by Laura Burton
“What am I supposed to tell Anthony?” Sam asked, snapping Edward out of his daze.
“The truth, perhaps?” Edward shot back. He rubbed his forehead. “Listen, I need my place back.” Sam broke into a tirade of objections.
“We shook on it Edward. A deal is a deal.”
“Are you kidding me right now?” Edward growled into the phone, turning away from the room of officers. “Some idiot is after my head and you are still thinking about a stupid bet?” He looked up and his stomach fell as the last person he wanted to see walked into the office.
“Morning Johnson,” the man said, the silver hair he had gelled neatly to the side matched his crisp grey suit. An officer nodded to him.
“Mr. Marks,” he replied. Catherine’s head shot up and Edward inwardly groaned. There was no turning back now, the truth was about to be blown open spectacularly. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.
“Father, how did you know I was here?” he said, hanging up on Sam and stuffing his phone in his pocket. His father’s smile stiffened.
“You are all over the news,” he said, his lips barely moving. “Edward, do you realize how much of a mess you’ve caused?”
Before Edward could reply, Catherine walked over, eyeing his father warily.
“You must be Catherine Fisher,” Edward’s father said gently, his entire composure softening. Catherine smiled weakly as they shook hands.
“I think I recognize you from somewhere,” she said thoughtfully, tilting her head to the side in thought. Edward swallowed.
Here we go.
It was like watching a car crash, only in slow motion.
“My name is Charles Marks. I’m Edward’s father.”
Edward closed his eyes as he allowed the words to sink in. “Marks…” Catherine repeated thoughtfully. “Edward Marks.”
Edward swallowed and opened his eyes to see Catherine looking at him as if for the first time.
“You’re not really a mechanic, are you?”
Charles gave Edward a hard look.
“My dear boy, what have you been up to?”
Charles heaved a sigh and strode to the main desk to speak to the officers. This was not the first time he had to get Edward out of trouble with the law. Catherine cleared her throat, Edward looked back to see her eyeing him shrewdly with her arms crossed. He winced at her and offered an apologetic grin.
“Edward Marks… as in the Hotel chain?” she asked. Edward put his hand on her shoulder.
“I’m sorry I lied to you,” he began, looking at her earnestly. Catherine shrugged him off and backed away, shaking her head.
“They said I can leave now that I’ve made my statement.” She took the handle of her bag and turned for the door, but Edward stood in her path.
“Where are you going?” he asked, panicked. He thought she surely was not going anywhere on her own. Not with madman Calvin on the loose.
Catherine’s eyes grew wide as she studied him.
“I’m going to stay with my parents for a while,” she said determinedly. Edward frowned. He didn’t like the idea but could see there was no changing her mind on the matter.
“Right, I’ll call you later,” he said defeated. He stood, his arms hanging by his sides as he watched Catherine leave and wave down a taxi.
A hand weighed heavy on Edward’s shoulder, prompting him to turn and meet his father’s eyes. His left brow was raised ever so slightly, and he gave Edward a grave look.
“We need to talk.”
“What is all of this?” Charles asked with a look of disdain as he cast his eyes about the penthouse suite. Sam hastily collected the belongings he had scattered across the floor, his face almost entirely red, while Edward strode to the couch and collapsed. It was a relief to be back in familiar surroundings and he could not help but smirk at the sight of Sam, scrambling on the floor like an insect, trying to clear up the clutter.
“You two are not schoolboys anymore. Whatever games you’ve been playing, they stop now,” Charles said sternly. The doorbell rang, and Charles took the liberty of opening it before Edward could move from the couch. He looked out of the large pane window and sighed, watching the pine trees blowing in the wind, obscuring his view of the traffic.
“I came as soon as I heard.”
Edward rolled his eyes with a groan. The last thing he needed was his perfect brother turning up. He put on a fake smile and turned away from the window.
“Baby bro, nice to see you turn up to the party.”
“This isn’t funny,” Charles said. “We are all concerned about you.”
Edward rubbed the back of his neck, as he watched David cross the room, and Anthony come into view.
“Oh great,” he moaned. Anthony’s face was beetroot red and he was out of breath, as if he had forgone the elevator and charged up the staircase without taking in any air.
“I’ve just got off the phone to Catherine,” he said, his fists clenched. Edward’s ears pricked up.
“Is she alright? Is she at her parents’ house?”
Anthony scowled at him, his forearms tensing.
“I should have finished you off when I had the chance.”
Charles turned and looked icily at Anthony, who flinched under his gaze.
“And what is that supposed to mean?” he asked. The weight of his question hung in the air as Anthony struggled to find words. His mouth gaped open and his beady eyes flew around the faces in the room, then his eyes settled on Edward.
“Sam told me about the pathetic wager, you know,” he spat, giving Edward a filthy look. Edward clenched his jaw and rose to his feet as he shot a look at Sam, who averted his gaze.
“Anthony and I had a––disagreement––the other day,” he said mildly as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“Disagreement? You’ve been sleeping with my cousin!” Anthony shouted furiously.
“Now wait, I can vouch for Eddie. He’s done no such thing,” Sam piped up, with his hands raised.
Anthony’s anger simmered, then his brows knit together as he looked down in thought.
“But he’s been playing her,” he said, his voice a little less strong now. Charles closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment.
“Do I want to know about this wager?” he asked.
“Probably not,” David said in a low voice. Charles looked up at him in surprise.
“You knew about this?”
David’s face reddened and he gave a short nod. Charles started to pace the room.
“Edward, I’ve lost count of the times you’ve got yourself into trouble. But David? I never expected you to have any part in this.”
Edward strode to the bar and pulled out a bottle.
“He had nothing to do with it father,” he said with a sigh. “Sam and I had a little bet that I couldn’t find a woman to fall in love with me if I wasn’t rich.”
Charles stared at him blankly, as if the information was still processing, which gave Edward the opportunity to pour drinks.
“You think love is a game?” Charles asked, finally. Anthony nodded furiously as he swiped a glass from the counter and chugged the drink down in one.
“Tell me, what was this master plan of yours? Win the girl and then break her heart?” Charles asked. Edward glanced at David, who shifted his weight and looked away, uncomfortable.
“No,” he said lamely. He took a drink and walked to the window. “I don’t know what my plan was. When I met Catherine at the side of the road I wasn’t even thinking about the challenge.”
“You what?” Anthony said, his breaths were heavy and labored as he marched over to him. “Side of the road? I introduced you to her, after the concert.”
Edward turned to meet his gaze and shook his head.
“No.” He sighed, swirling the drink in his glass. “Her car broke down. She was soaked to the bone, waving her arm in the air in the pouring rain.” He smiled to himself as the memory flashed before his eyes. “I had no idea
who she was. After I got the car running again, I asked her out.” Anthony opened his mouth affronted but Edward raised a hand. “She said no, of course. But suggested that if we happened to meet again, it would be Fate and she’d agree to a date.”
“Fate.” Charles hummed. “How poetic.”
Edward took a sip of his drink as Sam and David had their own private conversation in the corner of the room.
“What are your intentions then?” Anthony asked hesitantly. Charles heaved another sigh and settled in one of the armchairs by the window as Edward rolled his lips inwards and bit down.
“Truth be told, I’m quite fond of her,” he admitted.
“Then what were you doing, racing across the city in Sam’s car, almost getting her killed?” Anthony shot back; his bushy brows raised high. Sam’s head popped up at the sound of his name and he walked over nodding.
“Yes,” he said, “I would like to know that as well.”
Edward leant over and rested his elbows on his thighs. His mind was spinning from the interrogation, and he wondered if Catherine was safe. Was she thinking of him? Would he ever see her again?
“As I explained on the phone,” he shot Sam a glare, “her idiot ex-boyfriend threw a brick at my head.”
Anthony jumped to his feet so fast, he dropped his glass. It shattered on the marble floor, though none of the gentlemen paid any attention.
“Who threw a brick at you?” he asked.
Edward frowned. Surely, her cousin would have known about Calvin.
“Is this also who you believe tampered with the brakes of your car?” Charles asked evenly.
“My car,” Sam corrected. Charles blinked slowly and gave Sam a death stare. Sam backed down and glanced apologetically at David, who gave a him a steady look.
Anthony looked at the men in the room one by one.
“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” he said, sounding desperate. Edward realized that Anthony was just looking out for his family. Though, sadly, he seemed to know very little.
“You seriously don’t know about Calvin?”
“Of course, I know Calvin, I’ve met him a couple of times. He’s a nice guy.”
“So, you know he was dating your cousin?” Edward asked, eyeing him carefully. Anthony shrugged.
“It wasn’t serious, they only dated for a couple of months and then Catherine broke it off before she went on tour.”
Edward pulled out the crumpled note from the pocket of his jeans and handed it to Anthony.
“Do you still think he’s a nice guy?”
Anthony unfolded the note and looked at Edward with repulsion.
“What is this?”
“That note, was attached to the brick that was thrown at my head.” Edward finished his drink and slammed the glass on the coffee table for dramatic effect.
David walked over and leaned in to read the paper. Then he exchanged a worried look with Charles.
“I don’t understand, I thought you said it wasn’t serious. Why would this guy want Edward dead?” David asked Anthony, who shrugged. Edward scrutinized Anthony’s expression. He genuinely appeared to have no idea about Calvin’s obsession with Catherine.
“Funny, here I was thinking you and Calvin were conspiring against me,” he said with a light laugh. Anthony looked affronted.
“How dare you…”
“Well, you did overreact when you found out he was dating your cousin.” Sam wagged a finger at him as he spoke. Anthony shook his head and staggered back, glass crunching beneath his shoes.
“I was having a rough night,” he said, “I had too much to drink and… Edward, I’m sorry. I would never want you dead.”
“Enough,” Charles said with a hand raised. He continued to peer outside in thought.
“The question is, what do we do now? Calvin sounds like an emotionally unstable, dangerous individual.” He turned to look at Edward. “I know you want to hunt him down, guns blazing, but we need to be systematic.”
The men gathered round Charles and formed a circle. Edward glanced at them all. Eyes intense, shoulders rounded and nodding resolutely. He grinned, sensing that something epic was about to go down.
“I’m guessing you have a plan,” he asked Charles, whose lips curled upwards at the sides.
“Listen carefully,” he said.
Chapter Nineteen
Sanctuary
Catherine sipped her hot chocolate and hummed. It was smooth and creamy, not lumpy and bitter like the ones she would make.
“Thanks dad,” she said with a contented sigh. Catherine’s father made the best hot chocolate. It was his opinion that a bad day could always be fixed with a warm drink and some good company. Luckily for Catherine, the two often went hand in hand whenever she came to visit her parents.
“It sounds like you’ve been busy with your tour. We’re happy to see you back, pumpkin,” he said kindly. Catherine nodded, staring at the burning fire. It seemed like an age had passed since she was on tour. Yet, in reality, it had only been a couple of weeks.
“Johnny, do you need me to get anything for you while we’re out?” Catherine’s mother called from down the hall.
“No, I’m fine,” Johnny said simply as he swaggered to his favorite armchair by the fire and beamed at Catherine. “I’m glad you’re here Cathy. We can play monopoly like old times.”
“Sounds fun,” Catherine said, a little too dully to sound genuine. She met her father’s piercing eyes as he studied her face with concern.
“Is there anything you want to talk about?” he asked. Catherine cast her eyes to the floor. She had not told them about the events that had taken place earlier. When she turned up, she simply announced she was planning to stay over for a few days to get a break from the city and have some family time.
It was fortunate that Catherine’s family did not look at the news. In fact, they actively avoided it. Johnny’s intense compassion for others meant that the watching would often trouble him.
“It’s all fake news anyway,” her mother would rant. “Designed to oppress and depress, not inspire and uplift.”
If Catherine told her family what had happened with Calvin; the threat, cutting the brake lines on Edward’s car, giving a statement at the police station… it would have been too upsetting for them. So, she fashioned an innocent smile and looked back at her father with a shrug.
“No,” she said in a high voice. Her father looked less than convinced, but before he could press her on it, her mother entered the room.
“Ready?” he said to her. She wrapped a shawl around her shoulders, pulled out her thick, bouncy curls from underneath and beamed at the room, her topaz eyes glistening.
“Look at this, both of my babies home. I wish we didn’t have to leave you.”
Catherine’s father stood up and held out his arm for her. She slinked her hand through and linked with him.
“It’s not every day we can celebrate our wedding anniversary,” he said, planting a loving kiss on her lips. Catherine’s mother grinned at him, her face flushing with color. Catherine stared at the happy couple with awe. Even after twenty-eight years of marriage, they still behaved like they were dating.
“We’ll be fine, Johnny is about to destroy me at a game of monopoly,” Catherine waved a hand as she watched Johnny set up the board game.
“Yes, I am,” he said as he fist pumped the air.
Catherine and Johnny shared goodbyes with their parents and waved as they left the house. The air grew still and quiet, and Johnny’s glassy blue eyes stared at Catherine expectantly.
“You’re not smiling anymore. What’s wrong?” His question was simple, but the words smarted her eyes, and her heart rate quickened. She attempted to muster another smile, but her muscles betrayed her. She frowned instead, as tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes.
“It’s about Edward.”
In truth, she was more upset about Calvin and his antics, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell Johnny. She was
yet to process the new information that had landed on her at the police station. Edward, her mysterious rescuer, with the dimpled smile – was in fact, Edward Marks; the billionaire heir to the Marks hotel chain.
The Marks’ name was well-known, not just in New York, but all over the world. The family was almost like royalty; owning most of the property on Martha’s Vineyard and often the biggest contributors to charity events. She gasped at the memory of the climate change event. She had questioned how he could possibly afford a ticket. He probably funded the entire evening.
How could she have ended up dating a billionaire? An undercover billionaire no less. And the question of why he had decided to hide his true identity nagged at her. Had she been part of some reality prank show on TV? Her eyes flew around her parents’ living room as if she expected to catch sight of hidden cameras. Johnny coughed, bringing her back to his question. Catherine took a deep breath and told him everything – barring Calvin.
Johnny nodded along as she told him about the day she met Edward. He laughed when she recounted his line, ‘I’ve always got gas,’ and clapped, as if she was delivering a monologue onstage. He shook his head with a moan when she told him that Anthony beat him up.
“That was very bad. I will talk to Ant. He shouldn’t have done that,” he said, wagging his finger. He jumped to his feet and did a little dance with his head bowed low and arms bent when Catherine finished.
“Why are you dancing? This is bad news, not good news,” she said, affronted by his response. Johnny sat and looked up at her with shock.
“Why?” he asked plainly.
“Because he lied to me.” Catherine rubbed her arms and took her turn at the game while Johnny hummed to himself.
“It’s not a big lie though is it? You said he told you he didn’t want to lie, but couldn’t tell you about his work? He could have been a hit man!”
“That’s what I said!” Catherine laughed.
“He’s a good guy. I can feel it.” Johnny tilted his head softly to the side and gazed at her with a smile. Catherine was jealous of the way Johnny looked at the world. Everything fit into one of two camps. Good and bad. There was no ‘it’s complicated.’ He had made up his mind that Edward was good, and because Edward wanted to tell her the truth, but couldn’t, he had done nothing wrong.