Uncovering You: The Complete Series (Mega Box Set)

by Edwards, Scarlett

  “In a good way, or a bad way?” I ask, thinking back to Tammy’s remarks.

  “In a great way!” she exclaims. “Well… you’ll see. I can’t believe you didn’t look him up earlier! You’ve got your nose stuck too far in those stories of yours, you know?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I say. I twist around—and the signal drops.

  “Shit,” I mutter. I wait for it to pick up again, then I dial her back. “Min?”

  “Hey. Phone cut off?”

  “Yeah. I’ve got to be, like, in the most uncomfortable position ever just to make a call. You’re on speaker. I’m holding the phone like three feet above my head!”

  She laughs.

  “Anyway, you were saying?”

  “I was saying, how did you not look up anything about the man who hired you?”

  “I didn’t think he’d be here,” I say. “So it wasn’t really relevant. I looked up things about the castle, the estate, that sort of stuff. That’s what I thought I’d be seeing most of.”

  “Looks like you thought wrong,” she says.

  “Maybe. We barely spoke, though. I have no idea if he’s just here to welcome me, or if he’s here all summer, or…”

  That’s a white lie. I have the distinct impression that Sylvain isn’t merely passing by.

  “Well you better hope he stays!” Min says. “Dani, he’s… dreamy.”

  “Thanks for the information,” I deadpan. “As if I didn’t know. Don’t you have a boyfriend?”

  “Yeah, but you don’t. Imagine what would happen if you hook up with him.”

  “Nothing good, I bet,” I tell her. Another tiny lie. “All right, so what is it you found?”

  “So much,” she says again. “So, so, so damn much. Where do I begin? Well, he’s loaded, for one. Comes from a super-rich family.”

  “Gee, with the castle and all, I couldn’t tell.”

  “Just listen. He’s also brilliant. Apparently he was some sort of math prodigy as a child. Let’s see… he got accepted to Oxford at fifteen. Graduated in three years, top of the class, instead of four. Wrote some kind of proof that got him all these academic awards…. Yadda, yadda, yadda, that stuff’s not important.”

  I roll my shoulders uncomfortably. I can handle rich. I can handle cocky.

  But does he have to be brilliant?

  I don’t know how long my defenses will last.

  “What else?” I say.

  “That’s just the start. I’ve got a bunch of notes. Hold on, uh…”

  I hear her flipping through a notebook. Min’s always liked paper and pen.

  “Okay, here, get this. Things get really interesting when he hits his mid-twenties. I couldn’t find anything in the interim, there’s like a bunch of lost years, but that doesn’t matter. Here. He was involved in a startup doing some sort of intense computer modelling. Working with huge swaths of data, the sort of thing NASA and all the big government agencies like. He was one of the co-founders. Anyway. They developed this intense, insane algorithmic system that did… Christ, I don’t even know what it did. It’s hard to find much about it. All I know is that he sold it, to IBM, for a huge amount of money.”

  “How huge?” I ask.

  She makes an excited sound. “Really, really huge. Like, massive.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Guess.”

  I click my tongue. “No, Min, just tell me! I hate guessing games.”

  “Come on. Just give it a try.”

  I roll my eyes. “I don’t know. A few million. Two, three?”

  “Not even close,” she says.

  “Ten.”

  “Higher…”

  “Min!”

  “Come on, this is fun.”

  “Maybe for you.” I grunt. “I don’t know. Fifty.”

  She laughs in delight. “Try ten times that amount!”

  I almost drop the phone. “Half a billion?”

  “Yup! Now, I don’t know what his cut was, but obviously, that catapulted him a few tax brackets up.”

  “I’d say,” I whisper. I look in the direction of the castle. So what’s he doing here?

  “We’re just getting started,” she says. “Check this out. When he was twenty-seven, he was found guilty of insider trading and stock manipulation. He went to jail for five years!”

  I shake my head. “What? When was this?”

  “A while back. He got out in ’08.”

  “But that means… he’s at least forty!”

  “Uh, yeah,” Min says.

  “Shit,” I say. “He didn’t look that old.”

  “Some men age real well,” she tells me, as if she’s the expert. “How old did you think he was?”

  “I don’t know. Thirty? Thirty-three?”

  She laughs. “You were way off.”

  “No kidding,” I mutter. I take a step toward the bed, looking to sit down—then remember the phone.

  The damn thing might as well be tethered to the wall for all the freedom it gives!

  “And then,” Min continues, “he went entirely off the grid.”

  “What do you mean? He got out and disappeared? What, did he just retreat here?”

  “No,” she says. “I don’t think so.” She hesitates. “But, um…”

  I can always tell when she’s holding back. “But what, Min?”

  “I don’t want to scare you…” She takes a breath. “Things are still great. But… you should probably know.”

  “Know what? Something about him?”

  “Yeah. Well—maybe. The lines aren’t so clear cut. I had to do a bit of journalistic investigating. That’s why my phone call took so long.”

  “Out with it, come on,” I say. “No more guessing games.”

  “Okay. Again, I’m not saying this is him, but—”

  “Min, just tell me!”

  “Two years ago a corporation without a name—just with the registration number—was hit by a nasty lawsuit.”

  “So…?” I say.

  “Well, the corporate number? It matches the exact amount IBM paid for Sylvain’s company.”

  “I thought you said it was five hundred million?”

  “Well, yeah, but not exact.” She makes an annoyed sound. “It was like, four hundred and seventy something. Not a single digit was a zero in the amount. It wasn’t rounded off, which I thought was strange at first. But then I figured it had something to do with that algorithm of theirs, I don’t know, some type of number with meaning attached to it. You know, like Sidney Crosby’s contract.”

  “The hockey player?” I’m not a big sports girl. I’ve only heard of him in passing.

  “Yeah. He’s number 87, because he was born in 1987, and his contract is exactly 8.7 million a year.”

  “Cute,” I say.

  “Yeah. But back to Sylvain.”

  “The corporation.”

  “Right. So the registration number was the same. And regular people can’t choose their corp numbers, they’re like, randomly assigned.” She cuts off. “I’m getting sidetracked. Point is, he—if it’s him—had someone on the inside pull a favor for him.”

  “Doesn’t sound like much of a favor,” I note.

  “No, but it ties things together. That corporation was hit by a lawsuit by the family of a girl who disappeared… right around the time Sylvain got out of prison.”

  I take a sharp breath. “You think he’s connected?”

  “Well,” Min pauses again. “She was from the same village you’re in now. Right by the Alastair estate. And if he’s there, and…” she trails off. “I don’t need to connect the dots.”

  “You’re saying he’s responsible,” I breathe.

  “Nothing was ever proven. And the lawsuit ended in an out-of-court settlement. The details aren’t in the public records. All I’m saying, Dani, is that yes, while this is exciting… you also need to be careful.”

  A prickle run down the back of my neck. “Yes,” I agree. “I will be.”

  Chapter Six
r />   Sylvain Alastair shows up a few hours later, unannounced.

  I start when I see him. I wasn’t expecting it.

  “Dinner is ready,” he says curtly. “You may eat in the dining hall, inside the castle.” He looks around the room. “I’m surprised you haven’t explored it yet.”

  “Just getting settled in,” I tell him quickly.

  He nods in agreement and turns away.

  “Wait,” I say.

  “Yes?” he pauses at the door.

  “The lady in town…” I lick my lips. “She told me not to come here. Do you know why she would say that?”

  He turns on me, then, and his intensely dark eyes pierce into me. I feel like he can see all the way down to my soul… and extract the real question I’m asking:

  Are you dangerous?

  “If I were you,” he says in a low, grave voice. “I would pay less attention to what other people say and think and more to your own personal judgment.” He tosses an old tape recorder on the bed. “Give that a listen. Before you come inside. It might grant some… perspective.”

  He leaves.

  ***

  I look at the recorder. What the hell?

  I approach it and pick it up. I have to turn it over a few times before figuring out how to work it. The tape’s at the very end. I rewind it, and hit play.

  My own voice comes through the speaker:

  “Hey, if I get cut off it’s because I moved out of range. The connection sucks everywhere. What’d you find?”

  My stomach seizes up. Next comes Min’s:

  “Oh my God, so much.”

  I hit stop.

  Sylvain heard the entire conversation. He heard, and he recorded it.

  Quickly I go through the rest of the tape. Every single word of ours is there.

  Dear God. I feel sick.

  But… how? I look around the room. Hidden microphones? No, the quality was much too high for that. The only thing that makes sense is that he…

  He tapped the actual line.

  I don’t know whether to be scared, or outraged, or…

  Both.

  My heart is racing. As well it should! I’ve come into the lair of a madman. I shouldn’t just be scared—I should be terrified!

  I glance at the door, the way Sylvain went. He’s gone now, obviously.

  Dinner? I think. I wonder what awaits me there.

  I take a deep breath. I need to think. ‘Madman’ might be a bit histrionic.

  But what else would you call someone who tapped your line?

  I look at my phone. I can’t call Min.

  He’d know.

  A cold chill takes me. A phrase he used in our first interaction stands out:

  You are the one I wanted.

  I’ve been reading some intense dark romances lately. That sounds like a phrase right out of the books.

  But this isn’t a story. This is real life!

  Maybe my imagination is getting the better of me. Min’s first impression, after all, was that the situation is, and I quote, “Great.”

  She didn’t tell me to be scared. Even though she knew about the disappearance of that other girl the whole way through.

  I push myself up. I’m not going to let irrational fear get the better of me. It’s not like I’m all alone. Min knows I’m here, as do my parents.

  No, I shouldn’t be scared. It’s not logical. Not yet. I can be a little unnerved, maybe even intimidated. But who wouldn’t be, in the presence of such a man?

  I leave the guesthouse and walk to the castle.

  ***

  The tightness in my shoulders doesn’t disappear when I’m inside. But the sense of wonder I get from being in such a place definitely increases.

  I’m in awe of the vast amount of space. The entrance hall has been retrofitted and modernized just enough for it to feel livable. Not enough to do away with any of the medieval charm.

  There’s faint piano music playing. Intrigued, I follow the sound. I’m led down a series of narrow and winding halls. Eventually I come upon a distant sitting room.

  Sylvain is there, his back toward me. His fingers dance over the keys of the grand piano. He doesn’t know I’m here. For a moment, I just watch him.

  His body sways with the melody. I don’t know the piece, but it sounds baroque.

  Very fitting.

  There’s a fireplace along one wall, unlit. An enormous armchair stands beside it. There are shelves piled with books all around the perimeter of the room.

  The music picks up in a powerful crescendo. Sylvain is really into it now. His entire body moves with the notes.

  I feel like he’s pouring his soul out onto the keys.

  Abruptly the music stops. Sylvain’s back rises and falls with heavy breaths.

  I start to turn away, wanting to sneak out without feeling like an intruder.

  Halfway through my first step, his voice makes me freeze.

  “Ms. Middleton.”

  I close my eyes and exhale. How long did he know I was there?

  I turn to face him, plastering on a fake smile against the roiling in my stomach.

  I swallow. “Yes?” I say.

  His back is still to me. The fingers of his right hand run over the keys in a wistful motion.

  “You listened to the recording?”

  My gut seizes up. “Yes.”

  “There is a reason…” he hits a single key. The sound is shrill and unnerving. “…that the property has no signal. I am a man who values his privacy. I trust you understand.”

  “Yes,” I say again, despite the last coming across nothing like a question.

  “Good. Dinner is set and waiting on the table. You will find the new contract there as well. Sign, and your employment will begin tomorrow morning. You can take the rest of the night to acquaint yourself with the property. After all…” his voice becomes an octave lower, “…that is what you are here to do.”

  Chapter Seven

  I find the dining room—dining hall—after a bit of wandering.

  There’s a massive wood table in the middle. It can easily seat a party of fifty.

  One chair is set. In front of it is a metal platter covered with a buffet lid.

  But in front of that is a stapled stack of papers. I leaf through it. It’s a replica of the first employment contract I signed and mailed. The only thing different is the dates.

  I pick up the pen and scribble my signature. Then I lift up the lid and look at my food.

  There’s a single protein bar still in its wrapper.

  It sits all alone in the middle of the plate. There’s nothing else.

  I look around. Obviously, there’s nobody else here. I think, Is this a joke?

  My stomach rumbles but I have no appetite for glorified dog food. I stand and grab the contract, intent on going straight back to Sylvain—

  I turn and find him watching me from the doorway.

  His lips quirk in a little smile. “You’re dissatisfied,” he says.

  My hands clench into two fists behind my back. Don’t piss him off, Dani.

  “When you said dinner,” I start, trying to keep my tone neutral, “I expected—“

  “Real food?” he finishes for me. He steps into the dining hall and starts a slow walk along the table.

  I grip the back of my chair.

  His footsteps make distinct clapping sounds against the cobblestone floor. They echo through the chamber to morph into something quite menacing.

  “You see,” he tells me, “I am not the greatest cook. One of your responsibilities, for the duration of your stay, will be to prepare my meals for me.” He stops and looks me straight in the eyes. “Unless you object?”

  What is he playing at? I wonder.

  “That’s not exactly what I signed up for…” I begin.

  His gaze hardens. I swallow and quickly change what I was going to say. “But I have no objection. I can do that, sure.”

  He nods once and breaks eye contact. “Good,” he says
. “I am pleased.”

  He continues the slow walk around the table toward me. His left hand runs over the back of each chair.

  I watch him, not knowing what to say, not knowing what to expect. Sylvain Alastair does not seem like a man who would be fond of small talk. There is purpose in everything he does. From the briefest glance to the smallest step, I feel like he gives each mannerism significance.

  My breath hitches when he stops beside me. He gestures down at my chair.

  “Please,” he says. “Sit.”

  Cautiously, and a little stiffly, I do.

  “I see you’ve signed our new terms.” He holds his hand out, palm up. “I’ll take those papers now.”

  With my arm only trembling a little, I hand him the contract.

  Our fingers brush. An electric spark runs up my arm.

  “Hmm,” he murmurs. “Cold. Your hands are so cold.”

  He tucks the contract under his arm. Then, without warning, he envelops my hand with both of his.

  Warmth flows into me from him. But it’s very unsettling.

  I dare not move. Not when he’s this close. Not when he is this intensely focused on me.

  “You’re frightened now,” he whispers. His eyes move down to my chest with absolutely no apology. “I can feel your heart beat.”

  With a gasp, I jerk away. A bemused smile plays on his lips. He sits down next to me.

  “We are not employer-employee yet,” he says. “So I consider this a fine opportunity to use our first names. Don’t you think… Dani?”

  Something in his voice compels me to turn and face him.

  His eyes are locked to my face. His gaze is so focused it almost feels obsessive.

  My throat suddenly goes dry. Any words I wanted to speak evaporate from my mind.

  I’m absolutely struck by the sight of the man.

  He is… to put it plainly, he is beautiful. There’s the slightest hint of a boyish disposition behind those eyes. Otherwise, they are dark and deep. His face is all hard lines and angles, but from beyond his eyes lies an alluring softness that calls to me.

  “I fell in love once,” he whispers, “With a girl who looked just like you.” He reaches up and touches my lips.