Chapter 43 The Rabbit Hole
THE RABBIT HOLE
EMMA
Morning light catches Emma's hair as she opens the car door, turning the blonde strands to gold. She's wearing the navy dress I love, the one that makes her look like she could run the world before lunch. Professional. Polished. Mine.
“You're staring,” she says, but she's smiling.
“Can't help it.” I lean across the console, and she meets me halfway, her lips soft and warm against mine. The kiss is brief but it settles something in my chest, a reminder that this is real. That she chose me.
“Have a good day, Mr. Rhodes,” she teases.
“You too, darling.”
She starts to pull away, but I catch her hand. “Wait.” I reach into my jacket and slide a black card into the side pocket of her bag.
Emma frowns, pulling it out. “Kai, I don't need—“
“Indulge me.” I meet her eyes. “Just in case.”
She wants to argue. I can see it in the set of her jaw, the independent streak that drew me to her in the first place. Something in my expression must convince her. She tucks the card back into her bag with a sigh.
“Fine. But I'm not using it.”
“Whatever you say.”
She rolls her eyes, but she's still smiling as she climbs out of the car. I watch her walk toward the GVM building, her heels clicking on the pavement, her head held high. She looks back one last time before entering the building and does a little wave.
I pull away from the curb feeling lighter than I have in weeks. Emma loves me. Me and all the darkness that I bring. Whatever comes next, I can handle it.
Maddox is waiting in the conference room when I arrive, laptop open, screens filled with data. Ethan hovers nearby, expression grim. Logan looks up from his phone, and the look on his face tells me this isn't good news.
“What did you find?” I ask, lowering myself into a chair. My ankle throbs, but I ignore it.
Maddox spins his monitor toward me. “The money trail from the fixer. I finally cracked the last layer.”
I lean forward, scanning the data. Shell companies. Offshore accounts. Transactions buried under enough bureaucracy to make most investigators give up.
“It leads to an account in the Caymans,” Maddox continues. “Registered under a holding company called Aurelia Trust.”
“And?”
“Aurelia was your maternal grandmother's middle name.” His dark eyes meet mine. “The account is in your mother's name, Kai. Helena Hammond.”
The words land like a punch to the gut.
“Are you sure?” I grip the edge of the desk. “Someone could be using her name. Framing her.”
“I triple-checked.” Maddox's tone is uncharacteristically patient. “The account was opened twelve years ago. The signatures match. The authorization codes trace back to her personal devices.”
Ethan steps closer, his voice careful. “Kai, I'm sorry. I know this isn't what you wanted to hear.”
“No.” I stare at the screen, the numbers blurring. “Someone else in her entourage might have access to her details.”
Logan moves to stand beside me. “What do you want to do?”
“I need to talk to her.” The words feel heavy in my mouth. “Face to face. I need to understand why.”
“You already know why,” Logan says quietly. “The shares. Control. Power.”
“Maybe.” I push back from the table and stand. “But I need to hear her say it.”
I walk to my office and send Emma a voice message, keeping my tone light even though my chest feels like it's caving in. “Hey, honey. Just wanted to say I love you. I might be late tonight. Work stuff. Don't worry, everything's fine.”
I send it before I can second-guess myself. She doesn't need my panic. She needs to know I'm thinking of her. That I'm not disappearing on her.
I text Tank that I'll be late. He'll be extra vigilant.
“Let’s go,” I say, walking back into the conference room.
“I'm driving,” Logan says, already grabbing his keys.
“I don't need—“
“The hell you don't.” He fixes me with a look. “Your leg's still fucked, and you're walking into enemy territory. You're not doing this alone.”
I want to argue. Want to tell him this is my fight, my family, my mess. The truth is, I'm grateful. Logan's been by my side since we were kids, taking beatings together at boarding school. If anyone's earned the right to walk into this with me, it's him.
“Fine,” I say. “But I do the talking.”
“Wouldn't dream of stepping on your moment.” He grins, but there's no humor in it. “Let's go see mommy dearest.”
The drive to the Hammond estate feels endless. The city gives way to suburbs, then to sprawling countryside where old money hides behind iron gates and manicured hedges. I watch the scenery blur past, mind churning.
“You want to talk about it?” Logan asks.
“Nothing to talk about.” I keep my eyes on the window. “If she betrayed me… that's another story.”
“Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.” His voice is softer than usual. “She's your mom, Kai. That's a different kind of knife.”
I don't respond. He's right, and I hate it.
“She offered Emma money to disappear,” I say finally. “Five hundred thousand dollars. Threatened her career when she refused.”
Logan whistles low. “Let me guess. Sin told her where to shove it.”
“In so many words.” Despite everything, a ghost of a smile tugs at my lips. “She's something else.”
“She's perfect for you.” Logan glances at me. “Which is probably why Helena hates her. Emma makes you stronger. Harder to control.”
“Helena can't stand anything she can't control.”
“Like mother, like son.” At my sharp look, he raises a hand. “I mean that as a compliment. You both play the long game. The difference is, you actually have a conscience.”
The gates appear ahead, wrought iron twisted into elaborate patterns. I punch in my code, half-expecting it to be deactivated. The gates swing open without protest.
“Arrogant,” Logan mutters. “They didn't even bother to change the codes.”
“Why would they? They don't think I'm a threat.”
We wind up the long driveway, gravel crunching under the tires. The mansion looms ahead, a monument to old money and older secrets. Every window is dark. The fountain in the courtyard gurgles softly, the only sound in the eerie stillness.
“Feels wrong,” Logan says, his hand drifting toward his jacket.
“It does. There should be security patrolling.” I scan the shadows, every nerve on alert. “Stay sharp.”
We park near the front entrance and step out. The night air is cold, carrying the scent of damp earth and roses. Footsteps crunch against gravel as we approach the massive double doors.
“Where is everyone?” Logan murmurs. “Staff, security...”
“I don't know.” My skin prickles with unease. The house should be buzzing with activity. Instead, it feels hollow. Abandoned.
We climb the steps. I raise my hand to knock.
The blow comes from behind. A sharp explosion of pain at the base of my skull. The world tilts, colors bleeding into darkness.
“Logan!” I try to shout, but my voice is swallowed by the rushing black.
I hear him curse, the scuffle of boots on gravel, a muffled thud. Then nothing.
Darkness swallows me whole.