Chapter Twenty-One
WARREN
I glare at the text, the words blurring as anger surges hot and fast through my veins.
I look up to see Anthony scanning the room, moving with purpose, trying to blend in, to look like a man who isn’t seconds away from dragging my stupid brother out of here.
“What’s got your man in such a state?” my father asks coolly.
“Did you make sure she came?” I snap.
He blinks. “Who?”
“Leoni.”
His eyes widen. The frown that follows tells me everything I need to know. Erik is acting alone in this.
I scoff. “Should’ve known your little wannabe would fuck it up.”
“Jesus,” he mutters, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Find her before she embarrasses us all.”
“What do you think Anthony’s doing?” I hiss, already scanning the room again. “You realise this is all your fault. Your scheming is about to backfire.”
He balls his fists. “Not if I find her first.” Then he marches off, and I groan.
“Darling, we need to pose for photographs,” says Nancy as she approaches. “And you need to give details about the ring. The reporter is relentless with questions.”
I wave Anthony over. “I can’t right now,” I say, dismissing her.
“I’ve looked everywhere,” Anthony mutters.
“My father’s looking too,” I murmur. “Now is the time.”
His eyes narrow. “Don’t you think we have enough on?”
“I can’t let this opportunity pass,” I mutter. “You find Leoni, I’ll go after him.”
He gives a slight nod, then slips me a small packet as we shake hands.
It doesn’t take me long to spot him marching down the hall.
I grab two drinks from a passing waitress and place them down on a shelf just outside the main room.
There’s no one around, and I know for a fact the cameras aren’t recording, they never are at functions like this where evidence can be used against rich men.
I empty the sachet into the drink and stir with my finger. When it looks like it’s dissolved, I pick up the drinks and head after him.
He’s outside, standing on the steps overlooking the water fountains. There’re a few people dotted about, but no one is paying attention.
I hold out the drink, and he snatches it. “What the hell was Erik thinking?” he snaps.
“He doesn’t think, that's why he doesn’t hold a major role in the business,” I say dryly.
“This is because he didn’t get to screw the girl. She’s caused way too much trouble.”
He takes a sip, frowning slightly, then holds it up to the light.
“Probably cheap,” I mutter, sipping my own and pulling the same face. “Harry is tight.”
My father smirks, taking another sip. “You’re not marrying into his family for the money.”
A man passes, nodding his head in acknowledgement. We both return it. “Tell me,” I say, “Is Erik aware?”
“That he’s a fuck up?” He chuckles at his own joke, taking another drink.
“That he’s Mick Rowe’s son?” The air seems to settle around us. A calm washing over me. “We should go inside and talk,” I add, turning on my heel and heading back inside.
I push open the door to the nearest office. The spaces are usually rented out, but the golf club is closed for normal business for the next few hours to celebrate the engagement.
My father storms in, slamming his now empty glass on the table. I check my watch. Ten minutes, that’s all it takes.
“You really have been digging,” he snaps.
“I went to see him,” I say casually. “Looked him in the eye whilst he told me he loved my mother, and you treated her like shit.”
He scoffs. “The man’s delusional. He beat his wife daily.”
He blinks long and slow, giving his head a shake. “Sit,” I order, kicking out a chair. He lowers, gripping the arm rests.
“At least you settled the mystery before you die,” I say, smirking.
He drags his glazed eyes to mine. “What have you done?”
The office door opens, and Nancy walks in, confused. “I got your message,” she says, glancing at me, then at my father.
“Where’s Harry?” I ask.
“Right here,” comes Harry’s voice as he appears behind his daughter. “What’s so urgent?”
“We have guests,” snaps Nancy.
“Witnesses,” I correct.
Harry closes the door. “What’s going on?”
“Good question,” I say, pulling out my mobile. “My father is very good at blackmail…” I find the video I want and turn my phone to them both. “Whilst I went searching for one thing, I found so much more.”
Harry steps closer, his expression hardening as the footage plays of my father with Nancy, then Nancy again, and again, each scene worse than the last. Men in masks. Familiar rooms. Familiar power. Groans of pleasure, cries of ecstasy.
Nancy gasps, clapping a hand over her mouth.
“Now,” I say coldly, “I’m all for sharing. But this?” My lip curls. “This goes too far. Even for me.”
“Daddy, I—”
The slap cracks across the room. I flinch despite myself as Nancy stumbles back, clutching her cheek.
“You stupid little whore,” Harry snarls.
My father’s head lolls forward, then back, his body struggling to keep up with what his mouth no longer can. A wet, useless sound escapes him.
“Things are about to change,” I say calmly, swiping to the next file, showing Nancy on her knees, another powerful man, another unmistakable setting.
Nancy lets out a feral sound, fists clenched as she turns on my father with fury. “Why did you keep these?” she screams.
“He won’t live to use these against you,” I add evenly.
Harry’s chest rises and falls, his nostrils flaring. “What’s the catch?”
“There isn’t one.” I glance at my father as he tries to speak again. Nothing intelligible comes out. “We continue business exactly as we have been. Minus the marriage.”
Nancy’s head snaps toward me.
“I’ll end the engagement publicly in a month or so,” I continue. “Irreconcilable differences.”
“I’ll be humiliated,” she sobs.
“Or,” I say sharply, “I leak the videos.”
“No.” Harry cuts in immediately. “You won’t.” He closes his eyes briefly, then nods once. “Agreed.”
“I’m expanding,” I add. “Italy. My uncle has ships and routes already in place. Cleaner. Safer. Better organised. I expect your full backing.”
Harry nods stiffly, his gaze drifting to my father, who’s now gurgling, his body beginning to sag.“What’s wrong with him?”
I glance back. “Heart attack.”
His eyes narrow. “You’re killing him in a building full of senior law enforcement.”
“Heart attack,” I repeat, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “We should return to the party. Be seen.”
“And him?” Harry asks. “You’re just leaving him?”
I steer him toward the door. “My men will find him shortly. An ambulance will be called, one paid to pronounce his death, not revive him. He’ll be taken to a private hospital. I’ll handle everything from there.”
We step back into the noise and light of the celebration.
And behind us, my father takes his last breath.
It isn’t until Nancy slips her hand into mine that I feel it, her gaze, burning into me. Leonie.
I look up, searching through the crowd.
And then I see her.
She’s staring straight back at me, her face pale, her eyes locked on mine, with my brother standing too close at her side. My world tilts, everything narrowing to that single point of contact.
It happens too fast. Nancy’s fingers tighten around mine. Her other hand comes up, cupping my cheek. I freeze. As she rises onto her tiptoes and presses her mouth to mine, I realise she’s smirking—the curve of her lips, the satisfaction there.
She knows exactly who’s watching. She knows exactly what this will cost me.
Her mouth lingers a second too long, a deliberate show, and when her tongue sweeps forward, I pull back sharply, my breath ragged, my chest tight.
But the damage is already done.
And as I turn back, Anthony has her by the arm and is trying to drag her away.
LEONI
“Get your fucking hands off me,” I scream.
A few people nearby turn, curiosity flickering across their faces.
“Leoni, stop,” Anthony hisses close to my ear, gripping my arm. “Let’s go outside and I’ll get Warren to come and explain—”
“Explain what?” I snap, wrenching against him. “That he’s a lying, cheating wanker?”
“Let her go.” Warren’s voice cuts through the noise. I stiffen. Anthony releases me instantly. “Well played, little brother,” Warren adds coldly. “For a minute there, you reminded me of our father.”
Erik grins, dipping into a mock bow. “I aim high.”
I finally look at Warren. For one stupid, fragile second, I almost forget everything. Almost forget the way my heart just shattered.
“It’s not what it looks like,” he says.
I laugh. The sound is sharp and brittle, too loud for the room. “So, you’re not engaged to her? You didn’t just kiss her in front of my eyes?”
“Go home,” he says quietly. “I’ll come over when I’m finished here and explain.”
I scoff, rolling my eyes. “You have to be joking.”
“Leoni, please.”
I’m already shaking my head, backing away, when Nancy appears at his side. Her smile is cruel. Triumphant.
“Don’t be mad with him, Liz,” she says sweetly. “He was only doing what his father asked.”
“Nancy,” Warren snaps, warning threads through his tone. “Now is not the time.”
She grins wider. “Time is all I have. Just be honest with the girl.”
“Maybe I’ll send those videos after all,” Warren warns.
“I can spin that story,” she replies smoothly. “Trust me.”
“And will Daddy’s trust fund still cover your lifestyle?” he fires back.
“This is ridiculous,” I mutter, turning for the exit.
My heel catches. I stumble and slam straight into Warren. His arms come up instinctively, holding me close. His eyes burn into mine, wild and unfamiliar. Desperate. For a heartbeat, the room narrows to just us.
“He wants to get to your father,” Nancy spits, shattering the moment.
I blink, my hands still clenched in Warren’s jacket, but our moment fades rapidly.
“There’s so much you don’t know,” she continues, laughing softly.
“The fact you thought he’d ever fall in love with a clumsy, useless piece of hired help is laughable. ”
Something inside me snaps. I tear myself from his arms, our eyes still locked—searching, begging, breaking. Then I kick off my heels and run.
I almost make it to the exit before arms wrap around me, lifting me clean off the floor. Erik pulls me against him.
“I’ll take you home,” he murmurs.
My eyes flick past him, desperate. Hoping that Warren will burst through those doors too and tell me he’s picking me. He loves me.
But Warren doesn’t bother to follow. And as a lone tear slides down my cheek, I realise I've been a fool.
I peel my forehead from the cool glass of the window as the car slows, my stomach sinking when I recognise nothing outside.
“Where are we?” I ask, frowning.
“He won’t come looking here.”
I twist in my seat, fury flaring hot and fast. “I didn’t ask you to get me away from him,” I snap. “I asked you to take me home.”
He rolls his eyes like I’m being unreasonable. “So he can turn up and give you his sob story? Tell you how it’s all for your own good?”
The car stops. Before he can say anything else, I shove the door open and get out, the pavement biting into my feet as I storm away. Who the hell do these Baxter men think they are? Dragging me around. Deciding what’s best for me. Like I don’t get a say in my own life.
“I know who really killed your brother.”
His voice cuts through me like a blade.
I stop dead.
Slowly, I turn back to face him, my heart hammering so hard it hurts.
“You knew all along,” he continues calmly, stepping out of the car. “You always knew it was bigger than they said. Bigger than some low-level dealer.”
My throat tightens. He’s too close to the truth. Too casual about it. He holds out his hand, palm up. An invitation. A trap. “Come on,” he says quietly. “Let’s talk.”
Despite every instinct screaming at me to run, my feet move towards him, and I place my hand in his so he can lead me away.