One Woman Read online

  I do, but I’m going to make him say what we’ve talked around, a once mutual need to hurt the Knight family, that I no longer share. “Why exactly is she a problem for you?”

  “You’re with my brand or theirs. The end. And you can’t be with my brand in her bed unless you’re using her to destroy her brand.”

  I open my mouth to tell him that I’m not trying to destroy the Knights, but he is, and that’s now a problem for me. Keep your enemies closer. He’s the enemy. “Losing my business doesn’t destroy them,” I comment, stating the obvious. “I need them if I don’t have you. I have yet to hear you commit to me or provide me with an end game.”

  “Because you have yet to prove to me that I can trust you.” His phone starts ringing in his hand. “I’ll be at the festival. Invitation accepted.” He steps around me and heads for the door.

  I rotate and watch him exit, shutting the doors behind him once he’s gone, holding them as I contemplate my next move.

  I can’t walk away from Sawyer until I know his plan to hurt the Knight empire. I can’t walk away from him until I know Emma’s brother doesn’t plan to hurt the North empire. Losing that business would hurt our core business. Unless—

  An idea hits me and I push off the door. I know Chance has smartly aligned himself with Grayson Bennett’s investment pool, two hotel brands partnering for a future that might lead to a merger, or Bennett buying out the Knight brand. I’m now a part of that investment pool, and my brand is already all over the Bennett brand.

  There’s a way to make this work.

  There’s a way to strip Chance of his power and take it for myself.

  No.

  For Emma.

  This is no longer about me. It’s about her. It’s about us.

  Which is why I need to tread cautiously. I need to know if Chance is dirty. That means I set a trap for Chance, and if he takes the bait, I’ll know to make my move.

  I pull my phone from my pocket to do just that: set a trap.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Emma…

  I don’t know how long I stand in Jax’s closet, staring at his clothes and imagining mine there with his. I don’t even know how we make that possible. I live in San Francisco. He lives here. We’re enemies by birthright; we were always going to be temporary, but as I run my hand over his suit jackets and inhale the scent of him everywhere around me, I start to consider ways it might work.

  By the time I’m in the marvelous kitchen that was once his mothers, I have so many thoughts and emotions. She left him when he was a young teen. In my youth, my mother was the consummate mom; she lived to parent, and my father seemed like the perfect father. I now know there was nothing perfect about my life. Is it better to know the truth as a young child or when you’re an adult as I am now? I don’t know the answer to that question. I only know that Jax is so many things that he doesn’t appear on the outside, and I want to know every part of him.

  With coffee in hand and that mission in mind, I walk into the stunning living room, with leather furnishings, and find the double patio doors. Once outside, the chill of the fall washes over me, but I don’t run for the coat I packed. I embrace the season, eager to view the castle’s grounds in the daylight. I step to the wide white railing, staring out at the ocean that is, indeed, right below us, jolting me with memories that I don’t want to entertain right now. I swallow hard at the sight of the rocks where I might have tumbled last night, where Jax’s brother most certainly died. Bile rises in my throat. How can I live here? I can’t fall in love with a man who believes my family killed his brother.

  Love.

  I’m falling in love.

  I’m probably already in love.

  Suddenly, everything between our families that remains unanswered becomes bigger than just moments before. I’m suffocating in the sins of my father. What did he do? Why did he want this castle so badly? I hurry inside, shut the doors, and rush back to the kitchen where I left my phone. The display on my cellphone has a missed call from my brother. I set my cup down and hit redial.

  “Little Sis,” he says. “Is he laying in the bed next to you? Is that where we’re at now?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly where we’re at, but I’m alone right now. Why do you want the castle?”

  “I told you—”

  “A lie,” I bite out, clear anger in my tone. Because I am angry. I’m really damn angry. “Tell me the truth.”

  “Emma—”

  “Chance, damn it. Dad didn’t tell you to buy this castle and not tell you why. I’m not stupid.”

  “You’re at the castle?”

  “You knew I was coming here with Jax.”

  “I did not know that, Emma.”

  “Dad didn’t tell you to buy the castle and not give you a reason,” I repeat.

  “And yet, he did. I can’t believe this. I was right, and I wanted to be wrong. He’s turning you against us.”

  “Dad’s journals, Chance. I have them. Remember? And they are not a pleasant read.”

  He’s silent another hard pause. “I need those journals. They’re fucking with your head.”

  “And I need answers to the many questions they present,” I counter.

  “Do not talk about those journals with Jax. I’m serious about this. I mean why the fuck are you there?”

  “He matters to me.”

  “He matters to you?” he demands in disbelief, giving off a bark of laughter “Don’t be such a chick, Emma. You just met him.”

  “He matters to me, Chance. Which is why I need you to talk to me and help me put this behind us. He’s not the enemy.”

  “He is. He hates us. I don’t want you there.”

  “He doesn’t hate us,” I say. “Maybe dad, but not us.”

  “Emma—”

  “No. I’m not coming back. In fact, I’m going to leave for Germany from here. You’ll have to wait on the journals, and I suspect you know what’s in them anyway. Damn it, Chance. What are you doing?”

  “I didn’t do anything. And I had no control over dad. But protecting us, that’s my job, as a brother and the CEO of this company.”

  “Protect me by telling me the truth.”

  “Protect us by getting the hell out of there. Take the weekend. Fuck him out of your system and come home. I’m not playing with you. Don’t make me come and get you. I love you, Emma. I will come and get you to protect you and us. I need to go. I have a meeting I’m fucking walking into that I can’t miss.”

  “Chance,” I whisper.

  “Whatever you think you know, it’s wrong. I promise you.” He hangs up.

  Whatever I think I know is wrong. I know my brother. That wasn’t a lie. This is worse than what I assumed it to be and that terrifies me. I think of that list of people dad had investigated, all ones who do business with North. What was that about anyway? What was he trying to do? And God, what is in that envelope that was left for me? What if it proves my family killed Hunter? Jax thinks he can live with that, but we both know he can’t. My mind goes to the journal, and I shove my phone into my pants pocket, dashing for the bedroom.

  Once I’m there, my gaze lingers on the bed, on his bed, where we fucked, slept, and even made love, at least in my mind, last night. These memories drive me further on my current mission: to grab that journal and find my answers. I hurry forward and enter the bathroom, dropping to my knees beside the suitcase. I dig through my belongings and search for the accordion file. Once it’s in my hand, I reach inside and locate the journal.

  Sinking down on the floor, I lean on the clawfoot tub and flip to a random page, looking for anything I’ve missed. Looking for what my brother fears Jax will read. Page after page, I flip until one passage catches my attention.

  In life, there is death. In family, there is power and weakness. I never thought family could be a weakness. I wanted my family to be the ultimate power. Emma, of course, is young and a female; therefore, she will surrender
when faced with the kind of challenges we now face. A male heir won’t surrender. It’s instinct. It’s second nature to fight. It’s my role to control the battles, to teach the way of the land.

  I swallow hard with the confirmation that he believed me to be weak. I knew. Of course, I knew, but reading it in his own words is a hard pill to swallow. Glutton for punishment, I scan through a few more paragraphs and go cold with another passage. It’s a poem credited to Dan Brown, titled “A Note On Suicide.” I start to read it, my stomach knotting with each word:

  It isn’t brave, and it isn’t clever,

  to inflict pain on other people forever.

  Life isn’t all about you.

  Your life isn’t all about you.

  That rope hangs your family too,

  and those pills kill your friends.

  It goes on, but I stop there. If Jax sees this, it will gut him. It will hurt him. It will cut him. He will bleed. I’m bleeding for him now. This is not an innocent poem. I swallow the cotton in my throat and try to breathe. Suddenly, I just need to breathe. I need air. I grab the lightweight jacket I brought with me and pull it on, hurrying toward the bedroom. I need to think. I need to figure out what to do now. What do I even say to Jax? I need to think before he gets back. I need to think before he returns.

  I rush through the castle, and I hurry down the stairs, desperate to get out of the confinement of these walls. Desperate to escape the place where Hunter died, perhaps at my father’s hand. I’m suffocating in my father’s crimes. I all but trip on my way downstairs to the back door, but once I’m there, I yank open the door and explode into the chilly morning air.

  When I’m outside, I find myself in the center of an atrium and right in front of me is a set of concrete steps. I hurry down the stairs and find myself walking toward the ocean, saltwater lifting in the air and falling on my lips and tongue. The same way it had last night on that landing, but I don’t let myself fall down that rabbit hole. I love the ocean, and the way it seems to speak with every crashing wave. I need it to speak to me. I need it to tell me what happened here and how to make this right.

  My father wanted this castle. My brother wants this castle. This is where Hunter died. This is where he was murdered because I now believe Jax and Brody are right; I believe Hunter was murdered.

  I start replaying the journal entries, looking for answers, and when I look up, I’m at a dead end. I can see the ocean below, but I can’t get to it. A sound behind me jolts me, and heart lurching, I whirl around as a bird flies out of a bush. I let out a breath of momentary relief followed by unease. It feels like I’m not alone anymore.

  I wasn’t worried about taking a walk in broad daylight, not when Brody’s been removed from the property and Savage’s team is here. And, of course, my family seems to be the villain of this story, but my brother wouldn’t hurt me. However, there was that list of everyone my father had investigated. I have no idea what my father did to those people. None of us know what’s really going on. This walk was like trusting my father: foolish.

  I pull my phone from my pocket to call Jax, but I find no signal. I need to go back to the castle and do so now.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Jax….

  I make the call, and when I hang up, I do so with the certainty that I’ve done what has to be done. I’ve protected my family. I’ve protected Emma. I text Savage: I need to see you. Meet me at my tower. I wait for a reply that doesn’t come, and decide with Savage there’s no telling what he’ll do and when he’ll do it; he may just show up there. Pocketing my phone, exit the library, and head back to the front of the office, where I find the man himself arguing with Jill.

  “You can’t just put cameras up wherever you please,” Jill argues. “This is a historic structure.”

  “Not much of a history buff there, ma’am,” he says. “I live in the present year of 2019. And in 2019, you don’t have an army to guard this castle. You have me. We’re putting up the cameras.”

  It’s then that Jill notices my approach and turns her appeal on me. “He wants to put up cameras.”

  “Then let him put up cameras,” I say.

  “The structure—”

  Savage cuts her off. “Will be just fine. We aren’t two-year-olds playing with hammers. We’re men. Real fucking men who know how to get the job done, no matter what that job may be. And you, woman, need to back off and let me be a damn man.”

  “Do you know how arrogant and caveman-like that sounds?”

  “Ask me if I fucking care.”

  Jill looks at me. “Are you going to let him talk to me like that?”

  I glance at Savage, a message in my look. He scrubs his jaw. “I’m sorry for cursing, but we’re putting up the fucking cameras. Now.” He grabs a walkie-talkie on his belt. “You have cellphone coverage issues out here, too,” he replies. “Another reason for the cameras, of which we have many this morning alone. Are we a go?”

  “Yes,” I say, which draws a scowl and a sound of disgust from Jill.

  Savage calls in his men. “Let’s get this done,” he says, returning the walkie-talkie to his belt and eyeing me. “You needed to talk?”

  I glance at Jill. “Whatever you need for the festival, email me.” I motion to the door and start to turn when Jill says, “I need you to talk to the customers who normally come but aren’t this year.”

  I halt, that list Emma found of our customers jolting into my mind. “Get me the list.”

  “I will. There are too many of them. It feels off. I know you’ve made investments that have paid off, but this is still our core business. I don’t want to lose it.”

  “We won’t,” I assure her. “I have this under control.”

  “Is that why she’s here? To ensure we keep that business.”

  That hits ten nerves in one blow. “Emma doesn’t control the hotel brand, and if there’s anything you should know about me, it’s that I don’t use people.” I motion to Savage and start for the door.

  “Jax!” Jill calls out. “Jax, I’m sorry!” I stop walking, Savage with me, my jaw clenching with the rollercoaster ride of trust and distrust that is this woman. “I’m sorry,” she says again, softer this time. “I know that’s not who you are.”

  Savage cuts me a disbelieving look, his position on Jill quite clear. His ride isn’t a rollercoaster at all. It’s a straight, smooth line of distrust that I cannot dismiss. Not when that’s where my gut leans. I glance over my shoulder at her. “Get me the list, Jill. Sooner rather than later.”

  “Right away,” she says, and with that, Savage opens the door, and we exit the castle.

  A series of greetings from the staff follow, and it takes a full five minutes for Savage and me to reach the trail that leads to my private tower entrance. “Can you try not being such an ass to Jill, Savage?” I ask.

  “I don’t trust her. I don’t like her. I have reason for that assessment we can cover. And for the record, my team already has the guest list from last year as well as the guest list for this weekend. The people Emma’s father investigated, declined, if that’s where your head is at.”

  I stop walking and turn to face him. “We already knew that list led no place good, but what the hell was Emma’s father up to?”

  “We’re already working on an answer to that question,” Savage says. “But it appears he was stripping your business. I’d guess to make you dependent on him.”

  “To force my brother to sell,” I assume, and because I need a place to put the anger blasting through me, I turn and start walking.

  Savage falls into step with me. “The question now is—did Emma’s brother pick up where her father left off?”

  “Which is why I just set a trap he won’t be able to resist,” I say, as we cut left down another trail.

  “A trap for a rat,” he says. “Tell me more.”

  “After you tell me about that envelope.”

  “It was empty,” he says and that
has me stopping and looking at him. “Empty? What the hell?”

  “Either someone wanted to fuck with you or someone took what was inside before you and Emma saw it. How many people know your cameras are down?”

  “Everyone.”

  “Then let’s keep it that way,” he says, settling his hands on his hips. “We can make it look like the wiring doesn’t work when it does. You’ll still be lights out to the naked eye, but we’ll have the cameras rolling.”

  “If you can even get power to this tower.”

  “You underestimate us if you think we can’t get power to the tower.”

  “We’ll see,” I say.

  “Yes. You will see,” he counters. “Now, are you going to tell me about the trap before or after we walk inside with Emma?”

  A loud slamming rips through the air that sounds like my front door being forcibly shut. “Emma,” I say, and take off running with Savage by my side.

  By the time we’re in my patio area again, the wind catches the cracked door, opens it and slams it shut. A knife might as well be slicing my heart open. Emma is in there. Emma could be hurt. Savage draws his weapon. “Stay here.”

  “Not a chance in hell.”

  He’s already kicking in the door and entering the tower. I’m right on his heels. “The elevator doesn’t work!” I call out, and he launches himself up the stairs. The next three minutes fade into slow motion. Savage heads to the bedroom, and I follow, certain that’s where I’ll find Emma, but she’s not there. Savage exits the bathroom and heads toward the rest of the house. I linger and search Emma’s suitcase and find her coat missing. She left. Fuck. She left, but was it by choice?

  Remembering her comment about exploring is a small comfort with the front door standing open; I take off running, seeking out Savage. I find him in the living room. “She’s not here, and there are no signs of a struggle. Did you leave the patio doors open?”

  “It was shut when I left. She could be outside exploring. Her coat’s missing. I’m going to look for her.”

  He moves with me and speaks into his walkie-talkie. “I need eyes on Emma Knight now. Find her. Report. Confirm her safety. Now.”