Chapter 28 Chloe
I woke up to someone saying my name. My head throbbed, and my mouth tasted like I'd been chewing on pennies. I pressed my palms against my eyes and tried to remember how I'd gotten here—the plantation, the stairs, Killian carrying me. Me saying nasty things to him. Me trying to pull his pants off.
Oh, God.
"Chloe." Killian's voice was low and urgent.
My eyes opened slowly. The ceiling came into focus first, then the edge of the bed, then him. He was already dressed. He had this look on his face. Something was wrong.
"What?" My voice was rough from sleep.
He ran a hand through his hair—something I hadn't seen him do before. It was a disruptive, uncontrolled gesture. "The FBI is here."
That was quick. I'd expected at least a week before my father reported what happened—probably rewriting the story to suit himself.
“I can call in some favors if you need?”
I didn't rush to answer. I thought about it and decided no. I shook my head.
I wanted to show Killian I wouldn’t keep using him.
My mild reaction seemed to bother him. But I understood. He needed me to react. Panic. Something he could fix. Poor man, he wanted to keep being my hero. I could feel his impatience, the way his fingers tapped against his thigh in a silent rhythm.
I pulled the covers back, smoothing my hair down, trying to convince myself that I had prepared for this. I was still in the clothes I'd worn the night before. I grabbed my phone, text my lawyer as Killian began to pace.
"Let's get this over with," I finally said after he texted me back.
Killian led me through house. It smelled overwhelmingly of flowers; arrangements were everywhere. Sunshine streamed through the windows.It felt homey. It wasn't what I'd expected from the outside looking in.
The agents were in the parlor. Two of them—a man and a woman in dark suits. Killian's grandfather sat in his wheelchair near the fireplace, his knuckles white around the armrests. Elara stood behind him, her expression unreadable.
"Ms. Landry," the female agent said flashing me her badge, stepping forward. "I'm Special Agent Reyes. This is my partner, Special Agent Morton. We need to ask you some questions about your disappearance."
"Why the FBI?" Killian snapped. "This should've gone through local police."
"Chloe Landry was reported kidnapped across state lines," the agent replied calmly.
"I don't mind answering questions," I said, standing in the center of the room. "What would you like to know?"
"Your father reported that you were taken against your will," Agent Reyes continued. "He provided medical records indicating that you're unable to care for yourself. He's concerned for your safety."
"My father is a liar," I said, my voice clear and steady.
"I haven't been kidnapped. I left willingly.
I'm of sound mind, and I have a lawyer who can confirm that.
" I reached for the phone in my pocket. Mr. Barker was already on the line.
I held it out to her. "You can speak to him now, if you'd like. "
Agent Reyes didn't take the phone. "Ms. Landry, we're going to need you to come back to headquarters with us. Just to clear things up. Standard procedure."
I didn't move. "Or," I said, "I can call my father and clear this up in about two minutes. May I step into the other room?"
"Five minutes," Agent Morton said.
I closed the door behind me and dialed the number I'd memorized years ago. The line rang twice.
"Hello?" Arthur answered, his voice thick with sleep.
"Arthur," I said, my voice barely wavering though my hands trembled.
There was a beat of silence. "Who is this?"
"It's Chloe," I replied, refusing to let fear slip in.
Arthur's voice cracked. "Chloe?" I heard him fumbling with the phone. "You—you can talk? Your uncle said you could, but I barely believed... what a wicked game you played."
I let out a chuckle. "I can do a lot of things you don't know about, Daddy. Like keep records. Compile evidence. Every bribe. Every doctor you paid to sign false papers. I have it all."
"You're lying."
"I'm not. I was ten when I stopped talking.
You think I forgot how? You were convinced by my bad acting.
The humming. I don't understand how you could convince yourself something was wrong with me when nothing ever was—you just decided that I was actually stupid.
I overheard so many of your conversations.
Your daughter couldn't hold water. I filed it all away. "
I laughed. "So you're going to call the FBI and tell them to back off. You're going to tell them I wasn't kidnapped. You're going to tell them I'm exactly where I want to be. Then you're going to move out of my family's house. And out of their company.”
"I'll see you in hell first."
"No," I said. "You'll see me after my twenty-fifth birthday. When the money transfers. When the power of attorney becomes worthless. When I walk into that house with my lawyers and take back everything you stole."
"You think you can threaten me? I'll—"
"You'll what? Kill me? Like you killed my mother?"
Arthur's breath caught.
"You have ten minutes," I said. "Call them off. Or I release everything to the media and the FBI."
I hung up. My hands were shaking, but I was smiling. I walked back into the parlor. "It's handled. My father is going to call you."
Agent Reyes looked skeptical, but her phone rang within two minutes. She answered, listened, and her eyes flicked to me. "Understood," she said. "We're leaving."
The agents walked out without a word. I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. Killian's grandfather rolled toward me slowly.
“So you’re Thierry Landry’s granddaughter." I nodded. He shook his head solemnly. "I'm sorry I didn't come for you earlier. I don't know how I'm going to face my old friend on the other side. I would have if I'd known."
I didn’t know this man, but the weight of his regret did something to me. Before I could stop myself, I let out a raw, ugly sob. Killian's hand was on my back instantly. His grandfather took my hand. "You're safe now, child," he said softly.