Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sloane stared into the mirror of the hotel lobby’s bathroom and wondered who the stranger was staring back at her.
After arriving in Chicago, she’d taken another day to complete the minor details of her plan and now wore trim black slacks with a short, cropped suit jacket over a bright red silk blouse.
She’d found the suit in a secondhand store yesterday, and the moment she saw it, she’d pictured herself wearing it as she confronted her father.
To appear before her father in her favorite leggings and T-shirt meant being immediately dismissed. If she wanted to stand her ground, she had to armor up.
She swallowed hard and ignored the slight tremor in her hand as she touched up the eyeliner, making her eyes look dangerously catlike.
She had naturally long lashes, but the double coat of mascara had lengthened and darkened them, giving them an intensity matched by the determined glint in her green eyes. Her mother’s eyes.
Her mother had always said a woman’s strength was inside her, but the world would only see the outside.
To be taken as an equal—as a rival—she had to play the part.
Especially for her father and brothers. Maybe even more so because they’d seen her growing up, those awkward, ugly stages of an uncertain girl trying to find her place in the world.
She had that to overcome in addition to everything else if she wanted to be convincing.
Right now, her secondhand suit and heels portrayed the image her father expected, even though it made her skin crawl now to know this had been the norm for her during her college years and internships at Harrington Financial.
She much preferred working in jeans and shorts and flip-flops. And definitely preferred the slower pace and low-key vibe of Carolina Cove.
But for today? She’d play her part. Because she couldn’t look as though she didn’t belong in the upscale hotel where her father’s reputation was undoubtedly well-known—and he wouldn’t want a scene.
Look like a bum and no one would blame him for dismissing her or having her “removed” and taken God knew where.
Look like a business professional and woman of power, and people would take note and possibly come to her aid if she needed them to.
The detail might be a tiny drop in the ocean in the scheme of things, but it was an important one she’d had to consider when making her plan.
She had to have the upper hand. Not allow her father to choose the time or place of their meeting. A place where he or one of the goons associated with his “clients” could spirit her away.
So she had carefully thought out the details.
Chosen a public place close to his office where he was well-known.
She also had a cab waiting as a getaway vehicle.
And if something still went wrong, the backup fail-safes were in place with Dawson as well as set up on her computer.
If she didn’t disable the messages by a certain time, they would be sent to the authorities, news outlets. Everyone.
She methodically tucked her things away in the large black bag she carried and left the restroom for the spot she had reserved in a quiet yet very public seating area between the bar and the beautifully appointed check-in counter.
A waiter from the bar spotted her and came to take her order. Sloane ordered a bourbon on the rocks.
Once she was seated, she pulled the burner phone out of her bag and texted her address to her father.
Then she waited. Though she didn’t have to wait long.
She’d chosen the hotel across the street and a few doors down from her father’s building deliberately, again banking on the fact her father wouldn’t risk a scene—or a kidnapping attempt.
Five minutes later—four if she was really counting—Noah appeared and held the door for their father as he stalked outside and down the street in her direction.
He glared at the hotel where she sat, and even though she knew he couldn’t see her behind the tinted glass, she felt the full intensity of his fury.
Horns blared as he crossed the street without a care as to who had to slam on their brakes in an effort to stop, Noah and Jarrett behind him.
The hotel doormen scrambled when they saw her father approach, and several doors were opened even though he only needed one. Her father didn’t acknowledge the doormen’s assistance, but then a man of his self-import rarely did.
His gaze locked on her in an instant, and though everything inside of her fought the urge to stand and run, she remained seated and merely lifted her chin.
Her father noted the slight, and his nostrils flared as he stalked toward her, her brothers hot on his heels.
The waiter approached carrying her drink and left it on the table beside Sloane. He asked the others if they’d like to place an order but was quickly shooed away by Noah.
“Explain yourself,” her father ordered through gritted teeth.
“Hello to you too, Daddy. It’s good to see you as well.”
“Sloane,” Noah said, his voice low with warning to not poke the bear.
That was the thing about Noah. He’d do their father’s bidding, but somewhere deep inside, he had a heart. It was another reason her threat was so difficult. She didn’t want to hurt Noah. Didn’t want to hurt any of them, actually.
She hadn’t had a bad life. In fact, her childhood had been sort of like a fairy tale. Including the part where her mother died, since that seemed to be a commonality.
But she hadn’t been hurt or abused, and so what if she had some trauma from the fact her father was mob connected? She still loved them and cared what happened to them. How twisted was that when she now knew the fate her father planned for her? “Please sit down. We need to talk.”
Sloane waved a hand toward the couch opposite her.
She’d had the chairs replaced with a couch for them to squeeze onto if they so chose.
Her chair gave her the position of authority, something her father quickly noted since he vibrated with his anger and distaste for being put in such a conundrum by his only daughter.
Her father moved to take the center seat, glaring at his sons when they shifted to seat themselves beside him.
Sloane barely held back a smirk when her brothers quickly repositioned themselves on either end of the couch atop the arms like identical props. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I finally came to see you.”
“Because I ordered you home,” her father said in no uncertain terms.
“Actually, no. I’m here because this meeting is something I needed to conduct in person. Not because I’m allowing you to offer me up like some medieval sacrifice to offset the mess you’ve gotten yourself into.”
Her father’s mouth tightened into a flat, hard line. He shot a glare at Noah, and Sloane realized Noah had told her something he shouldn’t have. Apparently that news was something her father had intended to spring on her once he had her locked down.
“You will do as I tell you, Sloane.”
“No, I will not,” she said with far more confidence than was sane, considering the circumstances.
“I’ve been more than tolerant of your behavior these last few years. Too tolerant, obviously. But enough is enough. It’s time for you to stop this nonsense and take your role in the family.” Her father lowered his chin and glared at her. “You will do your duty.”
“And if I don’t?”
“You have nothing without me. No inheritance. No degree. You think you can build a new life? I can take it away from you just as easily. You’re a Harrington, and I will make sure you uphold our name,” he said, implying the threat but giving no details as to how he’d go about it.
“I see. You’re right. I don’t have a degree. And obviously I’m out of the will,” she quipped, widening her eyes for emphasis. “But I won’t be your puppet, Daddy.”
“So you don’t care what happens to that boyfriend of yours? His family? You think they’ll be so welcoming to you when they have nothing left?”
A cold shiver ran down her spine, but she reminded herself that she’d expected this. Her father could ruin Gage and his family with a few well-placed phone calls. That was how powerful he was.
But… “I do care. Which is why I’m here. You’ve left me no choice,” she countered. “So, here’s my counter proposal. In the next few minutes, we are going to come to an understanding— You are going to leave me be and allow me to live my life free of you and all that you do.”
Her father’s deep laugh rumbled out and echoed off the marble and glass around them. He leaned back and continued to smile at her.
She felt her face warm at his mocking, but she held his gaze, determination raging within her.
“Sloane, sweetheart. We both know who is in charge here.”
“Oh, I agree.” She dipped into her bag and pulled out the small USB drive, placing it gently on the table and scooting it slowly toward her father. “A gift—for you.”
She held his gaze and noted the way the amusement died in his eyes, turning them hard and cold once more.
“What is that?”
She forced a smile at his fake tolerance but congratulated herself silently on the wariness she read in his features. Still, she had to dig deep for the bravado she wanted but didn’t have. “You raised me, Daddy. I am my father’s daughter, and you taught me well.”
“Stop talking in circles and explain yourself.”
“Sloane…” Noah’s soft murmur held a note of caution and fear.
She didn’t look at her brother but kept her gaze fixed entirely on Grant Harrington.
“Did you really think I would leave without proof? That is my freedom from you and everyone you associate with. That,” she said, emphasizing the word by flicking the drive the rest of the way across the coffee table, “is one of many fail-safes I have in place that will not only reveal your business dealings and associates to the authorities, but it will also notify your clients—notably certain clients—of your sticky activities within their accounts and the many, many millions of dollars you’ve stolen from them. ”