Chapter 44
Chapter Forty-Four
ROMAN
Caspian opens the door before I can knock.
"Hey, Rome." I step into his penthouse on Sunset, a wall of windows framing the glittering LA skyline.
Polished marble floors reflect the chandelier's light, leading past a floating staircase to the sunken living room where a white leather sectional faces a fireplace big enough to roast a cow.
A Basquiat hangs casually above it. The place is almost as nice as mine.
I nod. “I need your help.”
“What’s going on?” He looks extremely worried, and I don't blame him.
He could tell by the edge in my voice when I called him that there's something very wrong.
And he's known me for long enough to know that I don't hit him up like this unless I'm at my wits end.
Which I am. The absolute end of my rope.
"Your sister. You have to help me.”
"What did she do now?”
I slam my fist against the wall. "She threatened Lilith." My voice comes out like gravel. I tell him how Sera cornered Lilith, how she promised to destroy everything I've built if Lilith didn't vanish from my life.
Caspian's eyes widen. "Jesus Christ. That psycho's been obsessed with you since day one. After you dumped her, my phone would light up at three in the morning—her sobbing, screaming about how you belong to her. I should've warned you she'd snap eventually."
"I don't give a damn about the past." I grab his shoulder. "I need your help. Now."
He jerks back. "What exactly am I supposed to do?"
"Give me something on her. Anything." My voice drops to a dangerous whisper.
"I need leverage that'll make her back the hell off before she poisons my investors.
You know how she operates—twisting everything, making people believe whatever sick version of reality she's selling.
" I lean in closer. "Listen to me. Losing Lilith isn't an option.
I would burn everything to the ground before I let that happen. "
I'm trapped between a rock and a hard place.
If Sera isn't dealt with, I'll be forced to choose: my father or Lilith.
Choosing Lilith could send this entire resort project tumbling down.
These investors are crucial, and even if Dad borrowed from Granddad as a last resort, Sera would still find ways to sabotage everything.
She'd stop at nothing to ruin him. Right now, the investors have no clue about Dad's battle with the bottle.
Sera would make damn sure they found out he's barely twenty months sober.
Sure, I could also write the check myself if the investors bail.
But that's not the real problem. One whiff of scandal—whether it's about Lilith or my father's demons—and the resort's reputation is tarnished before we even open the doors.
And Sera? She'd be all too happy to strike the match and watch it burn.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he says. “I won’t let her do this to you.”
I nod, feeling the tension in my jaw. "Thanks.
But I want to brainstorm with you tonight.
" The thought of returning to my empty penthouse makes my skin crawl—pacing across Italian marble floors until dawn, watching the city lights flicker below.
Sleep would be impossible. My mind is a hurricane with her at the center.
I need to contain this situation before it spins further out of control.
The hatred I feel for Sera burns cold in my chest. Her years-long obsession has finally crossed a line I didn't think even she would dare to cross.
I follow him into his living room and he hands me some scotch, which burns pleasantly down my throat as I study his face, searching for any hint of what he might be thinking about his sister.
"Now what kind of information do you think we need about my sister so that she'll back off you?" His voice breaks the heavy silence between us.
I shrug, rolling the cool glass between my palms. "What do you think? What's her Achilles heel? It has to be something damning enough to keep her quiet."
He laughs, a sharp sound that doesn't reach his eyes. "So it has to be something better than holding over her head the night she snuck out of the house to meet Tanner Pennington, the tattooed bad-boy who rode a motorcycle and made my parents clutch their pearls."
Despite everything, I feel my lips curve into a genuine smile. "Yeah, I don't think teenage rebellion quite covers it. But nice try."
He runs a hand through his hair. "Shit. She'll have my head for this.
But I can't stand by while she ruins you.
" His eyes meet mine. "Twenty-eight years of friendship means something to me.
And look, there was always this small part of me hoping you'd end up with my sister, make it official, you’d be my brother-in-law.
But that ship's sailed. But you're still family to me, Roman. Always will be."
I lean in, desperate for whatever he's about to reveal.
He exhales heavily. "My sister committed insider trading.
Drunk one night, she bragged about making a fortune on Orion Pharmaceuticals right before their miracle weight loss drug hit the market.
Remember that pill everyone's taking now?
Five years ago, Orion was nothing. After that drug, their stock exploded—twenty times what she paid.
Sera had an executive wrapped around her finger.
" Caspian's jaw tightens. "That's her specialty—batting those eyes and getting men to spill their secrets.
This poor bastard never stood a chance."
“Name, please.”
Caspian shrugs. “Don’t have a name. She didn’t tell me that much.”
My fingers tap a staccato rhythm against the glass tabletop. I need leverage. Something concrete that would hold up in court—federal court—or she'll dismiss this entire situation with that infuriating laugh of hers.
"This information is promising, but insufficient. I need to establish a timeline for the insider trading. Dates, specifics. Then I'll have Sven breach her email server, search for correspondence with this contact. If we find evidence of a tip-off, she'll have no choice but to back down."
But even as I say it, I know we're grasping at straws. What are the odds she'd leave such an obvious digital trail?
Caspian's jaw tightens. "I have the dates," he says, pulling a crumpled paper from his pocket. "Been carrying this around like a fucking grenade with the pin half-pulled. Every day I wake up thinking today's the day I call the feds. But she's my blood. My goddamn sister."
I slam my fist on the table, making the glasses jump.
"I don't need her in handcuffs. Yet. I need a sword hanging over her neck.
" I lean in, voice dropping to a razor's edge.
"Because if she gets these investors whispering about my father's drinking, or breathes one syllable about Lilith being a witch, I will personally escort her through the gates of hell.
Twenty years in federal prison will feel like a spa retreat compared to what I'll do.
I'll take everything—her money, her reputation, her future—until she's begging for those prison bars to protect her from me.
So I get those dates, and that beautiful mouth of hers stays permanently shut. "
He gives me the dates and I text Sven.
Got a job. Meet me at the resort tomorrow at 10.
Got it.
I smile. It’s a long-shot, but if it works…Lilith will be mine, with no threat hanging over her head. Or my head, for that matter. My father’s secrets will be safe.
God, I hope there’s some kind of trail…