by Lee, Nadia
Natalie came to a decision. “If you don’t tell him, I will.”
“Tell who?”
“Alex. And Charlie too.”
Emily looked at her. “What are you trying to accomplish? Do you think that once they know the truth, they’ll just smile and become friends? Silly girl.” She reached down and straightened the crease in her slacks. “Whatever you’re trying to do will be futile anyway. Charlie won’t believe you because I’ll deny it to my last breath. As for Alex, he hates me. Probably doesn’t think much of Charlie, either, given his feelings for you. My advice is to worry about yourself instead.”
“Myself?”
“Of course. If you really are pregnant, you’ll have to find some sort of solution quickly. You don’t actually believe that Alex is going to take care of you and your baby, do you? Perhaps even make an honest woman out of you?” Emily laughed. “My dear girl, the apple never does fall far from the tree. James abandoned me, and Alex will do exactly the same thing to you if you give him the chance.”
“I think you should go, Emily.”
“Don’t forget that you’re not alone.” Emily reached out, but Natalie shrank away. Emily’s eyes turned angry, then quickly cooled. “I know what it’s like to be cast aside by the person you’ve given your heart to.” Emily opened the car door and got out. “You know how to reach me.”
* * *
Natalie collapsed on her couch. She didn’t remember the drive home. Everything had been a blur until she found herself in her condo. One thing kept going through her mind: How could Emily have been so cruel?
She dug into her purse and searched until she pulled out the home pregnancy test, then went into the bathroom and used it. She had to blink several times before she could focus on the rectangular section where lines were supposed to appear.
Negative.
She stood, one hand on her forehead. Was she relieved? Disappointed? Her thoughts were jumbled like a jigsaw puzzle.
Matto meowed, and Natalie picked him up, absently scratching behind his ears. She thought about telling Alex about Charlie. Or should she tell Charlie first?
But would Charlie believe her if Emily denied everything? For that matter, would Alex? There wasn’t much physical resemblance between the two men.
There was another possibility as well. Emily could have made the story up to compel Natalie to help the Rodales. The older woman truly believed that Rodale International belonged to her family. And Natalie was starting to wonder how far Emily would go to protect what was hers.
* * *
“This confirms it all,” Ethan said, entering Alex’s office. In his hand was a manila folder.
It was late in the evening. The entire floor was empty except for the two of them and an old janitor puttering around the cubicles. The rush-hour traffic was waning outside the windows.
Alex looked up from the email he’d been reading. His stomach knotted. Did Ethan actually have something concrete?
“Natalie left work earlier than usual. She met Emily Rodale and talked to her for about fifteen minutes.”
Alex waved his hand dismissively. “That could’ve been anything. Did your PI get anything specific?”
“That’s the thing. They met at a mall but went to Natalie’s car to talk. It’s like they didn’t want anyone to hear their conversation.”
“That still doesn’t prove anything. Natalie’s known Emily forever.”
“There’s more.” Ethan took a deep breath, his eyes full of sympathy. “I have a contact in the NSA. The Rodale bid… They undercut the number I gave Natalie by just enough to win the project.”
“It still—”
“And the scope of the work is exactly the same as the specs I gave her.” Ethan placed the folder on the desk.
Alex’s hands tightened into fists. “Are you sure? Can you trust this NSA person?” He shook his head. “It could’ve been a coincidence.”
“Alex, come on! This is the third time Rodale’s been able to send in bids like thi—”
“Shut up,” Alex said softly.
“I’m sorry.”
“Shut up!”
Ethan nodded and left.
Alex felt sick. He couldn’t believe Natalie was the mole. Even though Ethan had warned him, he’d rejected the idea. There was a mistake. There had to be.
He opened the folder and reviewed the documents inside. The more he read, the sicker he felt.
The weather outside the window was overcast, the city lights reflecting off low, pewter clouds. Alex watched them as they slid slowly to the west. His eyes burned, and he felt cold, so cold, like he was stuck inside a block of ice and would never be warm again.
Was this how his father felt when he’d realized he’d been betrayed? He wished Ethan weren’t so good at his job.
Now Alex had no choice. He had to deal with the situation, and no matter what move he played, he was going to lose.
Chapter Seventeen
Late that night, Natalie opened her condo door in her bathrobe and was shocked when she found Alex on the other side. He looked awful and reeked of alcohol. He waved at her, swaying slightly, and gave her a lopsided grin.
She took his arm, helping him inside. “How much have you had to drink?”
“Not enough.” He fell onto the couch. His head rolled and rested against the back. “You look good, Natalie.”
She stood in front of him and crossed her arms. “Thank you,” she said dryly. “Is everything all right?”
He laughed. “You tell me.”
She sighed. Whatever had prompted him to get wasted like this, there was obviously no point in talking right now. “I think you should sleep it off. Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” He gave her an exaggerated frown. “I don’t feel too sleepy.”
“You can go to sleep, or I’ll call you a cab. I don’t approve of drunkenness.”
“Oh, I forgot. The Rodales would never get drunk, huh?”
An internal alarm went off. Had he found out that Charlie was his half-brother? Or was it something else?
“Cat got your tongue?” A nasty little smile twisted his lips. “Got anything to tell me?”
She fidgeted under his gaze. Finally, she blurted out, “I’m not pregnant.”
It took a while to penetrate. “Well! That certainly is a relief. Nothing to bind us now.”
She blinked furiously as tears suddenly stung her eyes. He couldn’t possibly mean what she thought he did.
He shrugged and muttered, “Probably wouldn’t have mattered anyway.”
Her insides grew cold. “Why are you doing this, Alex?”
“Don’t you know?”
“I don’t like playing games.”
“Games?” He rose, his eyes growing alert and sharp. He reached out, framed her face roughly with his big, warm hands. “I hate you so much it hurts,” he said between clenched teeth.
Natalie couldn’t breathe. It was as if she’d suddenly been transported into a nightmare.
“What did Emily promise you? Is Charlie going to marry you for betraying me? Gonna get yourself a big piece of that Rodale pie?”
How did he know Emily and Charlie had asked her to help them?
“How much are they paying you to sell me out?”
“What?”
“Don’t pretend. You’re the one who’s been spying for them all along. You gave them the bid figures.”
“No!” She couldn’t believe this. “Is that what this is all about? Of all the stupid things to—”
“Don’t lie to me!” He pushed her away from him, making her stumble. “The NSA bid file you worked on wasn’t even real! We know the bid Rodale submitted. It was just enough to beat the numbers you gave them. ”
Suddenly, it was freezing in her condo, and Natalie hugged herself. Alex thought she was a traitor. She remembered Ethan giving her the manila folder right after Alex had gone to Hong Kong, how he’d insisted that she work on it alone. Humiliation suffocated her
as she recalled how she’d given herself to Alex so wantonly. “You bastard! You were planning this even before we slept together!”
“I’m the bastard? You’re a good actress, and a hell of a lay, but don’t think that’s enough to fool me.”
She pointed at the door with a shaking finger. “Get out!”
“Oh, I’ll go. But before I leave,” he said, his face contorted with rage, “there’s something you should know. You weren’t a foundling. Your lofty father won you. On a bet. In China.”
Blood roared in her ears, and she could barely hear anything over the pounding of her heart. “Wha—what? How…how do you know?”
“Brian’s been in my way one too many times, protecting the Rodales. Nothing would make him back off. So I had to find something bad enough that he’d have to abandon them.”
Stop siccing your nasty boyfriend…
“I had several investigators dig into his past,” Alex continued. “They finally found something I could use against him—human trafficking. Imagine the scandal it would cause—‘Senator Wins Daughter in Game of Chance.’ He’s been blustering, but I know he’ll stop protecting the Rodales. He’ll be lucky to avoid jail. Is there a statute of limitations on buying and selling children?
“Still, raised by a man like that…” Alex shook his head. “I should’ve known you’d think nothing of sneaking around, spying for money. I want your resignation first thing tomorrow morning. Your things will be delivered to you. Don’t even think about coming in unless you want to be arrested for trespassing.”
His eyes raked her, left her raw and bleeding. Then he left, slamming the door shut behind him.
* * *
Stumbling along the sidewalks, Alex let out a few choice words. He needed to call a cab. Even if he hadn’t been drinking, he was in no condition to drive. He was too angry…too emotional. His whole body was shaking uncontrollably.
God. He hated her and the way her chocolate eyes seem to draw him in, even when he knew her for what she really was. He hated himself for wanting her despite all she’d done to him. He’d wanted her to tell him the truth. Everything. He would’ve covered it up. Pretended nothing had ever happened, no harm done. She would have had to resign, of course, but he could’ve still been with her, found it in his heart to forgive her.
He hadn’t intended to tell her about the adoption, but when she’d ordered him to get out, acting like some kind of queen, something had snapped inside his heart. His face twisted into a snarl. Where were the damned cabs?
He would ruin the Rodales and take the Halls down too, for good measure. He wanted them all to burn in hell, especially Natalie. That way, he’d have some company.
Chapter Eighteen
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Natalie put a hand on her churning stomach and then, covering her mouth with the other, ran to the bathroom and threw up until there was nothing left. When she was finished, she half-knelt, half-sat on the floor next to the toilet, the cool porcelain under one elbow, her head in her hand. Finally she stood and stared at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her face blotchy. She began cleaning herself up.
Your lofty father won you. On a bet. In China.
Tears of frustration and anger welled in her eyes. All it had taken was an instant for her life to be completely destroyed. Her lover, her career, even her identity—nothing was ever going to be the same. Alex had never wanted to help her at her parents’ house. Everything he’d done had been to help himself, and everything he’d told her was a lie. And she’d believed him and given him everything.
For a time, despair threatened to overwhelm her. But then another emotion began to well up from deep inside, from the strongest and most resilient part of her. Slowly, then more quickly, anger took her over, pushing the despair aside.
She wanted answers.
She threw on some clothes and rushed out, her feet so quick that she almost tripped. Her car beeped as she disabled the alarm and climbed inside. The Halls’ house wasn’t that far, and traffic would be light this time of night.
The halogen lamps over the highway blurred into bright orange streaks as she sped onto I-66, then the Beltway. The speedometer was close to triple digits, but she didn’t care. She needed to see Brian.
Now.
And then what? Could she accuse him of winning her like she were a…a thing?
Her car lurched to a stop in front of the opulent mansion. A few windows were lit, including Brian’s study. Louise’s Mercedes wasn’t in the driveway. Good. Natalie didn’t want to deal with her right now.
Natalie rushed to the house, still holding her car keys. She pounded on the door until it opened.
“What are you doing here at this hour?” Belle’s eyes flashed. “Are you out of your mind?”
“I just might be.”
Natalie pushed past her and moved to climb the staircase to the second floor, where Brian’s study was, but Belle ran and got in front of her.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“None of your business,” Natalie said. “Get out of my way.”
Belle put her hands on her hips. “You want to see Dad. You won’t bother to help out with the campaign, but you don’t mind coming over in the middle of the night. What makes you think you can just barge in and demand to see him whenever you want?”
Something snapped inside Natalie.
“Why should I be part of the campaign? You and Louise made sure I wouldn’t feel welcome anywhere around this family. I can’t even come and go freely here, because I had to give my house key back when I moved out! Seriously, you don’t really consider us sisters, do you?”
She felt a small satisfaction as Belle’s jaw dropped. Capitalizing on her temporary shock, Natalie ran around her and up the stairs until she reached Brian’s study. She didn’t bother to knock, just opened the door and walked in.
“Natalie.” Brian looked up from his desk with a hint of a smile on his face, the patrician forehead wrinkling up above his glasses. “What a surprise.”
He was the only one in the family who indulged her infrequent lapses in social propriety. Was it because she had been won and he felt she couldn’t do any better?
“Have a seat. What brings you out at this hour?”
She closed the door but didn’t sit down. Now that she was face-to-face with Brian, she hesitated. There was the heavy smell of books and wood. His enormous mahogany desk dominated the area near the off-white bay windows, and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves groaned under the weight of leather-bound volumes. This was his inner sanctum and the seat of his power, a place Natalie had rarely visited.
“I was just about to have a nightcap. Would you like something?” he said.
When she didn’t say anything, his smile slowly shrank. He stood up behind his desk, peeling his glasses off. “Is something the matter?”
Seeing the stolid bulk of her father standing there, Natalie knew Alex was wrong. He had to be. He must have said those horrible things because he thought she’d betrayed him.
“Did you…” Natalie shook her head. “Tell me how you found me,” she said, her voice hoarse.
Brian frowned slightly. “I’ve already told you that, sweetheart.”
She stared at him. She knew his face as well as her own—the compassionate blue eyes, the mouth that could convey friendliness or steadfast resolve, depending on the situation. It was a perfect politician’s face, and looking at it, she decided that she would never be able to read it if she gave him time to prepare.
“Did you win me on a bet in China?”
A fine tremor went through his body, and his features seemed to freeze in place.
“Oh my god,” she whispered. “How could you? You bought me?”
Brian started to come around his desk. His hip hit the edge, and he almost tripped. “Natalie. That’s not how it happened.”
“Then tell me!” Natalie put a hand over her mouth, horrified at how hysterical she sounded and how the life she’d kno
wn had been a lie. A wager won. That was all she’d ever been to the Halls. Her entire life was a pathetic farce. Was it any wonder her adopted family resented her presence and Alex had used and discarded her? Not even her birth family had wanted her.
“My lord. I never thought you’d find out.” Brian looked at her a moment, indecisive, then went to a small rolling bar and took his time putting a couple of ice cubes into a glass. He poured himself two fingers of whiskey, the ice crackling. Still facing away from her, he said, “Your great uncle was an ambassador to China thirty years ago. I accompanied him because I was thinking of joining the Foreign Service, although the family was pressuring me to follow in my father’s footsteps and go into politics.” He turned to her. “Louise couldn’t come because she was sure that… Well, it’s not important.” He paused and took a swallow of his drink.
Natalie’s lips twisted. She could imagine why Louise hadn’t wanted to go: she didn’t like any place that didn’t cater to her standards—that was to say, elite American standards.
“I met a local man there. He worked in a restaurant many of the expats liked.”
“My real father?” Natalie held her breath. “What kind of person was he?”
“I don’t know if he was your father or not. But he was quiet. Compact. Intense eyes. Looked young for his age.” Brian swirled his drink, his eyes focused on the past. “We called him Chang, but that may not have been his real name.
“Some of the Chinese resented our presence, but he was friendly enough. Showed me the city, taught me about the local customs. His English wasn’t good, but it was serviceable, and we became fairly close. He was taller than most of the others, almost my height, and I gave him one of my shirts as a present once.” He took another drink. “About one year after we met, we went to a bar. We had some drinks—too many, when I think about it now—and played some Chinese games. You know, mahjong, like that. He wanted to bet, said it wouldn’t be fun otherwise. And I agreed. Why wouldn’t I? I figured I might lose maybe a hundred dollars at the most. It wasn’t that much to me, even back then. And if I lost more, well, it would have been okay. I knew the family would bail me out.” He shook his head. “Except they couldn’t help me out at all. The scandal…God!”