Chapter 12
12
Greer
Grant
I’m in your room at the hotel. Where are you?
Brotherhood meeting is taking longer than expected. I should be there soon.
I frown at my phone. What in the heck? I didn’t know there was a Brotherhood meeting today…
Unease courses through me. They only meet a few times a year…unless something has happened. And lately, that ‘something’ has been Elite Members being killed off.
Pulling out my phone, I do a search on all the Elite Members, but nothing comes up.
I exhale.
I’m just being paranoid, right?
But the Brotherhood is good at hiding the news they don’t want the public to know about. So it’s possible something happened to Jones or Zhāng. I know it’s not Charles, Alessandro, or Brooks, because I know for certain I would have heard something.
A knock on the door has me jumping.
“Get it together, Greer,” I say to myself as I cross the floor.
Looking through the peephole, I spot Aimée. Something isn’t right. How did she know I was here? I purposely didn’t tell anyone in my family that I was going to be in town for this very reason. So why is she here?
Opening the door, I ask, “Is everything okay?”
“Of course it is, darling,” she answers as she walks into the suite. “Can’t I come see my favorite family member?”
There are holes in her statement. I’m not her favorite family member. My mother is. And how did she know I could be found in Grant’s suite?
“Aimée, what’s going on?”
Because the last time she showed up somewhere unannounced it was to drag me to Alessandro’s house to make Isa jealous…
Her eyes widen in innocence. “Nothing. I swear.”
“Did Charles send you?”
“No.” She waits a beat and says, “Well, he let me know you were in town, and I need someone to talk to. I think I might be pregnant…”
Well, that’s not what I was expecting!
“Oh my goodness! Congratulations!”
I hug her, but she doesn’t hug me back.
Instead, she says, “I was hoping we could go celebrate.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Well, you know how protective my husband is about me going out, so I planned a spa day at the house. It won’t take long, I promise.”
A spa day that’s not going to take long? Warning bells go off in my head, but I nod.
“Of course. That sounds lovely. I just need to grab my cardigan.”
In the other room, I pull out my phone.
Grant
Listen, I’m not sure what’s going on, but Aimée is here and wants me to go to her house for a bit.
My gut says this has something to do with the Brotherhood meeting you’re at.
So, please, let me know if there’s something I need to know…
He doesn’t reply, so I have no choice but to tuck my phone in my pocket and grab my cardigan. Aimée is typing on her phone when I walk into the main room. She smiles as she stands.
“Let’s go.”
I pray the entire car ride that Grant will text or call. He doesn’t.
When we arrive at the house that Charles and Aimée live in, my stomach churns. It’s been years since I’ve been back at this mansion. Not much has changed on the outside, making it even harder to walk through the front doors. I almost expect to smell Grandfather’s cigar lingering in the air. Instead, I’m met with a harsh floral scent that makes my nose twitch.
Aimée says, “Let’s wait in the formal living room.”
“Wait? I thought you said you planned a spa day. Are they not here?”
She says, “We’re a bit early.”
She’s lying. Why?
I follow her into the formal living room. The walls have been painted a light blue and there’s new furniture. I wonder what else has changed. She sits on the white loveseat and points to the matching couch across from her. I sit, too, smoothing out my dress.
“I spoke to your mother today. She seems to be doing well.”
“I wouldn’t know,” I reply. “I try not to speak to her unless I have to.”
Aimée laughs, but stops when she sees my face. “Oh, you’re serious.”
“Very serious.”
“Adara didn’t mention it.”
“No, I’m sure it’s not something she even notices. She never has before.”
Aimée shakes her head. “I’ve never understood the two of you. I’d do anything to see my own mother, and yet the two of you act like you can’t stand each other.”
This is the first time she’s said that my mother can’t stand me. Sure, I already knew, but hearing someone else say it is different. It feels validating in a way. Like I wasn’t making it up in my head.
I say, “From what you’ve said of your mother, she was kind and sweet. The same can’t be said for my mother.”
“Is this because of what happened to your father? I thought you’d be over that by now.”
I huff out a laugh before I can stop myself. “Are you over the death of your mother?”
“Well, no, but it’s different. My mother died of a heart attack.”
“It’s not different. You didn’t know she was going to die, just as I didn’t know my father was going to die.” I pause, trying to get my emotions under control. “I thought we were celebrating Grandfather’s birthday that night. I had no idea what the gathering was really for. Mother was supposed to tell me and chose not to.”
Aimée is silent, because, really, what can she say to that?
Finally, she says, “I’m sorry.”
Those two little words hold so much power behind them. Sometimes I wonder how I’d feel if my mother said them to me. I doubt she ever will, but it’s nice to think about.
“Thank you.”
Aimée says, “Well, tell me what’s been new with you. How’s HYPE? I heard you were at some kind of whale rally recently.”
I look her over. A long time ago, she was everything I wanted to be. Not because I think there’s anything wrong with me, per se, but because it would make fitting in easier. Looking at her now, I can see that even she wears a mask. Her true emotions are hidden by layers of makeup and harsh words. And lies. Because if she knows I was in Seattle for the whale rally, then she knows I was fired.
“How did you know I was in Dallas?”
“What?”
“How did you know I was in Dallas?” I meet her gaze. “The room wasn’t under my name.”
A light blush creeps up her neck. “Really, Greer. Don’t sound so suspicious. You’re starting to sound like Jacqueline Chanel Minty-Smith.”
“Just answer my question.”
She stands. “I’m going to the restroom. Excuse me.”
She hurries from the living room, but I spot her phone up to her ear as she leaves. Well, if I didn’t think something was up, I do now. I stand, needing to move. Aimée said she spoke to my mother today. Is that what this is? Some kind of attempt to get me here so my mother can try to speak to me? That doesn’t explain why the Brotherhood is having a meeting, though. My gut says this little visit from Aimée definitely has something to do with the Brotherhood.
Does Grant know?
I check my phone. He hasn’t read the texts I sent earlier. Ugh. My gut is screaming for me to get the hell out of this house, but I don’t get a chance because Charles walks into the living room, a grim smile on his face.
“Come into my study, Greer. I’d like to have a chat with you.”
But the study will never be his because it will always belong to Grandfather . I follow him to the study, taking the seat across from his desk. Not much has changed in here, which is a relief of sorts. I don’t know how I could handle being in here if it didn’t look the same. Charles sits in Grandfather’s chair, reminding me just how little of a man he is.
“Cousin, as you know, I took a vow when I took over the Brotherhood to protect you.”
Unease creeps its way up my spine.
“I know, and you’ve done an excellent job so far.”
He smiles. “I have, but I feel both Uncle Hugo and Grandfather Hudson wouldn’t agree. They would wonder how you’ve made it to the age of thirty-two without a husband.”
“I disagree. They know that you and Aimée are carrying on the Blanc name with sweet Alyssa and Bonnie. They would not have a need for me.”
Or my ovaries, because, at the end of the day, that’s what this boils down to.
Charles says, “Aimée can no longer have any more children.”
Ice douses me. “What? But she said?—”
“She lied,” he snaps. “Which is why you’re here today. We must ensure that the Blanc line continues, and that means that you must get married and have a child of your own.”
“Even if I get married, the child won’t be a Blanc.”
“You’re right,” he agrees. “It will be half Blanc.”
“I don’t understand how this is going to help.”
“It’s not your place to understand! Your place is to do as I say.”
I sit a bit straighter. “And what are you saying, Charles?”
“You will marry Grant Carter. Today.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “No.”
“This isn’t up for debate, Greer. Our family is in a precarious position, and we need all the allies we can get. Your marriage to Carter will ensure that he can’t make moves against me.”
Of course, this marriage is in Charles’ best interests, not mine.
“What have you done, cousin?”
“Me? I’ve done what was expected of me.” He stands. “Just as you will. Your groom is on his way, as is a judge. My wife will show you to a guest room where you can change. We want your wedding photos to be picture perfect since the press will get them.”
I stand, too. “Does Grant know?”
Because that’s what this really boils down to.
“Of course he knows.”
He knew, and he didn’t warn me?
And just like that, my heart breaks.