Cyrus’s dark brows lowered overblack eyes. “Or what.”
“Or I’ll take this toThe Daily Gab.They’ll print anything. And I’m sure Stefan will relish the opportunity to take you down.”
“I’ll sue them for libel.”
“The Alistairs have deep pockets. And by that point, the story will already be out there. It might be enough to get some enterprising young investigators to dig into an old case. I happen to have a few in mind.” I didn’t, but it wouldn’t be hard to find some. True crime podcasters were all the rage, and they’d latch on to this story in a heartbeat.
Cyrus gnashed his molars together. “You really want this kind of scandal right before a vote? At the tail end of your first year as CEO? You may have dodged a bullet with keeping your broken engagement under wraps—clever, by the way. But this will tank the stocks and the shareholders will have your head on a platter.”
“If it means you go down with me, I’ll do it.”And I will do whatever it takes to win Val back.Because destroying what remained of my family and its fortune, I could handle. But losing Val forever? Unacceptable.In every vision of my future I’d had over the past month, Val was beside me.
My eyes bored into Cyrus’s, unblinking. I wanted to throttle him for allowing his narcissism and greed to deprive me and my brothers of a life with our mother. He deserved everything that was coming to him, and then some.
After an interminable moment, Cyrus let out a growl. “Yes, all right? Yes. Various buyers have been approaching us about Hale’s Peak ever since we built it, but Arthur never wanted to sell. Back then, I had a buyer set up, but I was working through Robert so it couldn’t be traced back to me. Arthur was still the CEO, and I didn’t want to risk my job by openly moving against him. So Robert and I came up with a plan to orchestrate a ski lift accident.
“It was just supposed to be a few loose bolts. Just a close enough call to scare people off and show Arthur the resort was too much of a liability. Nobody was supposed to get hurt—least of all Tamara. There was a high wind advisory that day with gusts over forty miles per hour, and it’s the only reason the chair broke off the lift. It was easy to get the whole thing ruled as a freak accident, especially with no witnesses and no evidence to the contrary.” Cyrus rubbed a hand over his face. “But I loved your mother, and it crushed me that I was the reason she was dead. Fucking Robert and Jason too.”
At Cyrus’s molten glare, Robert shifted in his seat, but Jason sat in a stone-cold silence.
But Cyrus continued as if the two of them weren’t there. “That’s why Robert’s never made a name for himself. Erica is as close as he’ll ever get to any kind of fame since I can’t outright murder the bastard—that would get back to me. But I can make sure he never accomplishes anything for the rest of his miserable life. And Jason, I assured he was doomed to only work small jobs for our family. He’s blacklisted everywhere else. We have him by the balls. Keep your enemies closer, and all that.”
Finished, Cyrus sat back and showed me his palms. “So there’s your truth, Nolan. What are you going to do with it?”
I’d known I was right, but hearing it from him directly had my blood boiling.How could one man be so fucking selfish?
“You’re right,” I said. “I don’t have enough proof to get you convicted. I do, however, have a video I’ve just recorded of this entire conversation”—I pointed to the hidden security camera with state-of-the-art, crystal-clear audio receptors mounted in the top corner of the room—“so it’s enough to ruin all of you, even though the recording won’t hold up in court. The internet doesn’t much care about that.”
It wasn’t the justice my mother deserved, but it was the best I could do. For the first time tonight, my father looked genuinely afraid. Jason’s toothpick had ground into shrapnel between his teeth, and Robert, the spineless jellyfish that he was, looked petrified.
My father’s lips thinned with barely restrained fury. “Name your price.”
“Jason and Robert, you’re both to leave town immediately. As added incentive, I’ve instructed some of Cressida’s media contacts to publish damning stories about how you’ve swindled your clients and abandoned the city. Probably not too far from the truth, am I right?” At their shifty looks, I savored the triumphant feeling buzzing in my chest. “If I catch a whiff of either of you anywhere near any of my circles, I’ll use every resource at my disposal to pick you apart piece by piece until you have nothing left.”
Then I turned to my father, who watched me with narrowed eyes. “And Cyrus, you’ll retire from your position as CFO, effective immediately. You’ll go to some faraway island where I never have to see your fucking face again. And you will personally tell Arthur and my brothers about what you’ve done. You’ll also sway the board to approve my proposal and withdraw your competing offer.”
“I can’t tell the board what to do. They still have to approve by a majority.”
“You will persuade them.” I knew he had pull with the old fuddy-duddies on the board. They could always vote to sell the place to another buyer, but lining up a new sale would take time, and my plan could be put into action right away—once I hammered out all the details. I was still waiting on a few things to fall into place.
“Do we understand each other?” I gave each man at the table a loaded glance filled with all the menace I could muster. It wasn’tdifficult—these assholes should all be wearing concrete boots and sinking to the bottom of the bay right now. I was letting them off easy. I waited until I received a verbal “yes” from each of them.
“Good. Now get the fuck out.”
Chapter 32
VAL
“Anywordyet?”askedFrankie as she wiped a pint glass and stacked it behind the bar.
I shook my head, scrolling through the business news headlines for the tenth time in as many minutes. “Not yet.” But therewasa photo of me and Anton cozied up by the fire accompanied by a silly headline. As long as the gossip columns weren’t talking about my relationship with Nolan, I didn’t care what they cooked up about me and Anton.
Well. All right. That wasn’t strictly true.
This week, Diego had texted saying that some reporters had shown up to his apartment looking for me, but he’d chased them off. Anton had warned me the paparazzi could be ruthless, and I feared this was only the beginning. I’d already deleted all social media presence to avoid the trolls, but some had taken to harassing Frankie and Hugh. Mr. Huxby had to up security on property too, to keep the flocking camera crews at bay.
But this is what I wanted.Sort of. I knew the price of going public with Anton, and it was serving as an excellent distraction for the media—possibly too excellent. But Cressida assured me the tabloids would move on if I could hang on for another month or two.
“Maybe Nolan decided not to go through with selling Hale’s Peak,” Frankie noted.
