Refusing to rise to this bait, Kris stared at him as coolly as she could. Her trepidation had returned now, causing her hands to tremble beneath the desk. She refused to allow this bitter old man to see any victory, however, but said:
“So, you obviously don’t believe that my accusations against your son count for anything, and no doubt you’ll do everything you can to have Daniel tried for assault. Why, precisely, am I here, Mister Roth?”
He stared at her now, watching her intently, weighing her—evaluating her. “The rape charge will, indeed, come to nothing. It would be simpler, however, if a court case were not to proceed. It is... time consuming. For Daniel’s release, however, I need something more.”
Kris did not speak, letting him continue with his demands. After a few seconds he sighed.
“Daniel knows what it is. As you may or may not be aware, Stone Enterprises is not as healthy as it once was, and for some godforsaken reason Daniel has been trying to raise capital through various sources to buy out some of the other shareholders. He approached me in New York, and I think he was also planning on doing the venture capital rounds here in San Francisco before he realised Francis was in town. Anyway, Daniel knows my offer. I don’t want to help him prop up his shares: I want them—all of them. Tell him I’m willing to make a deal, a hundred million for the lot. It might not be what he thinks they’re worth, but if he carries on at this rate he’ll be lucky to get a tenth of that before long.”
A hundred million. The sum was almost meaningless to Kris, a sum far beyond her personal reckoning though she quickly knew that this was not a deal that was favourable to Daniel.
“And if he says no?” she asked.
Roth stared at his fingernails imponderably. “Then he can remain in jail,” he replied after a while, “and watch the value of his company crash and burn. That’s assuming he remains in place long enough to see that happen. I’m also in touch with Felix Coltraine.” His smile was mean. “We are, I think, very close to a deal.”
At the mention of Felix’s name, Kris’s chest suddenly went cold and her heart beat with an erratic thump inside her.
“I’ve no idea what he’ll do,” she began to reply, “but I think—“
“Don’t think!” he suddenly shouted, bringing his fist down on the table. “You’re not here to think. You’re here to deliver a message to Daniel Stone. Don’t make any mistake about that. You’re just a moocher, a taker. Don’t get ideas above your station. Tell Daniel what I said, and do your best to convince him that this is what he needs to do.” His final message was delivered with a snarl. “He might still end up with something to his name.”
Chapter Sixteen
After she left Maximilian Roth’s house, Kris had to hold herself in strict control. Suddenly feeling incredibly alone, she realised that she could no longer trust Kurt or anyone else that Daniel had hired to look after while he was in prison, but she also dared reveal nothing of what had taken place.
Now she was surrounded by enemies or potential enemies, and as she walked slowly to the car she almost stumbled at that terrible realisation. Recovering, however, she entered the car with as much dignity as she could muster, only the paleness of her face, as rigid as marble, indicating that all was not well.
She was glad now that the treacherous security guard and driver were separated from her by a window, but her fear was also mixed with an almost overwhelming sense of guilt. Oh, Daniel, she howled silently. What have I done? The only man she could rely on was locked away. It wasn’t her fault, the rational part of her mind told herself. This is always what happens! Women blame themselves! Yet she could not help but feel that her determination had driven events so that now Daniel was a prisoner.
She remained silent until they reached the hotel. When she left the car, she opened the door before Kurt could climb out and, shaking with anger and terror, she turned to face him.
“Get back in that car!” she snarled. “Get back in and fuck off. All of you! I don’t want to see any of you again—not you, not Willard! Do you understand?”
Kurt was impassive as he stood there. Although not as tall as Daniel, he was considerably broader and brawnier. What was he? she wondered. Ex army? A former marine? He could have crushed her as though she were a fly, and the realisation of her child inside her also made her aware of just how vulnerable she was.
None of this mattered, however. There were too many people around, and she had the sense that while Kurt was treacherous in financial matters he had too much physical discipline to risk being seen hurting her here. The worst he could do would be to bundle her into the car—but where then? She had the strongest intuition that Maximilian Roth wanted her to deliver his message to Daniel: certainly the billionaire could employ any countless number of other people to do his bidding, but he realised that only she would have the means to reach through Daniel’s stubbornness if she so desired. The only thing that was important now was to get rid of Roth’s spies.
Still he watched her for a few moments, his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. She heard a faint buzzing at his ear and his concentration shifted for a few seconds. Then he simply nodded and, without looking back at her, returned to the car.
She did not wait to watch it drive away, but made her way carefully into the lobby of the hotel. Her limbs felt as though they were lead, and she was sick in her guts that left her feeling dreadful. Nonetheless, she controlled herself, attempting to prevent any signs of fear or trembling being visible as she made the apparently infinite journey to the elevator. Once inside, she still held herself in an iron grip. Now, more than ever, she could not let go, could not show the weakness she felt inside herself.
It was only after she had opened the door to her suite—to their suite—fumbling with the electronic key and half-staggered inside that she collapsed onto a chair and began to sob, almost hysterically. “Oh God!” she moaned aloud. “Oh, God—Daniel!”
For a few seconds, she was incoherent: a sense of disaster threatened to flood over her, drowning out all sense of self. She struggled against it, fighting against it with what little strength she retained.
And then, in the darkness, her conversation with Maximilian Roth returned to her. Now, however, it did not fill her with fear, terrifying as it was in so many ways. He had barely hinted at the terrible fortunes that lay ahead of her if she sought to oppose his will, and she did not doubt that he would be relentless in his pursuit of her and Daniel.
Yet so much of what he said had been lies, lies and ignorance. Maximilian Roth knew power, certainly. She had never been in the presence of a man who so barely veiled his contempt of the world and all it contained. But that was his weakness. All he knew was power. In that big, old house on the hill, he was isolated—completely and utterly alone. All he could do was impose his will on others, but he would never know what it was to feel for another inside himself.
As soon as she articulated this sudden knowledge to herself, she realised how feeble and fragile it sounded, how pathetic. Yet she clung to it. When first she had met Daniel Stone—Daniel Logan—he had been following this same road to isolation, a path that would lead him to utter desolation, as dead inside as Maximilian Roth. She thought instead of his humour in the prison, so unexpected to her: he was biding his time, waiting, comforting her when he needed most to be comforted. In thinking of her and her child—their unborn child—he had found a quiet strength that Roth would never know.
Wiping away her tears, she cursed and chided herself. “Stop being such a baby!” she hissed. “Think!”
She realised that she would need to speak to Nathan Armstrong but she was afraid of doing this at first. What if Roth had got to him? What if he wasn’t to be trusted? Yet she knew nobody else in San Francisco: if she couldn’t trust anyone, then she would be imprisoned as effectively in this hotel as Daniel in jail. Paranoia would remove all chance she had to help her husband effectively.
So she would, after all, need to contact the lawyer. She could consider how best
to arrange a meeting with Elaine Christiansen when the time came, but first she had to talk to Daniel about Roth’s offer, and for that she needed help.
She took off her jacket: before making that phone call, she would need to refresh herself. Before she could make her way to the bathroom, however, there was a knock at the door, causing her to freeze. She suddenly realised that for the past few days the treacherous security men had prevented her from receiving any unwelcome visitors, even as they had been spying on her activities for Roth. Now there would be no such protection.
The knock was repeated. “Who is it?” she called out. There was no answer, and her stomach churned again with deep dread.
“I said, who’s there?”
Moving carefully to the door, she placed her eye to the spy hole. What she saw filled her not with fear, but burning anger.
Yanking open the door, she reached through with a look of fury and grabbed hold of Maria Gosselin, her fist gripping the blonde hair of the other woman who reached up a hand instinctively, her mouth twisted in a yelp of pain. As she moved, her own sunglasses fell to the floor, and for a second Kris felt a sensation of triumph and adrenaline as she saw the look of unmitigated fear in those green eyes.
“You!” she hissed. “What are you doing here? How dare you show yourself, you fucking bitch!”
“Please, please!” Maria cried out. Her hand came up ineffectually to grapple with Kris’s, but the feelings of demoniacal outrage that flooded through Kris gave her an unnatural strength.
“Who’s with you?” Looking down the corridor, Kris couldn’t see anyone. “Who sent you?”
“No-one, no-one sent me! Please, you have to believe me!”
“Why should I believe one goddamn word that you say!”
Though she was dressed as elegantly as ever, and smothered in the insufferable perfume that Kris knew far too well, the French lawyer looked utterly pitiful as she squirmed beneath Kris’s iron hand. “Please,” she pleaded, her voice almost a whisper. “I have to speak to you.”
In disgust, Kris released her grip and let her hand fall down. She did not even bother looking back as she returned into the apartment, moving instead to the drinks cabinet and pouring herself a whisky. Some nascent sense of responsibility flared up inside her, a cry from her conscience to consider the other life inside her, but she forced the voice down: there would be plenty of time to take care of her baby, but now more than anything she needed a drink.
“What the fuck do you want?” she said, knocking back the golden liquid with one jerk of her hand, savouring the fire as it ran down her throat. “This had better be good.”
“How... how is he?” Maria’s eyes were furtive, glancing around the room. When they crossed Kris’s path, however, the younger woman noted with some satisfaction that Maria positively flinched.
“What do you care?”
At this, Maria’s face almost collapsed in pain. Mastering herself, she pulled herself straight. She looked in Kris’s general direction, but her green eyes could not make full contact with the other woman.
“I want to help.”
At this, Kris let out a wild cackle of laughter. “Help!” she mocked. “The only way you can help is by pissing off back to France. No, better still, take a boat out into the bay and jump in. Good riddance!”
For a few seconds Maria said nothing in reply. Her head bowed momentarily, but then she raised it again, looking towards the window rather than at Kris.
“You don’t understand what Roth intends to do,” she said very quietly.
“Oh, I understand all right. He wants to ruin Daniel.”
Fleetingly, the green eyes flashed towards Kris, made contact, then dropped away in shame. Maria nodded.
“This... prosecution, it’s just a cover. I... I understand that Maximilian has been planning to get Daniel for some time.”
Now Kris did pause. She wanted to hit this treacherous woman in front of her—another spy for Roth, another traitor. Her spine went cold, however, as the significance of Maria’s words sank in.
“Go on,” she said, coldly.
“I think... I think he’ll make an offer to Daniel, something ridiculous.”
“I know that!”
Maria shook her head. “That’s not all, though. After... afterwards he intends to get Daniel, to frame him for something they did in the past.”
“What?”
“I... I don’t know. Some business deal. I don’t know the details—I don’t. But Roth doesn’t just want to take Daniel out of the equation, he wants to ruin him, utterly.”
Kris could barely believe what she was hearing. “Is this because of the rape charge against his son?”
“I don’t think so. I’m not sure but... there’s something else, something deeper. I don’t think Maximilian even cares about Francis that much.” Maria’s face twisted in a rictus of self-loathing. “You can’t win, you know.”
Bitterly, Kris nodded her head. “I’ve started to realise that. The only person who can help me—who can really help me—is locked up, and I know I won’t be able to see him again until I drop the charges. With lovely, respectable witnesses like you,” she sneered, “I won’t stand a chance, and I’ve already begun to realise what kind of smear campaign’s being run against Daniel.” She placed her empty glass on the cabinet and walked towards Maria, stopping barely a foot before her. This proud, elegant woman, once so desirable to her, now seemed pitiable and weak.
“What I don’t get is why?”
Maria did not answer immediately, but instead half-gazed out of the window, looking past Kris’s shoulder.
“Do you know why Francis tried to... take you?”
“No, and I don’t care.”
“Well you should.” Now Maria did return Kris’s gaze, and her green eyes were steady, though tears were forming in them. “He was obsessed with Daniel. For a time... for a time Daniel replaced him in his father’s affections. Daniel Stone was everything that Maximilian Roth had ever wanted in a son.”
Kris suppressed an urge to sneer. Instead, she asked: “What of it?”
“I would have thought time would have... healed that old wound, but evidently not. Daniel Stone has you, so in Francis’s twisted mind if he takes you, he can be more like Daniel.”
“Oh, boo hoo.” Now Kris’s disgust could no longer be suppressed. “So if he rapes me, he can sort out his daddy issues, is that it? Well, I don’t care!”
Maria flinched at this sudden outburst.
“That’s not what’s important. I mean, I know what happens matters to you, and what happens to you matters to Daniel, but it’s not what matters. I think Maximilian believes that Daniel has betrayed him, some time in the past. I... I overheard him talking to someone, when he brought me over here. I think that he and Felix have arranged something. For months now, he’s being leading Daniel a merry dance, feeding him false hopes.”
“You mean he arranged his own son’s rape charge, just to get at Daniel?”
Now Maria couldn’t hold her scorn. “Of course not! Francis can’t control himself, but if the son thinks with his dick, don’t make the mistake of believing the father does the same. He’s simply taking advantage of an opportunity.”
She paused and took a deep breath, then stared directly at Kris.
“You can’t win your case. If you keep on going, then Daniel will be buried more quickly than you can possibly imagine.”
Despite herself, Kris was shaken by this, her hands trembling slightly. “Then what do you recommend I do?” she asked. The sarcasm in her voice was forced now.
“Drop the charges, get Daniel out of prison. Do whatever deal you need to do, then get as far away from here as you possibly can.”
Chapter Seventeen
The flight from San Francisco had been direct and very long, but she had managed to do little more than lightly doze, her sleep disturbed by dreams. Changing at Heathrow for another flight out to Lisbon was madness, but when she had realised that she would not be
able to see Elaine Christiansen for another two days she had pushed herself a little harder: for the past few weeks she had been cut adrift and now she needed to ground herself. She may have been brought up in London, but Lisbon was more her home now and she needed the security that home would bring her.
During the transatlantic flight, her mind had been running over events since she had met Maria Gosselin for the second and, she hoped, the last time. Afterwards, she had immediately contacted Armstrong: although part of her feared to trust anyone anymore, she also knew that what was taking place between Daniel and Maximilian Roth was far too large for her to comprehend. Some plot was afoot to trap him—she knew it—and she lacked the experience to know where the trap lay.
Nathan Armstrong had listened to her seriously, not doubting her word at all. On the contrary, he would sometimes ask her to go back over various details of the conversations with both Roth and Maria. Pushing at the glasses on his nose, he nodded at various points, making notes and comparing various details. When first she had met him, Kris had considered the lawyer to be something of a nervous figure, but she realised now that this had simply been a projection on her part. If anything, he was immensely efficient and, for the first time in several days, she felt herself partially comforted by a meeting with one of the many strangers she had encountered in San Francisco.
He had accompanied her the following day, driving her himself to the jail to visit Daniel. When he had heard about the treachery of Willard and the others, Daniel had cried out in such anger that the guards had threatened to intervene. Although he forced himself into a state approaching calmness, Kris could not ignore the fury in his eyes—and shivered slightly at the animosity that those security personnel had earned for themselves.
By contrast, when she provided an outline of the meetings with Maximilian and Maria, with Nathan offering some context for what he believed this proved for their situation, Daniel had seemed extremely calm. It was almost as though he had been prepared for this.
Refracted Crystal: Diamonds and Desire Page 15