Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Adrien
“What’s her story?” Margot’s smile is almost predatory.
My sister is a terror when she smells weakness.
She doesn’t crave scandal—those require cleanup—but a whiff of embarrassment?
That she savors. I once believed it came from wanting Father’s approval, but even with the CEO title, she still thrives on mockery.
It’s how she convinces herself she’s superior.
I rest my hands on the chair’s back, narrowing my gaze, calculating how to explain Brie without surrendering anything private.
“You’re not going to sit?” She crosses a leg and drums her fingers on her knee, nails the same burgundy as her sky-high boots. Even her leisure is a performance.
“I don’t have time. As you heard, I have a meeting and I’m already late. What brings you here unannounced?” I’d ask why she isn’t staying with me, except that I know my sister and there’s little she loves more than a splendid hotel suite and Manhattan has those in abundance.
She exhales. “We have a situation.”
Of course we do.
I wait, but she’s silent. Lips pursed, but her expression is something more than business.
“Is Father unwell?” If so, why fly here?
“Mother and Father are fine—sun-drunk in Greece.” She pauses. “But he’s concerned.” Her long, thick lashes flutter.
My sister never modeled, but she could have—her perfectly arched dark eyebrows, expertly applied charcoal shadow, and what are undoubtedly high-end augmented lashes are truly stunning. It’s probably why she’s got a thing for changing the shade of her irises the way some change lipstick color.
Another sigh. Now she’s drawing it out unnecessarily, and I don’t have the time.
“What is it, Margot? What could I have possibly done that concerns him while on another bloody continent?”
“There’s an employee you’re considering firing. You can’t.”
“Excusez-moi?” The French slides out before I can stop it. Warning enough.
“Edward Thorne.”
I go still.
“What about him?” But even as I ask, ice forms in my stomach. How does she know? Tommy knows I’m firing an employee, but I never gave him a name.
“Have you heard of The Magpie?”
“Why have you?” My stare hardens. Inside, a cold, steady Christ almighty.
“So you do know. Then hear me clearly: stop whatever investigation you’ve begun. I made an error sending Alicia Morgan to you.”
She unfolds her leg and rises, smoothing out her burgundy leather skirt, circling the room until she stops at the billiard table, as if choosing her next move.
“But, in my defense, Morgan is someone we want at our disposal too, and she didn’t share her reasons for needing to reach you, or that she planned to pursue a thorough investigation of your little sex club. ”
“It’s not a sex club.” The words leave through clenched teeth.
“Spare the outrage, Adrien. We’re Magpie clients.”
“You buy blackmail?” My voice lowers. “Or is it gossip now?”
She licks her bottom lip then sucks it in to chew on it. It’s a look I’m familiar with. She’s calculating how to best me—but this is insanity.
“We purchase intelligence—market forecasts, design leaks. That’s why d’Avricourt Luxe is always one step ahead.
Call it competitive insight; Father calls it tradition.
Now, before you get riled, no, we didn’t know at the time of your acquisition that your club is an information source for The Magpie.
Obviously, they source our information from alternative sources. ”
I turn to the window. New York gray presses against the glass. I need distance before I say something I’ll regret.
“Yes. Father believes in one torchbearer at a time. A ceremony of corruption. And I’m not authorized to share this with you, but I know you better than our father. I recognize your stubborn side and as far as I can tell, this is the only way to convince you to stop what you’ve started.”
Her words replay but I still have questions. “So we’re a client—one among many buying secrets. And The Sanctuary is one of their sources.”
“Correct. Father built our house by staying a step ahead. Fashion has always been war disguised as glamour. This shouldn’t surprise you.”
“And now one client’s greed has reached Capitol Hill. You think I can simply ask that storm to stand down?”
“No. Obviously Alicia Morgan also needs to be handled. But that’s not why I was sent here.”
“You’re here to handle me.”
“The sexual footage is noise, not currency,” she says, studying her nails.
“Conversations are what sell. My guess is they were stretched for something of value on this particular guy. Typically it’s conversations in your restaurants and meeting rooms—that’s what’s of value—or that’s what I’m told.
Now I happen to know that this Thorne guy is making a nice mint feeding The Magpie, so that might be a conversation worth having with him.
” Done with examining her manicure, she lifts a cue ball from the billiard table and rolls it in her palm.
“But you can’t fire him. Or if you do, you need to replace him.
We risk losing our source of information if you fire him.
If you keep him in place, we get a discounted price moving forward.
I’m willing to share with you the difference, although I know money isn’t a likely motivator.
But I’m hoping your love for our father, for our family’s legacy, will be sufficient motivation.
” She drops the ball down onto the felt and it lands with a thud.
“For me, your little sister. And what do you really care? It’s better for you if this whole incident stays secret. ”
“The photos used as blackmail to the senator were clearly taken here, on site.”
“And the senator won’t say anything because to do so would expose his infidelity. You’re safe. Magpie will be careful with what they share.”
“It must be lovely, that simple world of yours.” KOAN won’t just walk away because I ask nicely. If anything, I’ll be drawn in. And Brie already is. “What about the extortionist? What’s to stop him…or them…from sharing the photos?”
“If the senator meets the demands, no photos are shared.”
I run my fingers through my hair as I debate sharing with my delightful sister how many people are a part of this investigation, that this black-ops group doesn’t just go away. But she’s clever. She’s always been clever.
“How many are a part of your investigative team?”
“I don’t have all the names.” And I sure as hell am not about to tell my sister that Brie’s on that team. I wouldn’t put it past Moira and this Magpie group to see eliminating them all as a viable solution.
“You run a loose shop, do you?”
“It’s not my investigation, Margot, remember?
You asked me to take the meeting with Alicia Morgan.
And when I did, do you know what I discovered?
An entire room in my building I didn’t know existed.
And I’m going to assume a similar operation exists in all five locations, am I right?
And let’s see, since Edward Thorne only oversees two locations, that means I’ve got complicit employees in three other locations to be concerned with. ”
“All you need to do is look the other way. Let it continue. You’ve owned it for three years and haven’t had any issues.”
“Dad’s friends with Moira Kelly. Isn’t he? I was shown a photograph of her—she’s familiar. I’ve seen her in the past. Seen her in photographs with our father at events. Was she more than an acquaintance?”
It’s no secret our parents haven’t always been faithful. I believe now they are, but they’re also in their eighties.
“That’s not something I would ever ask Dad.” On that score, I believe her.
“Is this the reason Father was so against me buying The Sanctuary?” He’d actually tried to halt the bank from underwriting my investment.
“Maybe. Again, you’d need to ask him.” She rolls the cue ball around then sends it rolling into the side of the table. “I’m here to ask you to stop what you can. Keep this Edward Thorne on.”
“Thorne’s vanished. He hasn’t been seen since yesterday.”
“He knows you’re onto him. He relayed back to Moira.
He’ll resurface when cleared. That’s what I need to get from you—his clearance.
If you still plan on firing him, I suppose I won’t blame you.
He’s been essentially skimming revenues if you want to think about it that way.
I can tell them you refuse to keep someone you can’t trust on.
But you’ve got to stop your part in any investigation. ”
“And Magpie will ‘handle’ Alicia Morgan?” I ask, testing how deep she’s in.
Her nod is small, self-satisfied. “Now—this woman. Your mystery lover. Tommy says you’re quite taken. Should I get to know her?”
“No.” The word comes out too fast.
She hears the crack in it and smiles. “You’re protective of her,” she says. “Tommy’s right. It’s not just a fling.”
Damn Tommy for telling my sister the woman from Monaco surfaced. “She gave me a false name in Monaco because she planned to ghost me.” My sister tilts her head back as she laughs. “I met her by chance in Manhattan.”
But even as I speak, cold spreads beneath my skin. Margot may be satisfied with half-truths, but Magpie won’t be. Brie’s already a target.
“I think I like her,” Margot says sweetly, detonating calm as if she hadn’t just confessed duplicity.
She draws her handbag closer, as if shielding something fragile, and strides to the sofa.
“One more thing. If Moira Kelly is touched—arrested, disappears, anything—a dead man’s switch triggers.
Hundreds of files, names, scandals. Your club, our brand, the whole bloody pantheon. It all burns.”
“What does that mean?”
“Files on hundreds of powerful people across many different industries go public. She’s been in business a long time–of course she’s prepared for discovery.
She checks in every seventy-two hours, or the files go public.
Your pride and joy, The Sanctuary, becomes fully exposed.
As I understand it, your membership will evaporate.
But, like I said, you are only a piece of the collateral damage.
d’Avricourt Luxe… We have secrets we’re better off not coming to light.
If this business came out, we’d face lawsuits, there might be an investigation, it’s not a good look and doesn’t reflect well on our creators.
But our issues are mild compared to other clients.
The investigation needs to stop.” She clutches her prized, rare $250,000 handbag to her chest. “No one says it outright, but this runs deeper than Magpie. Multiple interests will protect the entity at any cost.”
She stops at the door, voice soft as perfume. “Oh—and Adrien? They already know about Brie Anderson. You’re not a good liar. Don’t be stupid.”
With the click of the door, understanding settles like a verdict I’m not yet ready to read aloud.
If I continue to help Brie and the KOAN team, I risk severing myself from my family and doing lasting damage to the d’Avricourt name. If I stop—if I play along—I might save the business, but I’ll lose something far more permanent.
Either way, The Sanctuary takes the hit.
Margot didn’t come to negotiate. She came to make sure I understood that whatever choice I make next will cost me everything I thought I could protect.
There is no clean exit. Only timing.
Margot believes I’ll choose blood over truth. Moira believes I’ll choose leverage over conscience. And somewhere between them, Brie is already marked as collateral.
The only question left is how long I can let them believe I’m still playing their game.