Honor Bound

by Samantha Chase

  I glared down into her eyes and did my best to intimidate her—maybe even scare her. “No. It’s not yours. It was never yours. You stole it, and in my book, that makes you no better than Gentry and my father.”

  “You’re…you’re not going to tell my boss are you?” She stood very still now, like she’d pulled into herself, like my hurt and anger and her outburst earlier didn’t even exist.

  “She won’t hear it from me.” That was all I could say. I turned and walked away.

  It wasn’t until I was in the elevator and the doors had closed that I felt like I was going to be sick. What the hell had I just done? I had out and out bullied Ali—the woman that I thought I loved. Thought, I reminded myself. You thought you loved her. It was a good thing I never said anything to let her know of my feelings.

  She was just like everyone else. Her love came with strings.

  The elevator doors opened on my floor, and I stalked to my room and slammed the door behind me. I was done. Done being manipulated like some damn puppet by my father, my family, Gentry…everyone. No one was going to do this to me again. There was no way I was ever going to let another woman play me like Ali had for the last month.

  Ever.

  ***

  It was near midnight when I barged into my parents’ house. It was worth the fifty-minute drive to get there. Most of the lights were out, but I had a key. I let myself in and made my way to my father’s study first. I highly doubted that he’d be in bed already, and the idea of facing him alone—without my mother to witness it—was what I was hoping for.

  Sure enough, there he sat. One light was on in the obscenely massive study as John Maxwell sat and sipped his brandy and read though yet another batch of financial reports. I’d witnessed the scene so many times in my life that I knew it by heart.

  My first instinct was to go in with guns blazing and force him to admit what he’d done, how his unethical business practices had caught me in this emotional snare. But force wasn’t what was needed here. No, I needed to come at this from a completely different angle and maybe, just maybe, catch him off guard.

  “Good evening,” I said in a low voice, as I walked into the study.

  He looked up at me with mild surprise. “Sebastian?” He then glanced at his watch. “What on earth brings you out here so late?”

  For a moment, he almost sounded like a concerned parent. Then I remembered who I was dealing with and forced myself to stay focused. He wasn’t going to catch me off guard—not like Ali had earlier. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop by,” I said, taking a seat in a leather chair across from him.

  “Really, Sebastian,” he said with equal dryness as he took off his glasses. “Isn’t it a little late for social calls?”

  “Can’t a man come home when he wants to?”

  “I suppose,” he said cautiously. “Is that what this is about? Feeling nostalgic?”

  Not likely. “Would it surprise you if I said yes?”

  Taking his glass from the table beside him, he swirled the beverage for several long moments. “Let’s cut through the bullshit. Just tell me why you’re really here.”

  I nodded and leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “What would happen if word got out about how you had tampered with employee contracts and screwed dozens of people out of their benefits?” At the somewhat shocked look on his face, I sat back and relaxed. “Hypothetically, of course.”

  If there was one thing my father excelled at, it was that he’d never let anyone see him sweat. “Well, first we’d have go find out who had access to such information and do our best to keep it out of the press…issue gag orders and such. My legal team would make sure that it was nothing more than a blip in some second-rate newspaper.” He took a drink of his brandy. “Many people have tried to make a fuss out of trivial things—mainly out of greed—trying to make a buck off of Maxwells. They try. And they fail.”

  “But let’s just say—for the sake of argument—that someone succeeds in getting the word out there. And that they have irrefutable evidence of the crime. The kind of evidence that you cannot sweep away. The kind of evidence that could—quite possibly—result in significant legal difficulties. For you. For Ken. For several top executives. And your lawyers.”

  He slammed his drink down and stood. “What the hell are you talking about, Sebastian? Do you know something about this? Is this the threat that Ken was worried about? Because, if it is, you’re on my payroll, and it’s your job to prevent things like this from happening.”

  “Actually, I’m not technically on your payroll, and even if I was, I’m not on your payroll in the capacity you seem to think I am. I’m a bench-warmer in the grand scheme of things at Maxwells. I don’t do anything there. I have an office, and I read financial reports. Sometimes. Other than that, my position there is pretty useless.”

  “Well it wouldn’t be if you would take the initiative like I’ve been telling you to do since you got back from the damn service.”

  I looked up at him and almost wanted to smile. “That’s neither here nor there. The job that I’m doing for Ken was on a personal level—it has nothing to do with the company. And no. What I’m talking about has nothing to do with the threat that Ken was thinking he was in danger from. Actually, there is no danger to him other than himself. He’s a prick and people hate him. He should work on that.”

  “You’re wearing on my patience here,” my father said darkly. I could see that vein beginning to throb at his temple. One day, it was actually going to burst.

  “Oh, am I? Do you not like having someone come before you and waste your time? Make you feel like you don’t have any say in what’s going on? Is that what you’re telling me?”

  He sat back down and raked a hand through his thinning hair. “All right, obviously you have an agenda here. Why don’t you tell me what it is that you want?”

  “For starters, I want out of the company. Permanently.”

  “What? We have been over this before, Sebastian. You have a responsibility…”

  “To myself,” I interrupted. “I don’t care if I have to hold some bullshit spot on the board for voting stake or whatever, but other than that, I’m out.”

  “You have a lot of nerve. Without this company, you would have nothing.”

  “No, thanks to this company, I’ve lost everything.” I started to continue, but then reined myself in. I didn’t want to give him any leverage against me either. One way or another, I was going to get control of my life back. From everyone.

  “I want to be free to work with Levi, Cole, and Declan without your interference.”

  “You didn’t seem to mind my interference when you were looking for clients.”

  “My mistake. I realized that it came with too high a price.” I waited a minute for that to sink in. “My company is going to move forward without any negative interference from you. Is that understood?”

  He shook his head and laughed. “You must really think that you’ve got something big on me if you’re coming here and making these kinds of demands. I think it’s only fair to see what I’m bargaining with before we go any further.”

  I reached into my jacket and pulled out just a small sampling of the papers Ali had brought over earlier. I made sure that I chose the ones that would do the maximum damage. I tossed them over to my father and waited for his reaction.

  I didn’t have to wait long.

  “How…? Where…?” He looked up at me. “Where did you get these?”

  I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. What you need to know is that those papers there are just a small sampling—and copies, by the way—of what is out there. I’ve already sent copies to Levi, Cole and Declan for safe keeping—along with a legal team. Who, by the way, will be working for me and not you.”

  He paled. For the first time in my life I watched and saw that my father was actually a human who had blood flowing in his veins—because it had all drained away. “I can’t believe you’d do this.”

>   “And I can’t believe that you did that,” I said, pointing to the papers. I sat back and crossed one ankle over my knee and got comfortable in my seat. It was a good feeling to finally have the upper hand in a situation.

  “Sebastian,” he began, “you have to understand. This is how things are done all the time in business. If you would have just paid attention all the times I tried…”

  “Oh, no,” I said, effectively cutting him off. “This is not about me. This is about you. And what you—and Ken—did to dozens of innocent people.”

  “People get laid off all the damn time,” he said, suddenly coming back to his former self. “Why is this such a big deal?”

  “You tell me. Judging by your reaction to just seeing those papers, it seems to me like you know that this was more than just a simple round of layoffs. You screwed all of those people for no other reason than for greed.”

  “It’s not greed. It’s good business. You ask anyone…”

  “I’m not asking anyone. And I certainly wouldn’t ask anyone who was associated with you. I’m telling you now that this is about to hit the fan in a big way.”

  He swallowed hard, and if I wasn’t mistaken, he was beginning to sweat. He reached out and finished his brandy and then fell back against the sofa. “Okay,” he said wearily. “What is it that you want to stop this?”

  Now I actually did smile. “How do you know that I can stop this? How do you know that I’m not all for letting this get out to the public?”

  “Because like it or not, you’re a Maxwell, and if that had been your intention, you would have put it out there without giving me a head’s up. Unfortunately, that’s what we do. You would have leaked it to the press and then stood back and laughed.”

  “Well, it’s good to hear you finally admit to what a complete bastard you really are.”

  He glared at me. “You like to think that you’re different, but you’re not. Someday, this side of you will come out, too. Like it or not.”

  “No, it won’t. I’ve spent my entire live trying to be different—to be anything other than like you. Just once I wanted you to see me for who I was and to tell me that you were proud of me, but apparently that was too much to hope for.”

  “I never understood you. You always let it be known that you disapproved of everything we did. You were exhausting. You didn’t seem to mind living off the money the Maxwell name provided, and yet you snubbed your nose at us at the same time.” He ran a hand over his face. “Then you went off and joined the Marines, and for the life of me I couldn’t figure out why you would do such a thing. You didn’t need to.”

  “Yes, I did. I needed to get away. From you, from mom, from…this noose of a company You were stifling me. At least as a Marine I stood a chance. I could make a difference. If I stayed here, you would have just worn me down until I…turned into you.”

  We sat like that for more time than I even knew. It was the first honest conversation we had ever had. I was mentally exhausted and yet felt free for the first time I could remember. “I’m done playing this game with you, Dad. This isn’t going to go your way. Know that right now.” When he finally gave a slow nod, I continued, “This is what you’re going to do.”

  ***

  It was after four when I finally drove away. Probably not the smartest thing in the world to do—driving on nothing more than adrenalin. Again. But I didn’t want to spend the night under that roof. Not that the hotel was much better, but at least it was mine. Sort of.

  It didn’t hit me until I got back that everything was still set up from earlier when I had planned on the romantic evening with Ali. The night had done nothing but go downhill.

  And fast.

  I walked by all of the food and burned down candles. I ignored the light flashing on the phone. Stripping as I walked, I got to the bed and pretty much just crawled in. In a few hours I’d have to face the music for what I’d done. It was too much to think about.

  I was asleep before my head even hit the pillow.

  Eleven

  Ali

  So the last week had pretty much been miserable.

  Anger can only take you so far. Once that evens out, all you’re left with is loss.

  I hadn’t expected to feel so bad about ending things with Sebastian. After all, I’d known him for less than a month, and he’d made it pretty clear that he was just having fun with me. It had been nice to “get laid,” he’d said. Evidently, that was what we’d had.

  It shouldn’t seem like my entire world was different just because he was no longer in my life.

  It did, though.

  I didn’t fall into depression or anything. I kept getting up in the morning, doing my job, and taking care of things around the house. But there was always a dark void at the back of my mind, reminding me that something should have been filling it. Sebastian should have been filling it.

  I saw him a few times—just around the Gentry house, when I went over there to take care of last minute details for the gala on Saturday night. I tried to avoid him, but sometimes it was inevitable. I’d turn a corner and there he’d be, looking handsome and tired and sober. He never avoided my gaze, but it was hard to look him in the eyes, since there was something in his expression that hurt too much.

  We never talked.

  Soon, the gala would be over, though. Soon I’d never see him again.

  And soon I’d have no chance to do anything about what Maxwell and Gentry had done to my father and so many others. Sebastian had taken my evidence, but I still had one more week to find something else.

  I hadn’t done any searching all week, though. I wasn’t sure why. Maybe I’d just given up. Or maybe I’d changed my mind.

  “Ali,” Cheryl said sharply, as we were wrapping up in her office at the end of another long day. “Ali, did you hear me?”

  I blinked and tried to focus again. “What? No, I’m sorry. What did you ask?”

  “I asked what you were going to wear to the gala. Are you okay? You’ve been kind of weird this week.”

  I wasn’t surprised that she’d noticed, although I’d tried to act as normal as possible. “Yeah. Just tired, I guess.”

  She peered at my face, and I wasn’t sure what she saw there. “You should take a few days off after we’re done with this gala. You’ve been working really hard.”

  “I might. Thank you.”

  “So what are you going to wear?”

  I had only one dress that was remotely appropriate for evening events. “The black one.”

  She shook her head. “That won’t do. You’ve worn it too much, and it’s starting to look it.”

  “I don’t have money to buy another dress.” I knew she was right about my simple black dress, so I wasn’t offended. It was just one more thing that simply wouldn’t fall into place. It felt like everything in my life was as worn and tired as that dress.

  She reached into a drawer of her desk and pulled out her purse. “I thought you might say that. Looking good at events is part of the job, so you need to buy something better.” She took out a sealed bank envelope. “Here. Buy yourself a nice dress.”

  I stared down at the envelope and didn’t take it. “I can’t take your money.”

  “It’s not my money. It’s a business expense. Take it. That’s an order.”

  I took the envelope and, gauche or not, immediately unsealed it to see how much was in it. My eyes widened when I counted the number of hundred-dollar bills. “I can’t take this much. Any dress I buy won’t cost nearly this much.”

  “It should. It needs to be expensive, so don’t go to some discount store. I’m serious. If you show me a cheap knock-off, I’ll tell you to go back and buy something better.”

  “But still—“

  “Still nothing. Buy the dress. If there’s any extra, then keep it as a bonus. Give your family a treat, since you’ve been working so hard.” When I started to object again, she gave me a steely gaze. “Seriously, Ali. I’m the boss here. You’ve done a great job w
ith this gala, and I want you to know I appreciate you. Buy yourself a really nice dress and use the extra however you want.”

  I swallowed, strangely touched. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I stared down at the money and wondered what store I should start in. Then wondered—sadly and rather stupidly—what Sebastian would think when he saw me in my new dress.

  ***

  When I got home that evening, I knew something was wrong.

  Something always felt wrong at home—it had for the last several years—but something felt more wrong than normal.

  The television was blaring as always, when I stepped into the kitchen entrance. The kitchen was a mess, with dirty dishes piled up from the day in the sink and on the counter and—for some reason—cereal spilled on the floor. I was used to the kitchen being a mess, though.

  Something else felt wrong.

  I put down my bag and keys and instinctively grabbed the dust pan to brush up the spilled cereal, so it wouldn’t get stepped on and turned into dust any more than it already had. When I threw the crumbs away, I went out to the living room, expecting to see my dad.

  Instead, I saw Tyler and my dad. They were watching a game on the television, and both of them had bottles of beer in their hands. There were several empty bottles already on the coffee table. There were chips littering the carpet, and the room smelled like body odor, and it suddenly hit me as absolutely repellant.

  Tyler was eighteen, by the way, and a senior in high school, if I haven’t mentioned it before. He was a good-looking boy who was good at sports and always made friends easily. I wasn’t sure when he’d turned into my dad.

  I stood there and stared at them, almost dizzy with the feeling of disgust and helplessness. This was my family. Turned into this. And my only attempt to right the wrong had ended up a brutal failure.

  Now I had to clean up this room and clean up the kitchen and fix something for dinner for all of us and go check on Rosie, who was probably hiding in her room.