Chapter 27
SHH
RORY
I should have known better than to be alone in the library.
It was such a beautiful room. Floor-to-ceiling shelves, a rolling ladder, and light pouring through the tall windows.
I’d started sneaking in whenever I had a few minutes to myself.
I wasn’t even reading, not really. I’d just been running my fingers along the spines of the books, feeling the worn leather, taking refuge from my own thoughts.
Which was, of course, exactly when Miranda found me.
“There you are.” She closed the door behind her.
Oh boy. Now I couldn’t run. “Oh. Hey, Miranda.” My hand dropped from the bookshelf. “I was just—”
“I know what you were doing.” She moved into the room with unhurried ease, a cat toying with its canary.
She wore dove grey today, a silk blouse tucked into another pair of wide-leg trousers, her hair swept up.
Everything about her was immaculate, cool, and untouchable.
I couldn’t imagine Miranda doing anything—like playing tennis or gardening, although she must’ve existed outside of her blouses, perfect makeup, and chignons.
Right?
Miranda didn’t sit. She stood in the center of the room, regarding me.
I stayed where I was, near the far bookshelf, which felt strategic until I realized it meant she was still between me and the door.
“We haven’t had a chance to speak privately,” she said.
“Darn it.” I kept my voice light. “It’s really a shame.”
She frowned. “Sit down, Rory.”
I obliged, because my legs weren’t entirely steady, and I didn’t want her to know that.
Miranda took the chair across from me, crossing her ankles, perfectly composed. She looked at me for a long moment without speaking. I’d been on the receiving end of some uncomfortable silences lately, but Miranda was seriously a boss at it.
I held her gaze. My heart was hammering.
“You’re a pretty girl,” she said finally. “I’ll give you that.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s not a compliment,” she said pleasantly. “It’s an observation. Pretty girls show up in rich, powerful men’s lives all the time. But they rarely last.”
“I suppose that depends on the girl.”
“Yes. It does. Take me, for instance. I became my late husband’s whole world.
I was here for him when no one else was, including Rhodes.
” She smoothed an invisible wrinkle from her trouser leg.
“Rhodes never cared about him. He’s a selfish young man, you should know that.
He’s only here now because he wants the money. And to spite me, of course.”
I lifted my chin. “I don’t agree with you.”
“Well, that’s because you’re an idiot,” Miranda said. “What do you know about anything?”
“I know that Rhodes is a good man. And I know he loved his father,” I said.
“You’re wrong on both accounts. And that’s because your only source is Rhodes, who is more self-obsessed than anybody I’ve ever met.”
Her nostrils flared, two hectic spots of color appearing in her cheeks.
“I’ve been with the family since Rhodes was a boy.
William was the one who was devoted to his father.
Rhodes was the one who only ever did what he wanted.
My husband tried for years to bridge the gap with him, but all he ever did was push him away.
He never accepted me, and he never forgave his father for marrying me. ”
Maybe because you’re a scary bitch? “I’m sorry that you feel that way,” I said instead. “But why don’t you try talking to him?”
“Who says I haven’t?”
“I haven’t seen you trying,” I said truthfully. “I’ve only noticed you trying to undermine him.”
“Well, aren’t you Little Miss Observant?” Miranda scoffed. “Like I said, what do you know about anything? You don’t know the history. You don’t know how he’s hurt me, and how he hurt my husband.”
“I think Rhodes might have a different perspective.”
“Oh, I’m sure the spoiled brat does.” Miranda glared at me. “But enough about him—do you want to know what I’venoticed about you?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“You’re trying very hard to sell your little act.” She let that settle. “Most people in love don’t try that hard. They’re careless—completely oblivious to what’s going on around them.”
She looked at me steadily. “But you aren’t like that, are you? You always know what’s going on, how your audience is reacting. Because you’re looking to see if it lands.”
My mouth went dry. I said nothing.
“Rhodes is many things,” Miranda continued, “but he is not stupid, and neither am I. You appeared here out of nowhere, days after his father and brother died and their wills were read. There was no engagement announcement, no prior mention of a relationship, no photographs, no mutual acquaintances who knew you as a couple.” She paused. “I’ve asked around.”
“We were private,” I said. My voice came out steadier than I felt. “And it happened fast.”
“Very.” She nodded slowly. “Unusually so.”
Outside the windows, the lawn was bright and still. The sun shone in the sky. I focused on it for a second, grounding myself.
“I want to be transparent with you,” Miranda said, which was alarming.
“I don’t have proof. Not yet. What I have is a very strong instinct, developed over many years of watching powerful men make desperate decisions.
” She eyed me calmly. “And the instinct tells me that you are not who you say you are.”
The room felt small.
“I’m having you investigated,” she continued, in the same neutral tone she might use to discuss the weather. “Thoroughly. Your background, your finances, your family, your history. Whatever arrangement you’ve entered into with my stepson, I intend to find it.”
“There’s no arrangement.” The words felt brittle coming out of my mouth.
She inclined her head. “If I’m wrong, you have nothing to worry about. The investigation will simply confirm what you’ve already told everyone, and we’ll proceed.” She paused. “But if I’m right—“
“You’re not right.”
“—If I’m right,” she continued, undeterred, “I want you to understand what that will mean. Not just for you. For Rhodes.”
She raised her chin and said, “He will finally lose everything. The company, custody of that boy, his father’s legacy. Everything my husband built will pass to me, because Rhodes violated the terms of the trust by fraudulently misrepresenting the nature of his marriage.”
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“And you,” she added, almost as an afterthought, “will leave with nothing. Less than nothing, I’d imagine, given whatever penalties are surely written into whatever contract you’ve signed.”
I stared at her.
She didn’t have proof—yet. But if she found it, Rhodes would lose everything I’d come here to help him protect.
Luke’s face flashed through my mind. Luke, with his goggles half full of water. Luke launching himself at Rhodes behind his desk, arms going automatically around his uncle’s neck.
“I’m telling you this,” Miranda said, “not to threaten you. Consider it a courtesy. Walk away now, before my investigator finds anything, and I won’t pursue it. I will allow Rhodes to find a legitimate solution to his situation, and I will not hold this particular episode against him.”
She met my eyes. “But if you stay, and I find what I’m looking for, I will burn it all to the ground. You get what you give in life, and Rhodes has given me plenty of pain. I won’t lose a moment of sleep over ruining him. ”
I believed her. I looked at her cool, composed face, the absolute absence of doubt in her expression, and I believed every single word.
The silence stretched out. I became aware that she was waiting for some kind of response.
A crack, a confession, a tearful capitulation.
That’s what she was expecting. A girl like me, in a house like this, faced with a woman like her.
Of course, I would fold. Of course I’d run. Trust me, I wanted to.
But something stubborn rose up in my chest.
“I appreciate the warning,” I said. My voice was still remarkably steady. “But I’m not going anywhere.”
Something flickered in her eyes. “Is that so?”
“Rhodes and I are getting married this weekend.” I stood up, which was a risk on account of my legs, but they held. “In spite of your harsh words, I hope you’ll be there. Family means everything to us.”
Miranda rose too, unhurried, and for a moment we stood facing each other. She was taller than me in her heels. She had thirty-plus years on me, plus the expertise of knowing how to be terrifying in a silk blouse.
But she didn’t have Luke asking her to stay.
She didn’t have Rhodes looking at her like she was something real.
She didn’t have Grammy’s farm saved, or Josie and Bo’s futures secured, or a signed contract and five million reasons to stand her ground.
“Enjoy the library,” Miranda said pleasantly. She straightened an already-straight vase on the shelf beside her. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
She left, the door clicking softly closed behind her, and I sank back down into the chair. I sat there for a long moment, alone in the beautiful room, heart hammering. She was going to investigate me. She might find Elena. She might find the agency.
She might find the contract.
And when she did, she was going to detonate it like a bomb and blow the whole thing up.
I thought about Rhodes. Wow, Miranda really hated him. I wondered if there was a kernel of truth beneath her claims that he had made her life miserable. Maybe. But she was the adult, and as he’d said, she’d swooped in when his father was vulnerable. She’d never treated him well.
There were two sides to every story.
Now, faced with her threats, I had to consider my story.
I believed Rhodes—that he’d been devoted to his mother and crushed when she died.
That he’d loved his father, but that he didn’t care for his stepmother, because she’d never been warm and had only appeared to be out for herself.
That he’d distanced himself from his family as a result.
I believed him.
Miranda also seemed to be telling the truth, that she felt like Rhodes never gave her a chance.
And maybe he didn’t, but he’d been a child.
It was Miranda’s job to try to form a relationship with him.
Instead, she’d shut him out and played the victim, and was now using this narrative as leverage to justify her attempt to wrest Barrington Enterprises away from Rhodes, even though he was the rightful heir.
Miranda could cry all she wanted. They were crocodile tears, as far as I was concerned. She’d been a wicked stepmother from the word go.
But she could still undo me, undo us both. The thought caused me physical pain. I remembered what it felt like to laugh with him under the covers, to feel the warmth of his humor and his strong arms. What would he do if he lost everything his father had built?
What would I do if I lost the money, the guardianship, the farm, and… Him?
I thought about Luke, cannonballing, his swim goggles upside-down and half-filled with water. That little boy had been through enough. So had Josie and Bo, for that matter. So had my Grammy.
I was not going to be the reason this all fell apart.
But… what was going to happen? Miranda’s investigation was like a wrecking ball coming for us, and we didn’t have lots of places to hide. What would happen when she found out?
What would happen to Rhodes?
The tender bud of hope, so fragile in my chest, started to wither. He would never have feelings for me if I brought about his ruin.
Heart sinking, I looked out at the grounds.
I never should have come here.
And now it was too late.