Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
I’m still wrapped in the fog of restless sleep and fragmented dreams when my phone buzzes on the nightstand. I grumble and glance at the display. David.
“Wtisit?” Which, translated from sleep-speak, is What time is it?
“Tell me you’re not still in bed.”
“I’m not still in bed,” I say dutifully. Then I sit up and push the hair out of my face. “I’m sitting on the bed. There’s a difference.”
“Get dressed. We have a problem.”
The urgency in his voice cuts through the last of my drowsiness. “What’s going on?”
“Only your psychotic ex-boyfriend trying to blow up the merger.
“Oh. Well, shit.” Not exactly a hard-edged corporate response. But it’s heartfelt. I rub my temples, fighting a headache. Gabe, seriously. Why?
“Okay,” I say. “Tell me.”
I hear him blow out a frustrated breath. “My parents got another call last night. Whoever’s feeding them information about your father just upped the ante. They’re talking about pulling out entirely.”
I’m on my feet before he finishes the sentence, already moving toward my closet. “What did they say? What information?”
“Financial irregularities. Hints about unreported liabilities. Suggestions that Sterling Hart might be leveraging assets that don’t technically belong to him.
No specifics and no documentation. But their informant swears it exists, and that they’ll reveal it unless the merger goes gracefully into the night. ” David’s voice is tight. Worried.
“But that’s ridiculous. I mean, my dad’s an ass—no argument there. But we have an army of accountants and administrators looking over all that stuff. I can’t believe there’s that kind of monkey-business going on.”
“And yet.”
I sigh. “If this merger falls apart, you and I both get screwed.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
“This is really fucked up. Do you really think your parents will pull out?” I ask. “I mean, anybody off the street could allege that. Without proof it’s just hearsay.”
“You know my father. He may own a casino, but the man is risk-averse. And he’s very, very nervous now.”
I rub my temples, fighting a very pushy headache. “It’s Gabriel. He’s behind it.
“Got there all on my own,” David says. “I talked my parents down last night, but they want a meeting. Today. All of us—you, me, my parents, your father.”
My father. And just like that, my day went straight to apocalyptic. I close my eyes, picturing Sterling Hart in a room with the Mercers, spinning his web of charm and lies, convincing them that everything is fine while Gabriel circles like a shark smelling blood.
“When?”
“Noon. At the Monarch. I already booked conference room three.”
“I’ll be there,” I say, albeit grudgingly. “But you can have the pleasure of inviting my dad.”
“Fair enough. Listen, Bella,” he continues, his voice softening. “We can fix this. But we have to present a united front. You and me, committed to this marriage, committed to making this work. That’s what they need to see.”
The words land like boulders.
It feels like only seconds ago that David and I were on the way to cutting free of our parents and moving on with our dreams in our little bubble of an arranged marriage.
Yes, I’d still have had my broken heart, but at least I’d have the means to build something out of the rubble without my father’s overbearing guiding hand.
But now everything is different. Complicated. And somehow I’m supposed to stand in front of David’s parents and pretend I’m not in love with another man.
A man who’s actively trying to destroy the Father-free life I’ve been trying to build.
I stay in bed even after we finish the call, my phone still tight in my hand as the fragments of my life swirl around me like crazed swallows. A merger to save. A psychotic ex-boyfriend to manage. A father who may or may not have tried to commit murder.
And there I am, right in the middle of the melee. A woman who used to know exactly who she was and what she wanted, now drowning in chaos she can’t control.
And to top it off, this is the day I’m taking over management of the Monarch. Apparently, my day is going to be even more jam-packed than I’d planned.
Just another Wednesday in the Hart-land.
With a sigh, I start for the bathroom to shower and dress in my trustworthy-daughter-in-law mask. Then I stop, realizing I have one more call to make.
Leo answers on the second ring. “Bella?”
“Gabe’s losing it, I say without preamble.
“He showed up at the gallery a few days ago. He took Caged and replaced it with this horrible painting of a butterfly with its wings being ripped off, and he was waiting for me.” My voice cracks, and I force the threatening tears back.
“Just waiting there in the dark for me.”
“He was at the gallery?” Leo’s voice is like sharpened steel. “Did he hurt you?”
“No, no. But he—” I press my hand to my mouth, fighting back the sob building in my chest. “Oh, god, Leo. He’s going off the rails. And he’s fucking with the merger. It’s like he’s trying to keep me trapped under Father’s thumb.”
I draw a long breath, practically drowning in fear and fury and longing and loss.
“That stubborn son of a bitch.” Leo’s voice is tight with frustration. “Do you know where he is?”
“He’s got an apartment under a hotel called the Obsidian. He’s got a fight club down there, too. With a bar and a cigar lounge and who knows what else. I haven’t seen all of it. That part’s called The Beast.”
Leo chuckles.
“Yeah,” I say. “Apropos, right?” I draw in a breath. “Will you come? Can you try to talk him down? Because honestly, Leo, if he screws up this path to freedom, I just might have to kill the bastard myself.”
“Somehow, I don’t see that happening.” I can hear the smile in his voice, and it erases a bit of my overwhelming fear and longing and hatred and angst. “Just, please? Will you?”
“Yeah,” he says, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s the most beautiful word in the universe. “I don’t know if it’ll help, but I can try.
“Thank you.” I can barely push the words out against the flood of relief that surges through me so intensely that I have to sit down on the edge of the bed. “He’ll listen to you.”
“Well, I guess we’ll find out. Ruby and I are in New York. We can be there in a few hours.” For a moment, only silence fills the line. “Sasha and Liam are at their Santa Barbara house, enjoying some time with the kiddo, but I’ll keep them updated.”
“Thanks. Have you seen him?”
“No. That night when I texted you—he never showed.”
I nod. Of course, he didn’t. He hadn’t come back for his family, not yet. He came back to torment me.
I draw a breath, then apologize for dragging Leo into the mess. “I didn’t know who else to call.”
“Are you kidding? This is about Gabe.”
Is it still? I ask, but the question is only in my head.