flaunt your philanthropic acts. There’s actually a lot about you that reminds me of myself. I go out of my way to contribute to causes that represent what I consider to be my greatest failings. I also believe firmly that karma doesn’t happen on its own. It requires time and attention that must be carried out by those with the ability to dedicate themselves to the cause.
“You are exactly the kind of cause I find myself most drawn to.” I let that sink in, let the threat penetrate, let him understand precisely what I was implying before I went on. “Even if I hadn’t known Celia, I would have wanted to ruin you after reading those journals. You think I should have wanted to run? No, I wanted a reckoning. You were a powerful man who took advantage of people who were vulnerable. For your entertainment. You preyed on the weak. You deserve to pay retribution for every heart you broke, every marriage you destroyed, every dream you crushed, every soul you wrecked. You deserve to have everything taken from you.”
He turned to face me head-on, but while his posture was offensive, his words were not. “I’m not going to defend myself. I can’t.”
I hadn’t realized how much I’d hoped he’d try until that moment. If he had, I might not have been able to go through with this. My anger would have been too fueled to smother.
But his refusal to fight made it impossible to change my course. Which was for the best.
“You don’t have to defend yourself,” I told him. “You already have a defendant. Celia has done nothing but defend you since the first time you came up. She’s protected your name. She’s justified your actions. She’s stood by you. She’s pleaded your case. At first, I thought you had her brainwashed. I’ve since learned that she’s a smart, sane woman who is more than capable of thinking for herself, and she does. All the time. Sometimes to my detriment, which I admire more than I care to admit. So then I thought she was in love with you.”
He perked up at that insinuation.
“She’s not,” I said quickly, unwilling to let him consider the notion for any length of time. “She never really was, from what I gather. You made her think maybe she could be once upon a time, but I’m sure you know as well as anyone the quality of manipulated emotions.”
“Unfortunately, I do.”
“The reason she defended you, I finally realized, is because she genuinely believes you are a good person. That you’ve changed. And I think the only reason she’s able to believe it as she does is because she’s changed too. It takes one to know one, etcetera, etcetera.”
“And what do you think?”
I appreciated the question and answered gladly. “I’m less prone to believe it. Because if it were true, you’d know it was possible she’s changed too. You would recognize the signs. You wouldn’t be campaigning so hard to keep the upper hand. You wouldn’t be so afraid.” I chuckled. “Ironic that she’s the one you fear. It should be me. I should frighten the hell out of you.”
This was the kind of threat I was used to delivering, and a part of me expected the usual fawning and backtracking from Hudson that I had heard from countless other foes.
But Celia had warned me about the man for a reason—he was legitimately formidable, with his own threatening countenance. A man who wouldn’t back down.
“Do you want to know why I don’t?” he asked, sure of himself as ever.
“Please. Tell me.”
“Because you love her.”
I did love her. I wouldn’t deny it. Yet, it felt almost like he was reading my journal the way he announced it, as though this piece of knowledge gave him insight into all of me.
I picked up my cigar to distract from how vulnerable it made me feel.
But he’d spotted my weak spot, and he pressed on it further. “Speaking from one man who is very like another, you’d move heaven and earth for the woman you love. You’d protect and defend her, no doubt in my mind. But you’d also honor her. From what you’ve just told me, hurting me would mean disregarding her wishes.”
He did understand me. Because he was the same kind of man. Younger and more vain, perhaps, but still a king who bowed only to the woman he adored.
“You’re smarter than I gave you credit for. Celia said that about you, too.” I puffed thoughtfully on my cigar. “You’re right. She doesn’t want me to go to war with you, and that should be reason enough not to. I’m sad to say that it wasn’t enough. She begged and bartered, and…” I shook my head, thinking about how painfully stubborn I’d been. “Didn’t matter. I didn’t care. I was determined. Because I knew what was best for her. Better than she knew for herself.”
He nodded his head, knowingly. Then his brow creased. “Are we at war, then?”
“No. We aren’t.” I had to take a breath after I said it. It was like laying a heavy weapon down, and the effort of carrying it lingered after it was on the ground. “The thing is, she finally got through to me, and when she did, it wasn’t her conviction in your character that made me change my mind. It was just her. It was realizing that she’s everything, and anything that isn’t her isn’t worth my time.”
I’d been wrong. My love for Celia wasn’t a vulnerability. It was my strength. It was my bastion. It was my greatest weapon.
“I don’t care who you are,” I said, emboldened by my epiphany, “or what you’ve done to repay your debts. I only care about her and our child and what she’s done for me. She hasn’t changed me, but she’s accepted me for who I am, and with that acceptance, my focus has shifted. I no longer see you or the battle I meant to wage. All I see is her.”
He let a smile slip, but quickly tucked it away. “So you didn’t meet with me to discuss the shares?”
I shook my head. “I don’t bloody care about the shares. Whoever owns them, I already have what I need. Celia does too.”
He pressed me with a quizzical expression.
“Then why are we here, you’re wondering.” I sighed. “I probably didn’t need to meet with you at all since you weren’t aware of my vendetta. Honestly, I’m here for selfish reasons. Closure, somewhat. Mostly, I’m here for Celia. She doesn’t need me to stick up for her or fight any of her wars, nor
would she appreciate it if she knew that’s why I was here. If she knew I was here at all, that is. Regardless, I didn’t think it was right that you didn’t know what she’s done for you, and my place or not, I needed to make it known. If she’s what one of your enemies looks like, I’d advise you to get more of them.”
The man was unreadable, another admirable quality, but I sensed he’d heard me. He gave the impression that he heard everything, including much that wasn’t actually said. Rolling his cigar between his fingers, he stared vaguely into the distance. “It’s funny, after everything that’s occurred between us, I still think of her first as friend rather than foe. And what she did to help find Alayna...I know she was reluctant to help at first, for whatever reason—”
“That was my fault,” I interjected. “She would have been helpful from the beginning if it weren’t for me, guaranteed.”
He took a second to digest that. “I wouldn’t have found my wife without Celia. I know that. I have nightmares every time I sleep about it, thinking what might have happened. Knowing how close I was to losing...everything.” Emotion shuddered through him, but he recovered quickly. “Celia was there when I needed her most, and maybe that doesn’t make up for everything in the past, but as you seemed to suggest, there’s not much value in holding a grudge.”
Reaching into his tuxedo jacket, he pulled out an envelope, bent from being stuffed inside his pocket, and handed it to me. “It’s not what you’re here for, but it’s what I’m here for. Both my lawyer and financial advisor have already approved the language. Take all the time you need looking it over. Whenever, if ever, you’re interested, call my office, and we’ll schedule a time to make it final.”
I tucked it in my own pocket without looking at it. I knew what it was, and though it was a nice gesture, it didn’t matter. It didn’t change anything.
It was, however, a good note to end on.
I set my cigar back in the sand so it would extinguish naturally, then I held my hand out. “I think we’re done here.”
He accepted my hand and gave it a firm shake. “I’d say we are.”
A vivid memory flashed in my mind of that night with Frank, of the way the fire licked against the night sky, the smoke rising above the flames. I’d stood watching as long as I’d dared, hoping for the finality to sink in. It never did.
It was different walking away from Hudson. The world might have been ablaze behind me. I never looked back to see.
Eighteen
Celia
I walked into the Werner Media lobby and checked the time on my phone. Twelve after nine. I was cutting it close.
I hurried past reception, flashing my ID to the security guard who knew me by sight, and down the hall to the press room located at the heart of the first floor. It took twice as long to get there because of the clothes I was wearing. A tight pencil skirt and sky-high heels were not conducive to speed.
But hey, I looked good.
I always looked good when Edward dressed me, which had become routine again. Usually, though, since my days generally consisted of mothering, the outfits he chose were simple summer dresses or rompers with easy access to my breasts for feedings. When I’d seen today’s selection laid out for me when I woke for Cleo’s six o’clock feeding, I’d been surprised he’d chosen something so businesslike. Then I’d seen the note from Edward who’d come in after I was asleep the night before.
Nine-fifteen today. Werner Media press room.
It had struck me as odd right off the bat. I hadn’t been to the building at all since my father retired. Even with the three-point alliance, Edward had little interaction with Werner Media.
Strange as the request was, I’d also been immediately excited. Which might have been unjustified considering how many times Edward had led me into uncomfortable situations without any warning. As distressing as those occasions were, though, they always paid off in the end. If that’s what I was walking into, so be it.
Too bad I was walking into it late.
With the handicap of the outfit plus another check-in point outside the press room, I didn’t walk in until almost nine-twenty. The room was packed, standing room only. Flash bulbs were going off, cameras pointed toward the front of the room. After weaseling my way to a place where I could actually see, I saw it was Nathan Murphy, the Werner Media CEO, behind the podium. And at his side, waiting to be introduced, was my father.
For whatever reason, seeing my father made my stomach knot. I’d heard him speak at hundreds of pressers and events over my lifetime. It was an ordinary part of his job. So mundane, I hadn’t tuned in to one in years.
But he was retired now and had less reason to be representing Werner Media in a conference. His presence suggested an important announcement was to be made. And if Edward had wanted me here for it, I could only guess what it would be in reference to, especially considering what else was going on in the Werner world.
Sure enough, after a short speech from Nate that said pretty much nothing, my father approached the podium with a digital reader in his hand.
A prepared speech. This was real serious coming from a man who liked to wing it.
He had my full attention, along with forty other people crowded around me. We all watched, a strange silence blanketing the press room while he took his reading glasses out of his jacket pocket and adjusted the microphone.
“I appreciate you all coming out today. So many familiar faces.” His eyes roved around the room, greeting old friends with a nod. He paused when he came to me, the jovial expression he’d had a moment before slipping away instantly.
Somberly, he turned his gaze back to his device. “‘Recent events have brought focus to my brother, Ronald Werner,” he said, and I forced myself to breathe, to not go numb, to stay in the moment. “While he hasn’t had a position at Werner Media nor vested interest in the company for years, we feel it is appropriate to make a statement regarding his criminal charges and the sentence of twenty-six years that was announced last week in the Crown Court of London. It is our understanding that he is in the process of appealing these charges.’ That’s right, right?” He looked to the men gathered behind him. “That’s what we hear anyway,” he said after the man that I recognized as his lawyer nodded in confirmation. “‘Many of his friends and colleagues have already come forward to testify on his behalf and more will likely show up in the coming days. My wife and I as well, as representatives for Werner Media, have been urged time and again to make our own statement, which we have refused to issue until now.’”
It was hard to not check out. Hard to not pay attention to his words when I was certain I knew where they were going. These charges are false and egregious. I’ll stand behind my brother no matter what. A whole bunch of horseshit I didn’t want to hear. Why did Edward want me here for this? To show that my father was the bastard he’d always purported he was?
Yeah, like I needed proof.
Fuck that. I didn’t need to be here for this.
I turned, intending to push my way out of the crowd as he went on. “‘Today, I am standing here to formally say that neither I nor my family nor any part of Werner Media Corporation stand behind Ron in any way.’”
I froze, sure I’d heard wrong. But the murmur of reporters across the room suggested they’d been shocked by what they heard too. I wiggled back into my place, attentive now.
“‘The acts that Ron has been accused of are abhorrent and inexcusable. He’s been found guilty of these terrible acts in a court of law. Anyone wishing to believe him innocent hasn’t taken a look at the proof, which is irrefutable. There is no doubt in my mind that he has committed these heinous crimes and that he has been willfully abusing and assaulting children for decades.’”
He took a beat to remove his readers and look at his audience. “I wish I could have understood earlier,” he said, with more heartfelt sincerity than I’d ever seen from him. His eyes found mine again. “With all my heart, I wish I could have understood his nature and the danger he pose
d to those around him so that I might have intervened. So that I might have confronted his predatory behavior and rescued countless little girls from harm. I wish I could have prevented him from ever laying a hand on…” For a moment, I thought he was going to say you, but he caught himself. “Laying a hand on a child. It is a regret I will take to my deathbed.”
My eyes pricked, and even several blinks weren’t enough to stop the tears from falling. How long had I waited for this? Not even for an apology, but just an acknowledgment that it happened. That I hadn’t lied.
It was validation that I hadn’t believed my father capable of giving.
It repaired something broken between us. Not everything because it was still too little and oh so late, and because I knew this would be all I got from him. There would be no more talk of Ron after this. I knew that as well as I knew anything.
But it was something, and I could appreciate it for what it was. I gave him a tight smile, and his shoulders relaxed as he put his glasses on again and continued reading. “‘While I can’t undo my brother’s actions, and while Werner Media assumes no responsibility for his crimes, we are committed to looking after those he has victimized. I am honored to unveil “For Our Children,” a twenty-million-dollar fund dedicated to directly serving boys and girls who have been abused and assaulted by Ron or other predators.’”
I slipped out after that. There would be questions and accusations and details of Ron’s crimes would come up, and I didn’t want to be there for any of that. I’d gotten what I’d come for.
Everything else I needed was waiting for me back at the hotel with Edward.
* * *
I walked into the living room of our suite to find the ottoman upended against the window, the desk moved back against the wall, and the sofa pushed out of the way to make room for all three of the baby gyms we’d had folded up and stored under the crib in Cleo’s room to be laid out and fully assembled. Various farm animals and nature figures were strewn across the floor under fabric-covered arches. Cleo lay on her back under the one nearest me, her legs kicking excitedly at the plush stars above her head.
Rising: Slay Four Page 21