Seven
Gideon inhaled as he entered his mother’s Lincoln Park home, and the sense of calm that always settled on him when he was with his family wrapped around him like a warm embrace.
Though his mother and sister had lived in the six-bedroom, seven-bathroom home for only four years, it was home because they were there. It was as much his sanctuary as his own downtown Chicago condominium.As the sound of his mother and Pat Benatar singing about love being a battlefield on her ever-present radio reached him, he shook his head, amending his thought. No, it wasmoreof a haven for him.
Because family waseverything.
Striding past the formal living and dining rooms with their soaring twelve-foot ceilings, and the sweeping, curving staircase, he headed toward the rear of thehouse. His mother might have initially balked at him purchasing this home for her and Olivia in one of Chicago’s wealthiest neighborhoods, but there’d never been any doubt about how much she adored the airy, state-of-the-art kitchen. With its wall of windows, restaurant-style ranges and cooktops, top-of-the-line appliances, large marble island and butcher block and dual workhorse sinks, Ai had instantlyfallen in love. And it was in this room that he usually found her.
Like now.
Ai stood at the stove, still clothed in her professor outfit—elegant gray pantsuit with crimson blouse and hair in a loose bun at the nape of her neck—and barefoot. Her slim body swayed back and forth to the eighties’ rock anthem, and Gideon stifled a snort as she perfectly executed an arm-and-hip dance move herecognized from the classic MTV video.
He gave her a slow clap.
She whirled around with a gasp, brandishing a tea strainer like a club. “Gideon,” she scolded, splaying the fingers of her free hand over her chest. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” She replaced the strainer in the waiting cup of steaming water and shot him a look over her shoulder. “I warn you, if I go, all ofmy money has been left to your grandmother’s Maltese puppy.”
Chuckling, he crossed the room and pulled his mother into a hug. Her familiar scent of gardenias greeted him like a childhood friend. Only with his family could he be Gideon Jian Knight, the oldest son of Ai Knight, former cafeteria worker who busted her ass to provide for her children and earn her PhD in educational studies at thesame time. With them, he could lower the guards he’d erected between him and the rest of the world, especially those who greedily grasped for money, connections, time or sex from Gideon Knight, CEO of KayCee Corp.
He jealously guarded his moments with his family.
Zealously protectedthem.
“That’s fine,” he assured her, with a quick kiss to her forehead. “I have the very best legaldepartment, and they would be capable of breaking that will.” He smiled as she swatted at him. But then he noted the two cups on the gleaming countertop, and his amusement faded. “How is she?” he murmured.
The light in his mother’s eyes dimmed. “Better,” she answered. She sighed, turning back to preparing the hot tea. “She’s still sleeping more than I like and hasn’t left the house since cominghome from the hospital a week and a half ago. But...better.” She checked the strainer in the second cup. “I was just about to take this up and sit with her for a while.”
“I can do that, Mom. You obviously just arrived home.” She didn’t have to continue to work as a social sciences and history professor at the University of Chicago. He was more than willing to provide for her, as she’d donefor him and Olivia. But Ai Knight wouldn’t hear of it, and Gideon was proud to have one of the most loved professors at U of C as his mother. “Go upstairs, relax and I’ll take care of Livvie.”
“Thank you.” She turned, smiling softly and extending her hands toward him. He enfolded hers in his, squeezing them. “But no, I want to spend some time with her before I grade papers. Although she alwaysloves to hear you play. Maybe you could bring your guitar by sometime this week.”
“I’ll do that,” he agreed.
His mother had been responsible for him first picking up the instrument. She’d found a battered acoustic Fender at a garage sale, and from the second he’d held it, he’d been enamored. Though extra money had been almost nonexistent during his childhood, she’d still found a way topay for lessons. No one outside the family had ever heard him play, because it was for him. His peace. His way to lose himself and get away from the stresses of running a multimillion-dollar tech company.
Ai cupped his cheek, giving it an affectionate pat before lowering her arm. “Now, not that I don’t enjoy you dropping by, but is everything okay?”
“Yes. There’s something I do need tospeak with you about, though.” He propped a hip against the island and crossed his arms over his chest.
She studied him, then nodded, copying his pose. “Okay. What’s going on?”
“I had a...business meeting last night,” he said. “With Shay Neal. Trevor Neal’s sister.”
Surprise widened his mother’s eyes. “I didn’t even know he had a sister,” she whispered, then shook her head. “Why, Gideon?What could you possibly have to discuss with her?”
“Our common interest,” he said. “Her brother.”
“Gideon,” she murmured, tilting her head to the side. “What did you do?”
Meeting his mother’s gaze, he relayed his conversation with Shay, including his revelation of all he’d dug up on Trevor, the ultimatum he’d delivered and her refusal to give him an answer.
“What are you thinking,son?” she asked, worry crowding her gaze. “She’s innocent in all this.”
Innocent. His fingers curled around his biceps, tightening even as blood pumped hot and fast through his body.Innocentwas one word he wouldn’t have associated with Shay Neal.
He’d done his homework on her before ambushing her at the restaurant. Twenty-five years old. Graduated with honors from Loyola University’sQuinlan School of Business with a bachelor’s in finance and entrepreneurship and a master of business administration. A member of Women in Business and International Business Society. Currently worked as vice president of the Social Development department at RemingtonNeal. And from what he could tell, the position was nothing but a fancy term for event coordinator, and definitely underutilized theeducation she’d received. All this information could be found on her social network platforms or the company’s website.
Only a deeper dive below the surface uncovered her ownership of Leida Investments. The degrees and obvious intelligence had made her interesting. But this—the company she owned in secrecy—fascinated him. This society princess who organized brunches and galas was a mysterywrapped in an enigma. And anything he couldn’t dissect and analyze he mistrusted. Tack onto that her last name, and he wouldn’t dare to blink around her, vigilant of the knife that might slide into his back in that flick of time.
