Chapter 15 Ransom
RANSOM
Beside me, Willow lets out a short, barely audible breath.
My shoulders relax a little at the confirmation that our plan worked.
Judge Bailey came through on his promise and recalled the warrants Olivia set up for the three of us—and our blackmail material was definitely better than hers, or he probably would’ve tried to go to her to see if he could get her to sweeten whatever deal she offered him to sign off on the warrants in the first place.
“Was there anything else, ma’am?” one of the cops asks.
Now that it’s clear they were called out here for nothing, they only seem to be giving Olivia basic respect, based on who she is. She’s still gaping, her mouth hanging open just a little wider than is probably fitting for polite society, and I fucking love to see it.
A kind of savage satisfaction fills me as I watch her expression change.
She no longer has the upper hand over us, and she’s finally realizing it.
All that smug satisfaction she was exuding just a second ago is bleeding away, as if she’s finally realizing that Willow is a true force to be reckoned with.
Too bad for her she’s so slow on the uptake. My brothers and I have known that truth for a long fucking time, and we’re prepared to have Willow’s back for whatever comes next.
“Ma’am?” another cop prompts Olivia. “Was there any other reason we were called out? Do you have any charges to make against these men?”
He glances at us, and even though we’ve just been cleared, I can feel Malice stiffen beside me. It’s old habit for all of us, a natural distrust of cops and an instinct to be ready to fight at a moment’s notice if need be.
But right now, it’s not needed.
Olivia snaps her jaw shut, then shakes her head. “No. I suppose not. I’m very sorry to have wasted your time.”
“Not a problem.”
The cops leave, and most of the party goers seem to lose interest as they realize they won’t be getting a big show of anyone being dragged away in handcuffs.
But I can still feel glances being cast our way, Olivia’s peers probably trying to evaluate what’s going on with her, and why the four of us are talking to her.
Ignoring the stares from those nearby, Olivia takes a step closer to Willow, fury overtaking her face.
“What did you do?” she hisses.
Willow just smiles at her, as calm as can be. You’d never know that she was worried at all before we got here, and my chest swells with pride for how she’s playing this so well. I swear I’m falling in love with her even more, watching her handle this.
“We just took a page out of your playbook,” Willow tells her grandmother, speaking in a low voice. “It turns out blackmail can be shockingly effective as a tool for getting things done. Or undone.”
Understanding flares in Olivia’s eyes, and she splutters with anger. “You—how dare you—”
Before she can finish that sentence, two new people emerge from the crowd, stepping forward to join us. I recognize them from both the wedding we interrupted and photos that came up during our search for Troy’s hiding place.
They’re his parents.
They look as snobbish and inbred as everyone else here, dressed to the nines for this party. They come to stand beside Olivia, their gazes sliding over Malice, Vic, and me like we’re trash not fit to grace their presence.
I roll my eyes. Fuck these assholes. We have the upper hand here.
“What is going on, Olivia?” Troy’s mother bites out.
Stella Copeland might be beautiful, with her dyed blonde hair and elegant outfit, but she has this look on her face like someone near her stepped in dog shit and is tracking it all over her fancy party.
“The police, here? I asked them why they came, and they said they were called out by you.”
Troy’s father, Alexander, looks at Willow, and the contempt on his face is so easy to see. It makes me bristle, wanting to put myself between him and her, to protect her from his shitty judgment.
But I know I don’t have to. My girl can hold her own with these people. She’s strong enough for that and then some.
“We knew you made a deal with Troy for her hand in marriage,” Alexander says, sniffing as he turns his attention back to Olivia. “But you assured us that she wouldn’t be a problem. That they wouldn’t be a problem.”
He jerks his head at the three of us.
“Yes,” Stella agrees, her lips set tight.
I’m sure there would be a frown line between her eyebrows if she hadn’t been Botoxed to within an inch of her life.
“And this very much looks like a problem. You know how important this party is to us. We invited potential business partners to this event. It was supposed to go off without a hitch.”
They’re both looking to Olivia for answers, and it’s really fucking satisfying to see that she doesn’t have any for them.
“I know.” Olivia’s voice is curt, and her back is still ramrod straight, but there’s something in her eyes that looks unsettled.
Good. How does it feel to not have the upper hand for once, bitch? I think viciously.
Since Olivia’s words didn’t actually explain any of what’s going on, and she doesn’t seem to have anything else to say, the Copelands wheel on Willow.
Stella takes a step closer, getting into Willow’s face.
“I warned Troy against this,” she spits, her upper lip curling.
“I told him that you would be a problem. That you were going to be a black mark on this family and our good name. But he promised me he could keep you in line. We even let him step away from his duties at the company to take the time to make sure you were ready to be presented to polite society. Clearly, he overestimated himself.”
She started off speaking quietly, but by the end, her voice has risen a bit, and Alexander puts a hand on his wife’s shoulder and pulls her away from Willow.
“Not here, Stella,” he says, his voice sharp and low. “This isn’t the time or the place. Troy will have to deal with her, that’s all. We will remind him that he has a duty to this family, and that it includes keeping his little… projects at home until they can be controlled properly.”
It’s a fucking disgusting way to talk to and about a human being, and the fact that they’re discussing Willow like she’s some kind of stray Troy took in and hasn’t housebroken yet gets my hackles up.
I can’t hold back any longer, so I step forward, catching the Copelands’ attention.
“That’s gonna be pretty hard for him to do,” I tell them with a savage grin. “Seeing as he’s not alive anymore.”
There’s a split second of silence while they absorb that, and then Stella gasps. “What?”
Malice steps up beside me, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares them down.
“You didn’t wonder why he wasn’t here yet?
” he asks, his voice hard. “It’s because he’s indisposed.
Permanently. Which you might have found out about already if you hadn’t supported him going off the fucking grid with Willow.
I know you rich fuckers are fucked in the head, but you let him hold Willow captive while he tried to break her.
You all knew about it. Don’t even try to tell me you didn’t. And you accepted it.”
“How dare you—”
“Shut. The fuck. Up,” Malice snaps, cutting Troy’s father off.
He’s taller than Alexander by a good few inches, and even with the man trying to draw himself up to look intimidating, he’s got nothing compared to the raw violence Malice exudes.
“You knew he’d be unreachable, and you knew why.
You gave him the space to use and abuse Willow, and that’s why you neglected to find out that his cabin burned down. With him inside.”
There’s a small intake of breath from Olivia, and I swing my gaze over to her, watching her digest that new piece of information.
I can tell she recognizes the symmetry of it, and she should, considering she burned down a house herself once.
She killed Willow’s mom in a fire, forever altering the course of Willow’s life.
And now we’ve done the same to her, in a way, snatching away her deal and killing the monster Willow was forced to marry.
“Alexander,” Stella says, her voice a harsh whisper. She puts her hand on her husband’s arm, clutching it through his suit jacket. “It can’t be true, can it? Troy can’t be—”
Her other hand comes up to her mouth, trembling just a bit.
Alexander takes a bit longer to snap out of his shock. He blinks at us for a long moment and then looks to his wife. “I… I don’t know.”
“It’s true,” I tell them with a shrug. “We’re not gonna waste time trying to convince you.
You’ll find out for yourself soon enough once you go check out his little hideout in the woods.
You should’ve kept that little monster on a shorter leash.
Maybe told him ‘no’ a time or two, so he’d know the meaning of the word. ”
“He was our only son,” Alexander snaps back, his face purpling. “And now he’s—”
Vic cuts him off with a scoff. “I highly doubt you care all that much about him. It’s the legacy you’re mourning, isn’t it? The fact that he was your only heir. You didn’t care about him as a person. None of you know what it means to care about someone as a person.”
Something passes over the older man’s face, making it twist into an ugly shape. It’s easy to tell that Vic is right, although I’m sure Alexander would never admit it. Troy was their only son, and I’m sure they’re horrified to hear of his death—but not for the reasons that any good parent would be.
As if he’s just had the same thought I did, Malice snorts.
Alexander hears the noise and whips his head toward Mal, nostrils flaring as he glares at him. “You wouldn’t know a legacy if it slapped you in your face,” he spits. “Don’t presume to judge me.”
Malice’s smile is more a baring of teeth, like an animal about to bite. “I was judging you long before this moment, don’t worry about that.”