35. Finn
thirty-five
Finn
B y the time Vivian and I push through the throng of genteel-dressed attendees outside the library, the helicopter blades have come to a complete stop, and my sister’s executive protection agent, Jax, is helping Cordelia down from the cabin.
A helicopter shouldn’t fit in the small cross section between the business road leading to the library parking lot and Sand Bend Road, but there sits a sleek black Sikorsky with my father’s insignia on the tail.
Cordelia smiles brightly at the crowd, familiar with awaiting paparazzi flashbulbs wherever she goes. Only a few teenagers film the ordeal. Every other local seems baffled as to what’s going on.
“Dearest Finnegan!” My sister catches sight of us and strides over, the golden skirts of her elaborate Regency gown swishing behind her.
“What are you doing here?” I squint at the metal behemoth, double-checking I’m not hallucinating.
We’ve always been allowed to schedule flights at will, but every itinerary is shared with our father.
There’s no way he’d permit Cordelia to fly to the city where I’ve been living if we’re not even supposed to be talking on the phone.
Adrenaline surges through my veins, thinking about how he’ll retaliate against my sister’s blatant defiance and how I might be helpless to stop him.
“I wasn’t going to miss this soirée. Not when it benefits such a good cause.” Though Cordelia has always been comfortable in a crowd, there’s an extra zip of energy surrounding her tonight.
“But…the repercussions.”
“Dad is a heartless jerk. It brings me immense joy to disobey him.” Cordelia’s focus drifts to my left, and her smile doubles.
“You must be Vivian! Oh, Finn, she’s just as beautiful as you mentioned.
You”—Cor waggles her gloved finger at Vivian— “are very hard to cyberstalk. There are literally no pictures of you on the internet. How is that even possible?”
Vivian opens her mouth, but Carol Cook interrupts, nearly jabbing me in the toe when she slams her cane against the ground.
“Does anyone care to explain why a helicopter is blocking the only road in and out of town? Who is she? And who exactly are you?” Carol’s age-spotted finger points an inch from my nose.
Shoot. Optics.
Freaking optics.
I should have thought about how this would look, maybe pretended to not know Cordelia, but it’s been over five years since I’ve seen my sister in person.
My heart clenches just looking at her. Suddenly, I don’t care about the fallout.
And there will be fallout. Cordelia is here.
My smart, tenacious, hilarious baby sister is right in front of me.
I’ve seen her grow up over our video calls, but this is…
I step forward, engulfing my sister in a large hug. “I missed you, Cor.”
“I missed you too.” Her voice scratches like she’s fighting off tears, so I tighten my grip.
For once, Carol doesn’t keep asking questions, only utters an appraising hum and waits.
When I release Cordelia, she blinks at the cloudy night sky, dabbing the edge of her eye with a silk handkerchief from her reticule.
“Sorry about blocking traffic,” Cordelia tells Carol, her smile still a little wobbly.
“I’ll handle it,” Jax says, ducking away to speak to the uniformed pilot while keeping his gaze trained on Cordelia.
As my sister leans closer to Carol to answer a question, Vivian grips my arm. “I’ll make sure they leave you alone. Take as much time as you need to catch up.”
“Who?”
“The town.” Then Vivian winks, puts two fingers in her mouth, and whistles so loud even the pilot pauses his climb into the cockpit. “Everyone inside! It’s not safe to be out here when that thing takes off.”
The crowd stares, slack-jawed. Meanwhile, my love for Vivian grows boundless. I wonder if she’ll ever stop surprising me. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life figuring it out.
“When have I ever asked you for anything?” The woman of my dreams narrows her eyes and sets her fists on her hips when all of Wilks Beach remains frozen. “Get. Inside. The. Library.”
“You heard her.” Carol takes Vivian by the elbow, turning them toward the building. “Toot sweet!”
The rotors begin their slow rotation once everyone recedes a safe distance.
The rest of my library staff corrals the curious guests like sheepdogs as Carol and Vivian lead the way back inside.
Once the wind speed picks up, I use my badge to steer Cordelia into the circulation room so we can talk.
My sister and Jax have a wordless conversation before he nods, positioning himself just outside the door.
I lean against the automated book return system, still not believing what I’m seeing. “How is this possible?”
Cordelia’s smile turns wicked. “Turns out I’m almost as good at scheming as Dad.”
“And that means…”
She props herself against a table, grinning like a fiend but not elaborating. My fingers slide through my hair with an exhale. My sister enjoys a slow reveal almost as much as she relishes a grand entrance.
“It all started with some well-timed eyedrops in Dad’s scotch and a teensy-tiny fire.”
I rub my jaw. “ Cordelia. ”
“Okay, okay,” she says before muttering something that sounds like killjoy . “Since you’re so impatient, I’ll spare you the delicious details and cut to the chase. I gained access to Dad’s contract room, and let’s just say I had a lot of fun in there.”
My eyebrows hit my hairline. Most billionaires have something they like to protect, be it a priceless piece of art or family heirloom.
My father protects his triplicate-printed contracts in a walk-in vault hidden behind a bookcase in his study.
Every business dealing of his career, after being digitized, is filed in that room.
I think Grandmother’s Harry Winston collection is locked away in there too, but it’s mostly a shrine for his favorite thing.
Once, when I’d been home from college, he’d taken me in there, showing me the organization system like a proud king flaunting his prized possessions.
“Words,” he’d said, “have the power to make or break a person.” He’d meant contractual words used in a legal sense, but I’d interpreted it under my own lens.
For me, literature, and the families found within, had given me the reprieve I’d needed when my reality had been an emotional wasteland.
“How’d you get past the retinal scan?”
Cordelia sends me an impish grin. “I thought you didn’t want details.”
“I’m reconsidering my stance.”
“No. You’re right.” She waves me off as the orchestra begins playing in the main room. “We’ve got a party to get to.”
I glance at the closed door behind my sister. “Jax helped you, didn’t he?”
Ever since Jax started protecting my sister two years ago, he’s been a little too attentive of her needs.
“I’ll have you know that the plan was ninety-nine percent mine. Jax just helped with cutting the security feed, but you’re missing the takeaway, which is…I have it all.”
“All of what?”
“The contracts. Yours. The contract Dad had with Katelyn.” She pauses when I involuntarily flinch.
I don’t have a shred of emotion for my ex, but I’ll never get over the sting of my father’s manipulation.
“It was the progeny clause of Katelyn’s contract I found interesting.
The bit requiring her to leave before the child turned five. Sound familiar?”
My brows furrow as Cordelia continues.
“When did your mom divorce Dad? Do you remember?”
“I was almost…” My words drop off as a sickening sensation swirls in my stomach.
“Me too. So I pulled the contracts with our mothers—all three of them. How banal of Dad to reuse the same wording in each one, and how predictably cruel of our mothers to willingly sign away their children.” Though Cordelia’s expression remains blasé, the crack in her voice gives her away.
“Cor.” I gather her to my chest.
I don’t say anything else because what is there to say?
We already knew that our father is a controlling scumbag, but discovering that our mothers traded money for the children they were supposed to love leaves me hollow.
The only thing making this situation mildly tolerable is the relationship Cordelia and I forged in spite of our toxic upbringing.
Which brings me back to my original question…
“How are you here?” I ask, releasing her.
My sister sighs, her palms tapping her cheeks a few times. It’s a motion she only does when she’s exhausted. For the first time, I notice her swollen eyelids, the dark circles under her eyes despite her immaculate makeup.
“I told him off.”
All I can do is blink.
“Once the documents were secured, digitized, and given to trusted backups in case something really crazy happened, I marched into Dad’s office and informed him that I’m done playing his games.
Because of Jax’s help during my little heist, he hadn’t known I’d raided his vault.
He also didn’t know that I’d taken all our trust documents as well.
” A small tug lifts one side of her mouth.
“Yours and Brody’s match—one-third distribution at twenty-five, thirty, and the rest at thirty-five, a bazillion terms and conditions, but I discovered something very unusual about mine. ”
I’m about to shake her when she pauses again, that Cheshire grin widening.
“Dad has been in breach of fiduciary duty for almost a year since my trust terms state I should’ve received a single lump-sum payment at eighteen. But more importantly, my trust is irrevocable.”
My knees feel like they’re seconds from giving out. “Are you saying…”
“Dad’s collateral is fake.” Cordelia is luminescent. “He was probably going to sabotage your chances of getting the directorship, but now—”
“He did.” I barely get the words out, struggling to breath. I should be relieved, elated, but it feels like my heart is exploding. “I just found out that he set me up.”
A string of very unladylike words bursts from my sister’s mouth, incongruous with her regal attire.
“This is some next-level Dynasty nonsense.” She grits her teeth.
“That makes me feel even better about telling Dad to shove it after dropping the lawsuit on his desk. Turns out there are a lot of former enemies who were more than happy to offer their legal counsel to see the great Patrick Otto take a hit.”
My head shakes in amazement.
Cordelia frames my shoulders. “None of this would have been possible without you. If you hadn’t loved me when no one else had, if you hadn’t continued to raise me from afar, I’d probably be riddled with addictions or debilitating psychosis.
And that’s why”—a fizzy energy lights her face as she gives me a little squeeze—“you, my tender-hearted brother, are a billionaire again.”
“What?” My eyes fly wide.
“Well, you will be. Once I get my lump sum…” Cordelia uses her index finger to tap my chest. “You’ll get half.”
“You can’t do that.”
“You know what, Finn?” My younger sister looks more mature and confident than I’ve ever seen her. “I’m just figuring out that not only am I completely capable, I can do whatever I want.”
It’s hard to argue with Cordelia when it’s clear she’s finally surfacing the ocean of fear and control that our ruthless father dropped us in at birth— before birth.
My mouth lifts in a grin. “Okay, Cor. You’re the boss.”
“Boss.” She gives her shoulders a little shimmy. “I like the sound of that.”
My spine relaxes as I grin. It’s impossible not to absorb Cordelia’s infectious spirit, like spring flowers tilting up toward long-awaited sunrays.
“So what are you going to do now?” she asks through a broad smile.
I go to slide my hands in my pockets then laugh when I remember that I’m wearing pocketless breeches. “I like my life, especially since moving here and—”
“And falling in love ,” she chimes in, sounding more like her teenage self.
A chuckle escapes me. “And falling in love. Honestly, I’ll probably let that money sit in the bank, accruing interest, until you want it back.”
Cordelia pouts. “No. You’re supposed to use it!”
My gaze flows over the dilapidated circulating room. Everything in here besides the sorting machine is circa 1975 or earlier. “Perhaps some donations are in order.”
“Now you’re talking.”
“And I suppose…” I begin, thinking of Vivian’s plans to see Raven Sacaria and how I might be able to convince her to embrace a little extravagance—just this once. “I’ve got a girlfriend to spoil.”