30. Reese
CHAPTER 30
Reese
Conrad’s journal felt like it was burning in my back pocket as I began pacing in Laurene’s hospital room. My pulse was a steady roar in my ears, my head pounding from too much—too much shit, too many lies, too many goddamn problems stacking on top of each other.
“T-twenty million?” Laurene echoed, her voice barely above a whisper.
She exhaled sharply, gripping the sheets. “Reese, this is becoming too much.”
I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “Tell me about it. And that’s not even the worst of it.”
Her eyes snapped to mine, a flicker of fear crossing her face, but she masked it quickly. “What do you mean?”
I stopped pacing. My hands felt cold, my chest tight, but I had to say it. I couldn’t hide from this anymore.
I pulled the crumpled note from my pocket and threw it onto the bed. The ultimatum. Laurene stared at it, disbelief written all over her.
“I should have told you. I—I never wanted you to get hurt. If I had told you sooner. Then I got the call about the accident?— ”
Her eyes snapped back to mine. “Wait. You mean… You’re saying this is your fault? That I got hurt because of you?”
“I didn’t think it was gonna escalate!” I rushed to her side, my voice desperate, raw. “I never meant for you to get hurt. I just…I thought I could handle it. I hired a PI. But now…now I can’t even think straight.”
Laurene looked away, struggling to steady her breathing. The tears came now, unbidden, and she wiped them away hastily. “Well, I wish I knew that before I gave my inheritance away. But how much worse can it get?”
I stopped pacing and pulled the journal from my pocket, tossing it onto the bed.
“Conrad,” I said, voice flat. “He was stealing from the company. Millions, probably. And he was gonna pin it on me.”
Her breath caught. “What?”
“It’s all in there.” I nodded at the journal. “Numbers. Transactions. A whole fucking plan to make me the fall guy while he walked away clean. But where he was sending that money? I don’t know.”
Laurene reached for the journal with trembling fingers, flipping through the pages, her eyes darting over the handwriting. I saw the moment it hit her, the way her shoulders tensed and her expression tightened.
“He was going to frame you,” she murmured, looking up at me. “He—Reese, he was really gonna do it.”
I used to think that one day, despite everything, Conrad and I could fix what was broken between us. Yes, he stole my ideas, but we weren’t always like this—hateful, distant. As kids, we were brothers. Then I hit my teenage years, and suddenly Conrad became Dad’s perfect shadow. Yes, Dad. I agree, Dad. Harold’s own fucking robot.
Now he wasn’t fucking redeemable in my eyes.
“Yeah.” My voice was rough, edged with something I couldn’t push down. “He spent years treating me like I was a fucking disgrace. And the whole time, he was the one stealing from the family. From me.”
Laurene stared at the journal like she wanted to burn it. “Reese, this wasn’t your fault.”
“Yeah? Tell that to the part of me that would fucking kill him if he wasn’t dead already.”
Laurene leaned forward on the bed, catching my hand.
“Then scream,” she whispered. “But you’re not carrying this alone.”
I let out a slow breath, flexing my fingers against hers.
“I’m investigating everything now—where the money Conrad stole went, who else was involved. I’ve frozen all the company accounts. No one’s touching a damn cent until I know the full damage.”
“But we have to pay off the blackmailers.” Laurene swallowed.
I stiffened. “No, we don’t.”
“Yes, we do.” Her voice was softer, but unshakable. “They aren’t going away, Reese. Look at me!” She gestured to herself on the bed.
“I’m not handing over money to some faceless bastard when I don’t even know what the endgame is. Twenty million? Who’s to say it stops there?”
“There’s nothing else we can do. They could have killed me and Jennie and the baby.”
Every instinct in me rejected giving in to their demands, but I knew Laurene had a point.
“I have the ten million from Dante.”
I stopped cold. “From Dante ? Since when are you friends with him?”
She straightened. “Recently. I made a deal with him.”
“A deal for ten million ? For what?”
“For my help when the time is needed.”
I made a face. “What the hell does that mean? Now we’re friends with him? He’s still a suspect. ”
“It means we have some money.”
I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “So instead of being tied to your parents, you decided to owe Dante Castillo?”
She lifted her chin. “He keeps secrets.”
“He keeps secrets because he’s the fucking devil,” I scoffed.
“He came to me with a blackmail photo, and instead of using it, he warned me. Maybe he’s not as bad as you think.”
I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Come on, Laurie. He’s a predator.”
“He didn’t have to help me.”
“No, he didn’t,” I agreed. “Which means when he does come to collect, it won’t be something as simple as a check.”
She lifted her chin, unwavering. “And we don’t have twenty million.”
“We have the money. Just not for these thieves. I think it’s time we call in the law.”
“No,” Laurene exhaled. “This can’t get out, it will ruin us. Our image and everything.”
“I can’t stand around and let you get hurt. What if they go after your family? My mom? More people we love getting hurt?”
We stared at each other, neither of us willing to back down.
Then my phone buzzed. I glanced down. A message.
Plane’s ready.
Laurene saw my face shift. “What?”
“I’m going to Vegas,” I said.
She nodded, sitting back on the bed, “Go. I’ll be fine.”
I didn’t want to leave her. Not now. Not when we were in the middle of this shitstorm.
“You need to have this talk with your dad. Once and for all. This time, he doesn’t control you. Don’t let him handle you. We’ll figure it out when I get back. My family is here. The security is here. I’ll be fine.”
She didn’t have to worry about that. He would never, ever hurt me again .
She reached for my hand, threading our fingers together. “Just remember why you’re going. Not for him. For you .”
For the company. For the mess Conrad left. For the damn truth.
I stepped closer, brushing my fingers against her jaw before tilting her chin up. “Don’t leave this room or the hospital without security. We’ll discuss what to do when I get back.”
“I won’t.”
“I mean it, Laurene.”
“I promise.”
I brushed my thumb along her jaw, then let go.
And I walked out, hoping I’d survive the fucking wrath of Harold and his mess.
The dry air felt rough and irritating on my skin. The jail loomed ahead. My legs were restless, like I couldn’t decide if I wanted to stand still or pace until my feet bled.
The city buzzed in the distance, the sound of traffic and life and all the bullshit that went with Vegas, but here, it was dead quiet. Just the faintest breeze kicking up dust and the distant whine of a siren that seemed to echo inside my skull.
After doing business with my clubs in Vegas for so long, you get to pull enough favors, and Harold should have been walking out those doors twenty minutes ago.
Hell, I didn’t want to have this conversation, but there was no way I was letting him walk out of there without facing the truth. Without facing me. I sat in the back of the car, flipping through the document that Nathan sent, all fucking there in black and white.
Page after page, the numbers bled together—fractions of a million here, a couple hundred thousand there. But adding it up? It was a fucking fortune: $32.7 million .
That was how much had disappeared under Harold’s watch over the years. He wasn’t just gambling; the man was a fucking addict.
The bastards had been bleeding Ashbourne Capital dry.
Harold and Conrad had been taking money separately. Harold hadn’t done it alone. The board. The very people who were supposed to protect the company, had been funneling funds, shuffling numbers, masking withdrawals under bullshit expense reports.
Conrad’s theft went further. He’d been taking money and sending it to this sperate account. Harold hadn’t known nor did I. The money had been going to this account up until I cut off funds.
Nathan was looking into information on this account and how this person had access.
Anyone who helped Harold had been fired, and I planned to ruin all their damn careers and reputations. They wouldn’t be able to work at the fucking liquor store when I was done with them.
“Mr. Ashbourne,” my driver said.
I looked up as the door creaked open, a grating sound that sliced through the air. And there he was—Harold.
He looked smaller somehow, like the weight of the last few days had chipped away at him, but there was still that damn arrogance he carried.
The bastard had ruined everything, and for what? A few high-stakes poker games?
I set the tablet down, stepping out of the car.
“Reese.” His voice was rough, like he’d been chewing on gravel. “I’m surprised you got me out of here. Least you can do.”
“Don’t,” I snapped.
He stopped a few feet away from me, and he must have seen my expression, because this time he tried to look sheepish. “I know you’re upset?—”
Before he could finish, I punched him. He stumbled back, eyes wide with pain. He clutched his jaw, his face twisted in a mix of surprise and anger.
“Reese, what the hell—” he started, but I didn’t let him finish.
“You’re a horrible father, husband, and overall fucking lousy human being,” I said calmly.
His hand dropped from his face, and I could see the anger flaring in his eyes now. “I’m your father?—”
My fist slammed into him again, the force of the blow sending a jolt up my arm. Harder. This time, the bone shifted beneath my knuckles with a sickening crunch; I felt the give of cartilage as he staggered, crumpling to his knees. A steady stream of blood dripped from his mouth, staining his chin.
He spat to the side on the pavement.
Conrad’s journal explained everything. Reading on the plane, I learned Conrad had been just as overwhelmed with Harold’s ridiculous expectations. He’d wanted to get away from the family for a long time. So he planned to take the money and run.
“That all you got, boy?” His voice was taunting. “You think this makes you a man? Hitting your old man like that?” He sneered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re just like me. No better. No different.”
That was the thing about men like Harold.
They never took responsibility. Never admitted they were the problem.
I thought about Conrad. About the way he crumbled under the weight of Harold’s expectations, the way he broke, and instead of fighting back, he chose to save himself.
No, I didn’t forgive Conrad. But I understood him now.
And Harold—Harold was the reason for all of it.
Crack.
My fist crashed into his jaw one last time, harder than before, and he went down. Hard.
For Conrad.
For everything Harold took.
For everything he ruined .
I stood over him, my breathing slow and controlled, watching as he groaned, shifting onto his side. He wouldn’t get up quickly—not this time.
“I’m nothing like you.”
“You’re weak,” he snarled, lying on his side he looked up at me. “Look at you! Always emotional! Always reckless!”
“You’ve been lying to us for years. You ruined everything. You dragged Mom into this scandal, you used Conrad, and you didn’t even go see Jennie or your granddaughter in the hospital. That’s a selfish man, not a man who cares about his family.”
“I did what I had to do.” His voice was low, like he was trying to reason with me.
“Bullshit!” I shouted. “You did what you wanted to do.”
“You don’t know the whole story, Reese.”
“I know enough,” I shot back. “I know enough to see you for who you really are.”
“Then hit me again, big guy. Since that’s all you can do?”
“Yeah, I could hit you again. I could probably fucking kill you, but I won’t. You’re not worth it. No one is gonna push me there again,” I said, my voice steady, almost calm. “Because what would that do, really? You’d still be the same sad, broken man. I know the truth now, Harold. I know everything.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out Conrad’s journal, the worn leather cover rough against my fingers.
“This,” I said, holding it up for him to see. “Conrad kept a record of everything. Your lies, your manipulations, how you tried to control us and shape our lives the way you wanted. He wrote it all down.”
Harold’s eyes widened slightly, the confidence in his posture wavering. “You think a few scribbles in a notebook mean anything?”
“You pushed him to the point where he was stealing money from our company, framing me, and cutting you off. He was gonna run away, did you know that? ”
Harold looked shocked.
“Yeah, your golden son wasn’t so perfect. He fucking hated you. He thought just like me what a fucking cancer you are.”
His head dropped to the ground, his chest heaving, and I saw the blood drips fall slowly. Plop. Plop. Plop.
“Get up,” I growled, barely able to hide the disgust in my voice.
With a groan he pushed himself up to his knees, making a show of shaking and falling back down, but I didn’t care, I watched him till he stood at his full height looking at me.
“Why were you gambling, Harold?” My voice was steady. “Blair was involved in this too? How’d she fit in?”
His eyes flickered to mine—guilt, regret, fear all tangled up in the look he shot me.
“Blair took my bets,” he muttered. “She—she got me in contact with her father. Thought I could make more, but I lost more than I won. Couldn’t stop. I thought I could get out of it, but…but I didn’t. Toby got in on it. Said he knew some people in Dubai that could double my odds.”
I took a step closer, closing the distance, and I saw his eyes widen.
“You’re gonna pay back every fucking cent, Harold. All thirty-two million you stole. And I don’t care if you have to pawn every fucking thing you owe or hit the blade, but you will pay Ashbourne Capital back.”
His face fell.
“Ashbourne Capital belongs solely to me and Jennie now. You’ll forfeit all stocks, investments, and equity in the company. You don’t get a say in anything related to our business anymore.”
“I fucking made this company!”
“I could sue you. But I’m letting you bow out with ease you don’t fucking deserve. You either go to jail for your crimes or you go to rehab. If Mom wants to divorce you, you’ll accept it with no resistance, and if she doesn’t, you go to every fucking marriage counseling session. If you miss a single one, I’ll be right back on your ass like a tick.”
Harold glared at me.
“What will it be?”
“You think I’m going to let you take everything from me?” he sneered. “You’re just a kid playing at being a man. You don’t have what it takes.”
“Maybe not,” I replied, my tone unwavering. “But I have a wife whose side I need to be back next to. I need to make sure Jennie and your granddaughter survive. I can be the man you and Conrad couldn’t be. All this ends with me.”
Finally, he gave me a look, one of pure defeat. “Fine. I’ll sign it over. Just…I want to speak to your mother. Explain everything to her first.”
I just nodded once, and without another glance, I walked to my car and slammed the door. The driver took off immediately, leaving Harold standing there in the dust.
The phone buzzed in my pocket. I looked at the caller ID. Nathan. I answered it without a second thought, leaning back in my seat.
“Reese.” Nathan’s voice crackled over the line. “We found something else.”
“What?”
“It wasn’t just Conrad and Harold,” Nathan said.
I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Who else?”
There was a pause, and I could almost hear Nathan swallowing on the other end.
“Your mother, Reese. She’s been taking money too.”