by Emma Slate
I walked in the front door of the suite to see every piece of luggage packed and ready to go. Hawk was playing on the carpet, cartoons on the TV. Scrambling up from his spot on the floor, he righted himself before running over to greet me.
I scooped him up into my arms and pressed a kiss to his nose. He smelled like little boy and sugar.
“They’ve all had their breakfast,” Jen said from her spot on the couch. “Evie is with the twins, cleaning them up.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“You and Mrs. Buchanan must’ve had a fun night—if you’re just now getting in.”
“Fun. That sums it up,” I said. What was I supposed to tell the nanny?
I took Hawk into Noah and Iain’s room and I spent some time with them even though all I wanted to do was shower, eat, and pack.
Room service and two missed calls waited for me when I got out of the shower. I returned Jack’s call first.
“I hear you’re in love,” I said when I had him on the line.
“My sister can’t keep her mouth shut,” Jack moaned.
“Not when it comes to your love life. It’s too good not to share.”
“I know you didn’t call to talk about my dating life.”
“I could’ve called to talk about your dating life,” I stated.
“What do you really want, Barrett?” he asked. I could hear the smile in his voice, so I knew he wasn’t really angry.
“I need a huge favor. And by favor, I mean I’ll pay your exorbitant fee because I know your time is money.”
“What do you need?”
I told him.
“Give me a few days,” he said and then hung up.
I returned Flynn’s phone call next. “I heard you didn’t get home until after dawn,” he said.
“Already spoke to Duncan, huh?”
“Maybe.” He laughed. “I miss you and the boys.”
“You’ve only been gone a day.”
“And you miss me too.”
“I do,” I admitted. “So I have an idea. What if the boys and I come to New York for a little while instead of heading straight home to Dornoch.”
“But what about your life?” he asked. “What about getting the Dornoch Library in order?”
“It’ll keep. Besides, it’s autumn in New York. Would be a shame to miss it. Don’t you think?”
“I’ll meet you guys at the car,” I said to Evie who had Hawk to her hip. Jen had the twins in a stroller and was wheeling them towards the elevator. Two bellman had already come and taken our luggage down.
When I was sure I was alone, I pulled out my phone and dialed Alessandro Filippi.
“I was wondering when I was going to hear from you,” he stated.
“I’m leaving Las Vegas,” I said. “I’m headed to New York to spend some time with my husband.”
“Noted,” he said.
I hung up, my heart thumping hard in my chest. With a deep breath, I looked around the suite, making sure I had everything before closing the door behind me. When I got to the lobby, I thanked the concierge staff and left a stack of envelopes for them. I found my sunglasses, ready to put them on the moment I stepped outside.
As I rushed through the lobby, I nearly plowed into a woman. I reared back before any damage was done. “I’m sorry,” I said absently, barely sparing her a glance.
“Mrs. Campbell?” she asked.
“Yes?” I finally took a moment to look at her. She was oddly familiar, but I couldn’t say why. She was dressed in an empire waist black dress that displayed a lot of cleavage, but the hemline hit just above the knee.
Her eyes met mine. “You don’t know me. My name is Lila St. James.”
“I’m in a bit of a hurry. What can I do for you, Ms. St. James?” I asked distractedly. My phone began to buzz, and it was probably Ash asking what was taking me so long. I rudely searched through my purse to look for my phone.
“I’m so sorry to approach you like this, but I feel it’s my duty—as a woman—to tell you what your husband has been up to.”
I stopped hunting for my phone and slowly looked up to meet her cornflower blue gaze. I finally realized why the blonde haired woman looked familiar—I’d seen her voluptuous body pressed up against my husband the night of The Rex Hotel opening.
“What can I do for you?” I asked again, my voice cold.
“Can we go somewhere more private and talk?” she pressed. “I really don’t want to say any of this out in the open.”
“No need for pretenses,” I said, grinding my jaw. “Say what you want to say.”
She took a deep breath. “I’ve been having an affair with your husband.”
“For how long?”
“Five months,” she said without pause.
“Where did you meet?”
“The Bellagio,” she said. “I was a performer there. Five months ago, he came to see the show I was in and he stayed after to talk to me. He bought me a drink and then asked me to come up to his hotel room. I went.”
Well, the girl knew Flynn’s habits of where he stayed when he was in Vegas during the completion of The Rex. I’d give her that.
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
“For?”
“For sleeping with your husband.”
“Thank you for telling me,” I said politely.
She frowned in confusion. “You’re welcome.”
I adjusted my stance, somehow appearing taller, like a queen surveying an unworthy subject. “What is it you want, Ms. St. James?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t want anything.”
“Then why did you ambush me in the middle of a hotel lobby to tell me of my husband’s infidelity?” I demanded.
“I told you I wanted to speak privately,” she said, looking around her as other guests zoomed past us. No one was paying the slightest bit of attention to our drama.
“I’m leaving for the airport, so you have exactly twenty seconds to tell me what it is you want.”
“Money,” she spat, finally giving in.
“How much?”
“Five hundred thousand,” she said without taking a breath.
“Did you ask Flynn for it?”
An ugly sneer overtook her face. “Of course I asked him for it.”
“The night of the opening,” I realized. “He wouldn’t give it to you, so you were making a scene. What makes you think I’d give it to you if Flynn wouldn’t?”
She didn’t reply.
“You think I’d be a weaker mark,” I realized. This woman had no idea who she was dealing with. “What happens if you don’t get the money?”
“Then I go to the press.”
“And tell them what?”
She pulled her loose dress taut around her middle, so that I could finally see what she’d been concealing.
Lila’s smile was triumphant and ruthless. “I’ll tell everyone that your husband knocked me up and told me to have an abortion.”
Part II
Chapter 17
Violent, volcanic rage erupted in my veins turning my vision red. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I registered Lila St. James taking a quick step back, her beautiful face flashing in fear.
I wanted to strangle her. I wanted to reach out, take her throat in my hands, and choke the life out of her. I wanted to mar her flawless skin with bruises and pain.
“Get out of my hotel,” I gritted.
She swallowed. “Five days,” Lila said before turning to leave. “Five days to get me the money or I go to the press.”
I watched her walk out. Everything around me seemed to be moving in slow motion. Suddenly I was running towards one of the Ficus plants in the lobby and then I was throwing up in the Ficus plant in the lobby.
“Barrett? I was just coming to see if—oh my God! Are you okay?” Ash asked from somewhere behind me.
“Fine,” I mumbled, discreetly wiping my mouth.
“You just threw up,” Ash murmured quietly, stepping to my side.
I tilted my head up to look at her. Her eyebrows were raised, and she was asking a question without asking it.
“I’m not pregnant,” I assured her.
“You could be. Vasectomies fail all the time.”
Despite the swirling anger and nausea in my belly, I grinned. “How reassuring.”
“If you’re not pregnant, then are you sick? Still hungover from last night?”
“No.”
“Then what—”
“I can’t talk about it. Not right now.” I slowly righted myself and picked up my bag that I’d dropped.
“Okay,” Ash said. “We should probably get going.”
“I need a minute.”
“Do you want me to go with—”
I shook my head. “I’ll be out in a minute, okay?” I didn’t even give Ash a chance to respond before I was striding across the lobby to the women’s restroom. Opening the door, I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that it was empty. I went into a stall and locked myself inside. All I wanted to do was scream, let it out, let out the hatred and the ugly, the violence.
I wanted Lila St. James to burn. But first I wanted her to suffer. The woman claimed to be carrying my husband’s child. The swell of her belly was damning evidence. When Flynn told me Lila was an ex-employee, he never told me her name. Had that been on purpose? Had he evaded the truth so I wouldn’t question things further? He knew I would dig. Dig and dig and dig until I got to the bottom of it. The bottom of his alleged affair. Had he lied to my face about having an affair while making me come in an elevator?
No. He hadn’t lied. He would’ve confessed to me. Or he would’ve cleaned up his mess so there would’ve been no bloody trail to follow.
No. Flynn hadn’t cheated. Flynn hadn’t lied about getting someone pregnant.
My husband had honor and loyalty, but he also had his own moral code. Flynn hadn’t been unfaithful, but he was still keeping secrets from me. And I’d warned him what would happen if he ever lied to me again.
“Can I get you something to drink? Mrs. Campbell?”
“Hmm?” I asked, pulling my gaze from the airplane window. Puffy white clouds scattered across the blue sky, obstructing the view below.
“Can I get you something to drink?” the young flight attendant repeated patiently.
“No, thank you. Wait,” I said when she started to move down the aisle. “I’ll have a scotch.”
“A little early, isn’t it?” Duncan asked.
I smiled, but it was thin. “Hair of the dog, you know?”
Duncan nodded in understanding. Ash stared at me and I turned away from her prying eyes. I graciously accepted the glass of scotch and took a healthy swallow. I hadn’t wanted to drink this early in the day in a very long time.
We landed in New York just after sunset. I’d been in a pensive fog all day, and it didn’t lift even as I strode through the familiar lobby of The Rex Hotel. Greeted by staff that knew me, I waved and smiled absently, playing the role of tired passenger. I was anything but.
Flynn wasn’t in the suite to greet us, so I told Evie and Jen to get the boys settled in while I went in search of him. But before I did that, I needed to vent some steam. I changed into workout clothes and then headed to the gym. I ran five miles, but instead of exhausting myself, I only found renewed strength. My anger wasn’t going anywhere. It was time for kickboxing.
Sweat poured off of me as I beat the sandbag. My muscles strained, felt like they were on fire, and still I didn’t give up. I hated Lila St. James. I hated everything about her. I hated her effortless beauty. I hated that she spoke of Flynn with authority. I hated that she made me feel stupid and inconsequential.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
I yelped and whirled to glare at Flynn. “You don’t sneak up on a person.”
He frowned. “I didn’t sneak. I called your name three times, and you didn’t hear me. Are you okay?”
“Fine.”
“Whenever a man asks a woman how she is and she answers ‘fine’, that’s code for ‘go fuck yourself’.”
I went back to hitting the sandbag and didn’t answer him.
Flynn moved to stand in my sight line. “What’s going on?”
My tired arms dropped. “Why didn’t you tell me Lila St. James was attempting to extort money from you?”
He paused. “How do you know about that?”
“Ah, Flynn Campbell,” my voice went hard, “you’ve been keeping things from me.”
“Aye,” he admitted.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I demanded.
“Because it’s being handled.”
“Like hell it is,” I nearly yelled. “She accosted me in our hotel, Flynn. It’s like she was waiting for me. She spun quite the story about how you seduced her, got her pregnant, and then told her to have an abortion.”
Flynn cursed in Gaelic and I went on, “She asked me for five hundred thousand dollars in exchange for her silence, otherwise she’s going to the press. What were you planning on doing?”
He didn’t reply.
“Whatever you’re planning, you expected to leave me out of it. Why?”
Again, he didn’t reply.
“I’m thinking the worst here. You realize that, don’t you? Is that why you didn’t tell me the whole story? I feel blindsided you didn’t give me all the information about her.”
“I can’t ask you to trust me?”
“It’s not a matter of trust,” I said. “Of course I trust you. But how were you planning on keeping Lila quiet? Paying her off is a gamble.”
“As is everything.”
“So you were going to pay her off, weren’t you?” I demanded.
“Since when have you ever known me to be backed into a corner?”
I paused. “She’s pregnant.”
“I’m aware.”
“Does that change how you’re planning on dealing with her?”
“Aye. For now.”
“Why didn’t you really tell me the truth about her?”
“You haven’t been… present.”
“Present,” I repeated. “The kids, you mean.”
“You’ve had a hard time—multitasking,” he said slowly.
“So you shut me out,” I stated.
“No, I—”
“Just admit it,” I snapped. “You think all of my priorities have shifted because I became a mother.”
“You’re different,” he said calmly. “It’s not good or bad, it’s just different. We’re different.”
“You still feel neglected.”
“What am I, a child?” he grumbled. “You think my not telling you about Lila extorting money was to get back at you because my feelings are hurt?”
“I don’t know what to think because you kept this from me! And I don’t believe you planned on telling me the truth. Ever.”
“Why would I?” he demanded. “So you have something else to worry about? I know what you’ve given up to be with me, what you’ve given up for our family. I wanted to shield you from all of this. From Lila’s accusations, from her lies—”
“I haven’t needed shielding since I took down a mob boss for you.”
His gaze darkened. “Don’t. Don’t pretend you killed Dolinsky solely for my sake. You did that for yourself.”
“Yes,” I spat. “Yes, I did. Because men like Dolinsky, men like Winters, men like you, Flynn Campbell, will always think women are weak.”
“I am not like those bastards. I don’t think you’re weak and you know it.”
“No, I don’t. Because if you thought I was as strong as you, you would’ve told me the moment you thought Lila St. James was going to be a problem.” My eyes turned from his. “Go away, Flynn.”
“As much as I want to give you space to cool off, we’ve got a bigger problem at the moment.”
Chapter 18
“Ramsey did what?” Ash yelled, jumping up off the couch.
Duncan calmly looked at his wife when he
repeated, “Stole Birmingham’s body.”
“He’s insane,” Ash went on, pacing across the floor of the penthouse suite.
I stood on the opposite side of the room, far away from Flynn. “How?” I asked. “I mean—yeah, how?”
“Forget how,” Ash interrupted. “Why? Why did he do it?”
“Because he didn’t believe what was in the autopsy,” Duncan said, explaining away his brother’s behavior.
“There was nothing in the autopsy,” Ash went on. “There was no obvious cause of death. No struggle.”
“Just like Arlington,” Flynn said. “Both have the white bird tattoo at their necks, both tox reports came back clean, and both autopsies revealed that neither of them struggled.”
“So Ramsey’s bright idea was to steal Lord Birmingham’s body and do what exactly?” I asked.
“Have our own man look at the corpse,” Flynn answered. “And it wasn’t his idea. It was mine. I told him to do it.”
“Our own man?” Ash squeaked. “Are you kidding? Stealing a corpse is a felony. At least it is in the U.S. I’m not sure about in England.”
“I’m gonna go with it’s a crime to steal bodies in any country,” I said, trying very hard and failing not to smile. I caught Ash’s eye and her mouth began to twitch. And then suddenly, we burst into laughter.
“Oh, God,” Ash said, wiping the tears from her eyes. “No one would believe me if I told them.”
“They still act surprised,” Duncan said to Flynn. “You think they’d be used to this kind of stuff by now.”
Getting myself under control, I said, “Are we done here? I’d like to shower.” I was still in my exercise clothes, having walked into our penthouse suite to an impromptu meeting.
“We’re done,” Flynn said, his eyes finding mine.
I didn’t hold his gaze as I strode towards the master bedroom. I whipped my grimy shirt over my head and entered the bathroom. I turned on the shower and while I was adjusting the temperature, the bathroom door opened.
“What are you doing?” I demanded when Flynn closed the door and began stripping off his suit.
“Showering with you.”