Chapter Forty
I needed space to think things through.
Just before lunchtime, with a dulled appetite, I had left the house to get some fresh air. Walking had always helped me sort the chaos in my mind. This stroll was helping a little.
With thoughts of Greyson, a smile formed on my lips, and I was consumed by an overwhelming wave of emotion, warmth flooding through me. My face flushed as memories of our intimacy resurfaced, bringing with them the electric charge of our undeniable chemistry. Every shared moment between us was etched into myconsciousness, leaving me breathless. I yearned for more time with him. The connection we shared was unlike anything I had ever known, and it was fast becomingobsessive.
Greyson opening up to me about being Celeste Starling’s son lingered in my mind like a treasured memory. His revelation was profound—one that would forever shift my perception of Hollywood and its hidden truths.
Celeste had been mesmerizing both on and off the screen. I had always thought of her story as being a tragedy. A woman able to turn on the glamour and light up a room, but behind the scenes she was riddled with insecurities and allegedly abused by those seeking to monetize her talent.
I imagined Greyson had felt helpless to protect her when he was a boy, and as he grew older, the lore around her probably haunted him.
More than this, it was his story, too. His life, and it felt too precious to disrupt. No , there’d be no running with this revelation for my own benefit. No releasing this out into the world. Celeste deserved to rest in peace. Greyson deserved the anonymity he craved.
Strolling along the streets of Beverly Hills offered a different kind of experience, a stark contrast to the frenetic pulse of New York.
Here, the houses stood as silent giants, the sidewalks empty of people, only flashy cars zooming by. It was as if the city had been crafted for solitude, its opulence swallowed by the vast stretches of cement. It was both rough and beautiful.
I turned and headed back to Cameron’s place.
I missed Greyson, which was strange, because I was usually so happy with my own company. My helping to solve Amelia’s murder had created a bond between us like no other. I was glad I’d been able to help put an end to that nightmare of a situation.
I jolted to a stop.
There was a long, black limousine parked outside Cameron’s gate, the polished exterior reflecting the blinding daylight.
Something felt wrong.
As I approached the entryway, it was impossible to see who was inside the limo. The windows were like obsidian, impenetrable, hiding whatever secrets lurked within.
A chauffeur emerged wearing a formal cap, his black suit and tie flawless.
I hurried to the gate.
The driver approached me, his cold gaze locking onto mine. “Ms. Cole?”
Not answering was the safest response.
“This is for you,” he said, his voice low. The words sounded more like a command than a suggestion.
He ambled back to the limo and swung open the rear passenger door, revealing the dim interior. Black leather seats lined the shadows, the space inviting yet suffocating in its mystery.
Then, from across the street, a young woman appeared in a business suit and began walking quickly towards me.
I turned to face the driver. “Who do you work for?”
“I work for you,” he said.
I punched in the code and the gate began to open, but the woman would reach me before I could bolt through.
The chauffeur remained calm. “You’re not expecting me, Ms. Cole?”
I saw movement from up the driveway—it was Cameron storming toward us. He had something in his hands. He might just reach me in time.
Cameron threw a casual wave to the woman, and she turned and walked off.
Approaching the gate, I slid through the opening, terrified the driver might lunge for me and drag me to the limo before my brother could reach me.
Cameron met me on the other side of the gate. “I was looking for you.”
“He wants me to get in the car!”
Cameron looked surprisingly calm as he gave the driver a polite nod.
He handed over my handbag. “I called but you didn’t answer. You left your phone behind. I put it in here.” He pointed to my Birkin.
The driver was keeping his distance, at least.
Cameron brightened. “Aunt Rose invited us to lunch. I can’t go. Prior appointment.”
My shoulders relaxed a little and I tried to downplay my reaction. My heart was still racing, even though the danger had subsided. “This is last minute.”
“She wants to pamper you. Let her.”
I felt a rush of embarrassment that I misread the moment. I had perhaps proven I had entered the be-suspicious-of-everyone zone. A journalist was often faced with misleading situations—and then there was your own mind that could create extra paranoia.
I rallied by acting nonchalant.
It would be lovely to see my favorite aunt. I should have brought my phone with me on the walk, but I’d wanted to decompress. I’d spent the morning deep-diving Jewel’s background. The evidence proved her ferocity in business.
“You okay?” asked Cameron.
Nothing got past him, that was for sure.
“I’m fine.”
Cameron smiled with an expression that revealed he sensed my mood. Perhaps he had called in the cavalry in the way of Aunt Rose.
Relieved I wasn’t about to be kidnapped, I clutched my Birkin to my chest and headed back through the gate.
Then I climbed into the back of the limo.
Only minutes before, I had seen this going differently.
“Give her my love,” Cameron called out.
“I will!” I waved and was grateful when the door was shut so I could slump in my seat, feeling a bit weak from the adrenaline rush I’d just experienced.
Not driving meant I could admire the scenery, at least.
Spending time with my aunt was always a joy. She was my greatest inspiration. She had also inherited Cole Tea as a young woman and was a pioneer of her time. Alongside my father, she had tirelessly built Cole Tea before ultimately passing the reins to my father. And from him, the legacy was handed down to my brothers.
She was the legend, the driving force behind the Cole brand, the unyielding power that breathed life into it, shaping it into a towering empire.
Adding coffee had been Dad’s idea, much to her chagrin. However, she eventually came around after recognizing the benefits—profits soared.
Rose was also one of the kindest women I had ever met. Generous to a fault, she was a veritable icon.
But I had believed she was currently in the middle of a cruise.
The drive to meet her was relatively short.
Aunt Rose had literally chosen The Beverly Majestic, the hotel that Greyson had designed. I couldn’t wait to share this with her. It was fun to be back here.
The foyer unfolded like an opulent dream, where every detail whispered of luxury. Only now did I notice Greyson’s incredible talent, his gift of inviting in the light. It poured in, casting a warm glow across the foyer and flooding the space with a brilliance that made the polished floors gleam.
The concierge walked toward me. “Ms. Cole, this way, please.”
The fact he had been expecting me proved the kind of respect Aunty elicited. She probably had all the staff hopping around her with her usual grace.
As I entered the fine dining restaurant, I noticed other guests were dressed in designer outfits, their whispers lost beneath the classical strains of a stringed quartet. The mirrors lining the walls reflected the grandeur of the place.
Aunt Rose was sitting alone in a corner booth, a vision of sophisticated loveliness. Her glowing smile always made me feel at home. She pushed up from the table to greet me, catching a few admiring glances.
Her confidence always inspired me.
She had her silver hair swept back with a precision that never seemed severe. Her dress was a sheath of midnight blue silk. The fabric caught the light, revealing subtle hints of amethyst that emphasized her poise. The pearls at her wrist spoke of timeless elegance.
“Willa,” she said with affection. “You look wonderful.”
I leaned forward and gently kissed her cheek, and she pulled me into a hug. Her delicate perfume carried a hint of orange blossoms and jasmine, mingled with something else that felt soothing—the welcome of home.
“You look wonderful, too,” I said, joining her at the table. “This hotel is new. Did you know?”
“Yes, the food comes highly recommended.”
Her radiance remained untouched by time. As I sat opposite her, the staff moved around us as if they were in the presence of royalty. Rose had a regal aura.
The waiter came to take our drinks order. Rose chose white wine to go with the seafood we were both in the mood for.
“I was at the opening of this hotel,” I told her. “Met the architect.”
She looked disinterested, which I found surprising. Then again, Rose was often invited to impressive events around the world.
She gave me a sympathetic glance. “I hear you and Hugo…”
“Yes, we’re no longer together.”
“Your brother told me a few things. I understand this might be painful.”
“It’s getting easier.”
She studied me for a long moment and then put on her reading glasses and studied the menu—her way of dismissing Hugo.
My shoulders slumped as I reluctantly went back to that place of sadness and embarrassment. “He wasn’t who I believed him to be.”
“Oh, dear.”
“He did something…”
A waiter appeared and took our order, and I had to pause at the interruption. We both waited patiently as he poured two glasses of wine. I wasn’t sure I wanted to day drink, but this seemed to make her happy.
“Whose decision?” she asked.
“Mine,” I admitted. “I was devastated, at first, but I’m getting over him.”
“Do we need to send in Shay to assassinate him?”
Laughing, I almost spat out my wine.
“Cameron tells me Hugo is out of your place now.” She flipped her napkin onto her lap.
“I asked him to leave.”
She nodded. “We’re not a charity. Well, Cameron kind of is, but we don’t all need to be providing generosity to those who hurt us.”
“I agree.”
“Apparently, we have his diagnosis.”
“Diagnosis?”
“Yes, Cameron says that Hugo is a narcissist.” She looked serious. “The thing about that kind of person is that they mirror you, reflecting your own essence back at you. It’s why they feel familiar. They aren’t truly themselves, but a distorted version of who you are, a silent echo of your own self.”
I tried to fathom it. “He was charismatic and fun…”
She tilted her head with understanding. Rose and Cameron really had gotten into my private life.
“They can only keep that mask on for so long,” she continued. “Some people are masters at it. But when it slips, it confuses you, because you suddenly see two people in there.”
“Did you ever date a narcissist?” I asked.
“Darling, if you’re in the dating pool for any length of time, you’ll always come across one. That’s why you need your friends. They see the red flags before you.”
“Why do some women stay?”
“Money issues, fear of being alone, for the children’s sake, or because their self-esteem was destroyed over time. At first, the relationship feels wonderful. You love the same things, you have so much in common, you are best friends. Then, like a frog in a pot, the temperature is slowly raised, and before you know it, the water is boiling but you’re acclimated by that time, used to the verbal or physical abuse. Leaving feels wrong because you’ve taken on a maternal role. You want to protect them above yourself, which means leaving would hurt them. And you couldn’t bear to see them hurt because your job is to keep them happy.”
“That’s insightful,” I said, wondering why Cameron hadn’t mentioned any of this.
He would have, I guessed, when I was ready to hear it.
Rose brightened. “Hugo cheating on you was a gift. Thank him. Say, ‘What a lovely way to see yourself out.’ Not after years of marriage, but right at the beginning before all that damage is done.” She met my gaze. “Women are like glass—fragile yet resilient. They may crack, but they still have the strength to hold what matters.”
“What matters?” I whispered.
“Love.” She gave me a knowing look. “We are the guardians of love.”
That made me smile. Her compassion was never ending when it came to family.
“Willa, you deserve a man who appreciates all of you—your strength, your intelligence, and your drive to give something back to this world.”
“Like you.”
“You’re going to surpass all I’ve done. I might have set the stage, but the rest is yours now.”
“What you achieved is remarkable. Especially during those times.”
She brightened. “It was all our collective efforts. Solidarity amongst women.”
“Did you ever burn your bra?” It made me giggle to say it.
“Not just my bra.” She winked and it looked adorable on her. “Speaking of no bras, how’s Mia?”
I burst out laughing, because she was referring to that time Cameron’s wife had turned up in his foyer naked, except for a submissive’s collar. They hadn’t been married then. Aunty and I had found Mia standing before the stairs waiting for him. I had whisked Mia away before the rest of the family had seen her.
An endearing memory. I often got pleasure from teasing Mia about it, but she always saw the funny side.
“Mia’s out of town but she’ll be back this weekend.”
“Cameron seems a little lost without her.”
“He misses her,” I said. “It’s kind of cute, seeing the most independent man on the planet feeling out of sorts because his wife is away.”
“I adore Mia.” Her face lit up. “She’s good for him.”
“I’m taking a break from dating,” I said—even as my mind shimmied over to thoughts of Greyson.
Rose’s expression turned serious. “You won’t do well with a man who wants to be in charge. Too much alpha energy. You need one with intellect. A man with less ego and more compassion. An equal.”
“It’s finding him that’s the challenge,” I said.
I wondered what Greyson might be doing now.
“No more contact with Hugo,” said Rose. “The distance helps with healing.”
“Actually, he came to see me. Flew all the way here to ask me to come back.”
“That was brazen.”
“He used up all his airmiles.”
“I would have offered to fly him out on the jet—after giving him a piece of my mind.”
“Cameron dealt with him.”
Aunt Rose looked amused. “My nephew can dismantle a person with three words or less.”
“There were few words. Cameron wielded silence like one of his fencing swords.”
“Kind of feel sorry for Hugo,” she said. “Cameron’s our secret weapon. Even the military needed him for our Henry.”
“Yes, he’s annoyingly perfect.”
“Not perfect, but close.” Her eyes twinkled. “What else is he up to?”
“Cameron’s dealing with a new business venture. It’s gotten a little tricky, but I’ll let him share the details.” If he wants to.
His attempts to own a kink club in Manhattan Beach wasn’t the kind of thing he would want Rose to know.
“Is he working on any other ventures?” She leaned toward me. “Anything I can help with?”
I swallowed hard. At least I was willing to protect Cameron’s privacy, even if he had spilled everything about my current chaos.
“Not sure about that, but you can ask him.” I shrugged and changed the subject. “Maybe Hugo will think twice before cheating on someone else.”
She gave a nod of gratitude to the waiter as he set her entrée before her.
“Thank you,” I said, giving him a bright smile. “Looks delicious.”
He checked to make we were both happy and then scurried off.
Rose watched him go and then turned her focus back on me. “We just want you to be happy.”
“I’m enjoying L.A.”
“I feel sorry for any man who gets close to you.”
“Why?”
“You have two brothers who can’t help but annihilate them. Slowly, and without mercy.”
I waved that off. “How was the cruise?”
“Fabulous. The northern lights were everything I remembered.”
“You went to Iceland for your honeymoon, right?” At twenty-one, if I recalled correctly.
“Yes, and at first I didn’t want to go, but ended up loving it.”
It was her way of keeping her husband alive. She sailed out there and reminisced about him, about their precious life together. We all missed the kind-hearted man, missed his humor and the way he aways made time for everyone.
Sadness flooded her eyes and then it was gone. “I still have all of you.”
I reached out and squeezed her hand. Our uncle had been gone for ten years, and she’d never remarried, preferring to live her life by embracing each day with vibrancy. She had a zest for adventure, whether it was traveling to new places or gathering everyone for dinner in a new location she’d discovered and wanted to share. Or lunching in fancy places like this.
“You like the hotel?” Talking about it made me happy.
“Yes, Cameron says I can stay here. I do love my little luxuries.”
She meant the staff pampering her, and Cameron was the opposite, preferring privacy.
“I have a new job,” I told her.
She narrowed her gaze on me. “Right.”
I sensed Cameron had shared the drama surrounding that, too. I continued regardless. “I’m at Pulse360. Only a lowly journalist, but so far, it’s fun. Lots of room for growth.”
Lots of room to bring down the head of the company, too , I mused.
She studied me for the longest time. “Your brothers are concerned about you being there.”
“I’m doing important work.”
“I don’t doubt it. But do take what they have to say to heart.”
“I will.”
She reached over and covered my hand with hers. “It’s not easy being the younger sibling of two remarkable men. I know that. Cameron and Henry are both unique but also similar. Both ambitious and smart and brilliant at what they do. The bar is set high.”
She read my expression.
“But you are no different, Willa. You are smart, and brilliant in a way that can scare people.”
“I’m like you,” I whispered.
“You are destined for greatness but know that along the way enemies will pop up and try to stop you. Especially in your line of work.”
“I always wanted to be a journalist.”
“You wanted to be a news anchor,” she said warmly. “And you will be. Not a matter of if, but when.”
Her believing in me was everything.
“But keep in mind that company is run by a wicked person.”
“What do you know about her?”
She let out a sigh. “You already know everything that is important. If you insist on digging around anything dangerous, you must accept Cameron’s offer of security.”
“They can stand out,” I said. “Bring me unwanted attention.”
“It’s non-negotiable, Willa.”
“How am I meant to be taken seriously if I have a person trailing me when I’m doing a covert investigation?”
“You’ll figure it out.”
I went to take another bite of food and paused, fork halfway to my mouth.
No, way.
Greyson Grantchester stood inside the restaurant doorway, looking all kinds of gorgeous. His broad shoulders and tousled hair exuded an effortless allure, a rare tranquility. He wore a dark gray bespoke suit, with one hand casually tucked into his pocket, as if unaware of his magnetic presence.
My belly twisted with uncertainty.
His gaze swept the crowd. He was clearing looking for someone, joining someone for lunch.
But who?