“I need to stay close to Harper,” Eric states. “I’m going with her. I want to be at the hotel in case she needs me.”
“And what if Isaac shows up?” I challenge. “You’ll both be on edge, years of history between you. You’ll both end up in jail.” I step in front of him and plant my hand on his chest. “Stay here. Savage and I will go and come right back. Please. I beg of you.”
“She’s right, man,” Savage says. “And Blake’s on his way over here anyway. He wants to talk about what comes next.”
“We bury him,” Eric replies dryly. “That’s what comes next.”
I swear his body vibrates beneath my touch with those words. “Eric,” I whisper softly.
“I’m coming with you,” he says. “I’ll stay out of sight, but I need to be there if you need me.” He eyes Savage. “Have Blake meet me at the hotel.”
Savage studies him with hard eyes, and a harder set to his jaw, before he gives into the inevitability of his employer’s order and inclines his chin. “Understood,” he says, pulling his phone from his pocket and shooting off a text.
“What about Grayson?” I ask.
“We’ll turn him back around,” Savage replies, “but I suggest you call him, Eric. He won’t take the dismissal easily.”
Eric nods and walks to the hallway table, sticking his gun in his waistband and then opening the drawer to remove what I suspect is yet another weapon. I’m going to tell my mother that her husband is dead, and yet, I feel as if we’re headed to war. Are we? Is this where we reach our conclusion? Is this where the truth explodes and destroys anyone it can in its path?
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Harper
A few minutes later, the three of us are loading into an SUV. Savage is in the passenger seat, while Smith takes the wheel. “I thought you were with Grayson,” Eric says, eyeing Smith as he and I get settled in the back.
“I was already in the SUV to take Grayson to see you,” Smith says. “It made sense to drop him off and pick you up. We have men with Grayson and Mia.”
Eric nods and settles into his seat, his hand finding my hand, but he doesn’t look at me. He just holds me. He holds me like he doesn’t want to let go, like he feels like he’ll never touch me again once he does. He’s lost everyone and I know he feels like he’ll lose me, too, and yet, he’s put it all on the line with me. He’s decided I’m worth the risk.
Savage’s phone rings and I’m jolted with the memory of the call from Gigi. I consider telling Eric about it, but I quickly nix that idea. I see no good in telling him that his grandmother was being attacked, or so it seemed. He might hate her, but he just lost his father. He’s about to let me walk into a situation he feels is volatile. Now is not the time to tell him. I can’t risk being a trigger that brings him to his knees.
We pull to the side alleyway by the hotel and me, Savage, and Eric get out of the SUV. “What are we doing?” I ask Savage.
“We’re having you wear a wire.” he holds up the device and Eric takes it from him, stepping between Savage and me, blocking me from his view.
“We need to put it between your breasts,” Eric says. “That’s a good spot to pick up the conversation and remain unseen.”
I nod and he helps me place the microphone and wires, his touch sending shivers down my spine. “Whatever happens, whatever she says, keep her talking. Find out everything you can find out so that we can do just what you said: end this.”
“Okay. Yes. I’m in for that strategy.”
“I’ll be close. I’ll be listening in. Let’s test the sound.”
We do that with Savage and Smith. Once we’re done, Eric motions for them to leave us alone. Eric then removes a small handgun from his waistband. “Just in case.”
“This is my mother,” I remind him.
“I get that,” he says. “But as you pointed out, what if Isaac shows up?”
I inhale and let it out, nodding my understanding. He walks me through how the weapon functions and I slide it into my purse.
“You need to walk around the front and enter the lobby. If you need me—”
“I always need you,” I say, pressing to my toes and kissing him.
He cups my head and gives me a long, drugging kiss. “Hurry up and come back to me then,” he says, turning me to face in the direction I need to walk.
And so I do. I leave him behind, and it feels like that’s exactly what I’m doing: leaving him behind. I round the corner and enter the hotel, and for no good reason, I feel like I’m never going to be the same. Like we’re never going to be the same.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Eric
The numbers in my head count down and fling sequences at me in a random rotation that might mean something if I slowed them down. I don’t even try. They haven’t stolen my control. At this point, they pulse and spin, they fill my mind, but they don’t own it. I meant what I said to Harper. They’re cold comfort right now, the distraction that won’t let me chase ideas and emotions. They allow me to hyper-focus on this moment, to narrow my thoughts. To walk down the alleyway in pursuit of Harper, with Savage by my side, in controlled agitation. “You didn’t call Grayson,” he reminds me. “He’s texting me and you.”
I don’t look at him. “He’ll understand. He’d be just like I am right now if this was Mia walking into a minefield.”
“You really think her mother’s that volatile?”
“She does,” I say, as we round the corner to the hotel entrance. “She knows her mother and the very fact that she’s worried about her agenda speaks volumes to where we’re at right now. Her mother is a problem.”
“Agreed, but she wouldn’t hurt her daughter.”
I eye Savage. “If I thought she would, Harper wouldn’t be going up to the room alone.” We pause at the entrance of the hotel. “We stand out together. You take the lobby. I’m going to the bar where Blake can meet me.” I don’t wait for his approval or agreement. I enter the hotel, a fancy number with a big price tag befitting the Kingston standard. I walk through dual seating areas hugging my path, eyeing the registration desk to my left, where Harper is now turning away from the counter. She hurries to the right, and then walks into the bar, not toward the elevators.
I pass the desk and turn left to a sitting area that is a bar occupied with couches and chairs in burgundy and brown, with oversized pillows meant to irritate people, or at least me. Harper motions me forward, and screw it, I’m here. If there’s someone watching, they might as well know, because then they also know I’m trouble they don’t want. I close the space between her and me and sit down. “She’s not answering in her room. They won’t let me up.” She pulls out her phone. “I’m trying to call her.” She listens a minute and it clearly goes to voicemail. “Mom. Mom, I’m here at your hotel. I need you to call down and let me come up.” She disconnects. “I’m worried. What if she found out he’s dead and is melting down? I think I should ask the manager to walk me up, or just to go check on her.”
“Yes. Do it. I’m not going with you. I don’t want him telling her that I’m by your side, and her using that as a reason not to see you.”
Harper shoves her phone back inside her purse and hurries away. I move to the other side of the table to be able to watch her. The waitress approaches me and I order a whiskey. Blake slides in across from me. “Make that two.”
The waitress hurries away and Blake wastes no time getting to the point. “There are things you need to know before Harper heads upstairs to see her mother.”
“Speak quickly.”
“I know what Gigi meant when she called Harper.”
I stiffen. “Gigi called Harper?”
“You don’t know?”
“No, I don’t fucking know. When?”
“Right when you were finding out about your father, man. I’m sure that’s why she called me and didn’t tell you. Gigi thought she was being attacked. It was my man trying to get to her but that worked in our favor. She called Harper and ran her mout
h.”
She didn’t fucking tell me. I don’t like that. I don’t like it one fucking bit. “Did she now? What’d she say?”
“That her mother knows the truth. That Isaac knows that you’re not a bastard. Harper didn’t catch that part of the conversation. The call was choppy but we cleaned the recorded version up. She said, that you’re not a bastard.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Blake? Stop speaking in code because I’m focused on Harper right now. Not a game and a puzzle.”
“Read this.” He slides a folder in front of me and I stare down at the contents, reading a summary that has me sucking in air.
It’s then that Harper pokes her head into the bar. “They’re taking me upstairs. I’m going up now.” She dashes away toward the elevator and I want to run after her. I have to stop her because I know what her mother is going to tell her. I know what Harper might think. I know what I would think if I was her. This might be the end of us. I stand up and start walking, but Blake catches my arm.
“Let her go.”
I rotate to face him. “You think I did this? You think I killed him?”
“No, man.” He stands and faces me. “But I think Harper’s about to find out who did. Let her. End this.”
“She’s going to tell Harper everything in that file I just read.”
“Yes. She will. And Harper will either believe in you or she won’t. Don’t you want to know which it is?”
I inhale and sit back down. Blake sits down across from me this time. We both turn on our headsets and we listen as Harper chats with the hotel employee leading her to her mother’s door. “She flew in late,” Harper says. “She’s tired, I’m sure, but—well, as I said, her husband died and I’m terrified she found out and had a medical crisis.”
“Of course,” the other woman says. “I have our team on standby to get medical help for her quickly. Here we are,” she adds.
I can tell they’ve stopped walking. There’s knocking on the door. “Mrs. Kingston?” calls out the other woman.
“Mom?!” Harper shouts out.
This continues for a good five minutes. “When do we open the door?” Harper asks.
It’s right then that I hear the door open. “Harper. Jesus. How did you even find my hotel?”
“Oh my,” the hotel employee says. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—she was worried and—I can escort her back downstairs.”
“No,” Harper’s mother states. “She can come in.”
“Thank you,” Harper says, I assume to the attendant. “Thank you for your help. She did nothing wrong, mother. There’s something I need to tell you.”
There’s movement and the sound of the door opening and shutting before Harper’s mother says, “You won’t talk me out of going to the police. He tried to kill my husband. He tried to kill your step-father. Eric did this.”
“Eric didn’t do this.”
“You think he came back for you? He came back because he wants the empire. He came back to claim the empire. I know. You should know, too.”
“He doesn’t want the empire. I don’t know where this is coming from, but that isn’t important right now. Mom. Mom—your husband has died. He had a massive heart attack and he died.”
“What?”
“He died. He’s gone. I’m sorry—”
She sobs, and then screams, a blood-curdling scream. “Eric did this!” she shouts. “He caused all of this. He’s the end of us all.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Harper
My adrenaline is pumping so hard that my hands are shaking. My mother hugs herself, tears streaming down her face, and only now do I realize that she’s fully dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Her computer is open on the coffee table of the living room hotel suite, a pot of coffee next to it. She wasn’t asleep when I was calling her. What was she trying to prove?
Anger surges through me. She’s playing games. She’s not who I think she is and I don’t know what that means. And yet she sobs, “He did this,” blaming Eric. “Eric’s the reason this happened. The minute he came into this world, into this family, he changed the future. He changed everything.”
“He was here before we were here,” I remind her. “What are you even talking about, mother?”
She turns away from me and runs right into the coffee table, yelping, and starting to tumble. I catch her arm and turn her to face me. “I need to know what you’re talking about.”
“You don’t. You don’t need to know. He’s gone now. It’s too late. He’s gone!” She shouts out that last statement, shaking with the words, and on another sob, she falls to her knees. I go down on my knees in front of her, scared now with the intensity of her reaction. “Mom. Mom, are you okay? Do I need to call for help?”
She sucks in a breath and grabs my arm. “Xanax, by my computer. I need a Xanax.”
I glance at the bottle and back at her. “How many have you taken?”
“None. None today, but give me the whole damn bottle. I can’t take this pain.” She reaches for it and I grab it.
“No,” I say. “One. Just one until you see a doctor.”
“I loved him. I really loved him. Now he’s gone and I can’t fix it. I’m alone. So very alone.”
I don’t feel the sympathy for her that I should and I don’t know why. This is my mother. She’s hurting. I just—this isn’t the person I know. I read the label on the bottle and stand up, opening the bottle to count pills while she crawls to the couch and sits down. Satisfied that I’m not helping her overdose, I offer her a pill. She downs it in between sobs and sips of coffee.
“I can’t believe he’s gone. I did this. I did.”
“What does that mean, mother?” I demand, sitting on the table in front of her. “What does that mean?”
She buries her hands in her face and sobs some more.
“Mother.” I grab her hands. “I need to know what happened.”
“We thought it was Eric he was after, not your father.”
“He’s not my father,” I say, feeling a pinch of guilt for saying that right after he died. It’s just—he wasn’t my father. “And what do you mean, coming for Eric? And who is we? What is this about? Eric?”
“Yes. Eric. Isaac’s mother had an affair. He’s not the real heir. He’s not even a Kingston. Eric is the heir.”
I blanch, stunned by this news. “How can that be?”
“She fucked around, Harper. How do you think it can be? And her lover, Isaac’s father, is dead. It was a car accident, they say, but I don’t buy it. Why do you think he ended up dead right after Eric was introduced to the family? Isaac knew he wasn’t the heir. He didn’t want anyone to find out.”
I swallow hard. “Isaac knows?”
“His mother told him,” she says. “And he killed her, too.”
“Why would he kill her? Wasn’t she on his side?”
“I have no clue, but Gigi is certain that he did.”
I blanch. “Gigi knew about it?”
“Yes. She’s why all this came out. She hated Isaac’s mother. She was looking for something to control her with and found more than she bargained for. Everyone knew but his father.”
“Gigi didn’t tell him?”
“Isaac was the grandson she’d helped raise. She didn’t want him disinherited and treated like the outcast. Then Eric showed up. That’s when Isaac’s father died, by the way. Someone wanted him gone. You can guess who that was.”
“Isaac or Gigi?”
“She says it was Isaac. I don’t know. Maybe Gigi killed them both to protect Isaac.”
I can barely catch my breath. I swallow bile and force my voice to stay steady. “How do you know all of this? How can you be sure it’s even true?”
“Gigi told me. She panicked when Isaac got the mob involved with the family. She thought he was going to get us all killed, which he might just do before this is over. She told me everything then.”
“But you didn’t tell your husband?”
�
�She was sure Eric would take the company if he knew he was the heir, so she needed you to be his damsel in distress, to appeal to Mr. Navy SEAL to save the day.”
“She gave him stock.”
“She controlled what he got. That was her plan.”
“You helped her? You knew she sent me to get him?”
“No. Of course not. I told her no. I told her that Eric knows his father basically killed his mother. No good could come out of giving him a key to revenge.”
Her eyes are now remarkably dry. Because of the Xanax? Or is there more to her motives? “Why did Gigi run?”
“For her life. She told Isaac that his father was coming here to offer Eric part of Isaac’s stock to get out of this mess. The next thing we all know, the wrong man is in the hospital.”
I stand up in shock. “The wrong man? What does that mean?”
“We thought Isaac would go after Eric. Obviously, he decided he just wanted to inherit. That’s why Gigi ran. Isaac doesn’t know I know any of this, but he knows she knows. She could ruin him.”
“You believed Isaac had killed not once, but twice, and you were okay with him going after Eric?”
“Not to kill him. You think I wanted him dead? Eric can handle himself for God’s sake. He was a SEAL.”
“What if Isaac had come for me? He had me attacked at the warehouse. Eric saved me.”
“You were attacked?”
“Yes. And I can’t prove it, but I’m almost certain that Isaac set it up. He had a bank account in my name. He was setting me up to look like I was stealing from the mob. Eric wiped out the proof. Eric saved me in that warehouse or I’d be dead, the fall guy for the mob.” A bad thought hits me. “I assume since you took my trust, my life insurance would have gone to the family, too. My death would have paid off the mob.”
“No. No, Harper. I didn’t—I had no idea—and—”
“And you let Isaac come after Eric. What did you think he would do to Eric, mother? He was going to lose everything.”
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