Chapter 25
SIMEON
Iretire to the terrace with Jack, loving how the seats overlook a spectacular view, noting a bottle of bourbon and two glasses resting on the marble-topped table.
I lean back in my seat and tip the glass to my lips, relaxing for probably the first time since I began this nightmare mission from hell.
Jack fills me in on what happened after we massacred Liam’s jet and the subsequent fallout and escape from the Goldsworthy building.
When he finishes, he chuckles. “Felipe was pissed. He was angry his carefully laid plans went up into the clouds, and he is running around like a chicken without a head by all accounts trying to find you.”
I allow myself a smile, loving the image he portrays.
“I understand congratulations are in order.”
He raises his glass, and I note the wedding band circling my left-hand finger.
“Yes, phase one complete and phase two–” I smirk, “already in the bag.”
His eyes widen. “How, I mean–” He ignores my smirk and shakes his head. “I should have guessed. No wonder she’s missing in action.”
He reminds me that Alice has been gone for well over an hour, and for some reason, there’s a void beside me that it appears only she can fill.
I hate how my mind wanders to where she can be, and I push it away and get back to business, for some reason hating how I just discussed what happened with Alice as if it had no consequence.
“So, do you have an ETA on the jet?”
“It should be here by morning. The flight plan is being updated, and we are checking that our men are in the tower.”
I don’t know how Jack has the ability to pay everyone off connected with our plans. It’s an admirable quality that I admire, which is why I can’t operate without him.
“None the less, we should prepare for visitors. Is the house on lockdown?”
“Yes. The perimeter is guarded with a laser beam, and we have guards stationed at every exit and patrolling the grounds. The house comes with excellent security, and once those doors lock at night, they can only be opened from the inside.
“Who is inside?”
“You, me, and Alice. The rest of the guards are taking turns to sleep in the guest cottage on the grounds.”
“Good.”
Jack takes a call and smiles as he cuts it.
“Food and supplies are at the gate. Harry is checking it out and won’t allow anyone in and screens everything before he delivers it to the door.”
“Perfect.”
I stand, unusually restless, and nod toward the house. “I’m going to freshen up. Have the change of clothes delivered to my room.”
“Which is?”
“With my wife, of course.”
My arrogant smirk doesn’t go unnoticed, and he grins. “Of course.”
We split up to our individual tasks, and I’m surprised at my haste to reach the room Alice decided on.
I search two before I find her, the room in darkness as the sun dipped below the horizon an hour ago. She is thrashing about in the bed, and as I head to her side, her erratic breathing and pained expression matches the small cries filling the silent space.
For some reason, it concerns me, and the bed dips as I lie beside her. My arm reaching for her, to protect her, reassure her, or merely because I can’t ignore my desire to touch her.
She stirs and with a start pulls away. “What the–”
“Shh. It’s me, Simeon.”
I love how she visibly relaxes and nestles against my side, clutching my chest as if I’m her protector.
“It was so vivid.”
“Your nightmare?”
“Yes.”
Her voice shakes and she gulps, “It’s been a recurring one for many years now.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
“It’s not much, really, just a memory.”
Her breath is falling back to normal levels, and she is no longer shaking as she tells me what she dreamed about and with every tortured word that spills from her lips, my anger intensifies as I plot the demise of Morgan Sorcusi—personally.
“Do you think she was telling the truth?”
“No.”
She gasps. “You mean my mom is dead and this, my quest if you like, is meaningless.”
“That wasn’t what I said.”
I lift her face to mine and whisper, “I don’t agree that your mom didn’t love you. She probably staged her own death, if that was what happened, to save herself.”
“But left me.”
Her tone is sad, and I rub my thumb over her cheek and shake my head. “She may have had no choice, you see, in our world men don’t play by the same rules as everyone else. Your father would never have given you up. You were too valuable for that.”
“Was I?”
She raises her eyes. “I’m not sure if he ever loved us. He was in love with money and everything he did was in pursuit of that.”
“Which gives you your answer.”
“How?”
“He needed you and your sisters to secure your inheritance. Without you, or your mom, he would not be entitled to any of it.”
“But he was the richest man in the world. He didn’t need our money. He had more than any of us.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“What do you know?”
I’m impressed that she caught onto my meaning so quickly, and I stare into her eyes that are level with mine, so close, so inviting but desperate for answers first.
“My father has done his homework, and your father’s empire is heavily in debt.
The only way the bank won’t call in the debt is because of the inheritance paying the monthly payments.
If he had sold everything, he could have paid back the debt, but he was greedy.
He always believed he could recover, that the diamonds would save him, but the mines dried up years ago, leaving him with bills to pay and workers to employ. ”
“How do you know this?”
“I told you. My father does his homework.”
“Do you think Morgan knows?”
“Of course. I’m guessing that’s why she kept you all under her control. Under lock and key, and was happy you fled to the convent and locked yourselves away. If anything, you did her job for her.”
“But why? If there is no money, why is she holding on so tightly? Morgan is the kind of woman who craves wealth. If that is no longer an option, why isn’t she already searching for the next money tree?”
Her questions give me something to consider because she’s right. There is a piece of the puzzle that doesn’t fit, and then Alice sighs.
“You know, not long before our father died, he called us into his office. That wasn’t strange, but his behavior was.”
“In what way?” I can’t stop staring into her eyes, wishing this conversation was over already because I have a sexy wife now and I want to take advantage of that.
“He was edgy, anxious and, for the first time I can remember, almost apologetic.”
She sighs as the memory resurfaces, reopening old wounds and transporting her back to an unhappy place.
“What did he want?”
I’m mildly curious.
“He gave us three matching keys on a gold chain. On each one was our name and date of birth. At first, I thought it was a gift, but then he said with some urgency that we were to guard them with our lives.”
“That’s interesting.”
My mind is racing as I sense a twist in the tale, and she nods, tugging at that infernal bottom lip as she contemplates the meaning of the keys.
“He said that if anything ever happened we were to tell nobody of them until we heard from him.”
“Then he died.”
“Yes. We still have them but gave them to Sister Agatha when we arrived at the convent with all our valuables. Do you think they unlock something that could help us? Perhaps information about our moms and possibly our inheritance.”
Fuck. The idea of trawling back to the fucking convent is not a pleasurable one. I can’t wait to leave this place and get back to normality in New York. However, Alice’s admission raises several red flags, and suddenly the retrieval of the keys is everything.