All In (34 page)

47

 

A
lexander had scarcely had a chance to leave Sweden behind before he was summoned back again. He'd stood in this same passport-control line at Arlanda airport less than two weeks earlier. He'd just started to get over his jet lag back home in New York, but now here he was again, tired and hungover. Ordered home by his father. He didn't usually obey when he could avoid it, but Alex was curious about what was going on. The family business was in danger? Was that even possible? The thought was strangely exciting. Almost liberating.

Alexander picked up his bags from the baggage-claim carousel and sauntered through customs out into the arrivals hall, heading for the line of taxis outside. The tabloids screamed their headlines. He hopped into a cab, but then realized he had no idea where he was going to stay. He couldn't bear to stay with his parents. Hmm. Maybe he ought to buy a place here after all? Say what you will, but Stockholm was beautiful in the summertime. “Take me to Hotel Diplomat,” he finally told the driver.

He fingered his phone. He ought to call Natalia; this must be really hard for her. David Hammar, whom she'd seemed so fond of, was picking a fight with Investum. He glanced out the window. The question was, what the hell was going on? And whether he could be bothered to care about it.

48

 

D
avid studied the sculpture towering in front of him. He wasn't particularly interested in art, and he didn't really understand sculpture as a medium at all. But Carolina was walking around it looking enraptured, so he kept his thoughts to himself and nodded as enthusiastically as he could each time she looked his way.

Carolina had always been interested in art, culture, and other creative expressions, and he knew that those interests were probably what had saved her from losing her mind, so every time they saw each other, he made sure to take her to a museum or an exhibit. It was fun for him, too, although baffling.

There were a lot of people at the exhibit, and he noticed Carolina happen to bump into a man. He stiffened, ready to leap to her rescue. But Carolina just apologized with a smile, without looking afraid, without blanching. David exhaled and relaxed a little.

For so many years, going out in public had downright terrified Caro. He wondered if he would ever get used to her not being as fragile as before.

She came over to him with a smile. The exhibit was outdoors, and the breeze ruffled her hair. She smiled, and there were laugh lines at the corners of her eyes. She lived by the sea and loved the outdoors, the sun and the wind. “You don't look as agonized as usual,” she said, putting a hand on his arm. “Do I dare hope you're actually enjoying this exhibit?”

“There's nothing I love as much as staring at naked statues,” he said. Then he added, “You look happy.”

Carolina squeezed his arm. “I feel good,” she said. “I know you worry, but it's true. Someday you're going to have to start believing me.”

Caro was right, David realized, dismayed. She actually looked robust. For so many years, he'd worried about her, been so preoccupied with trying to do right by her that he hadn't taken the time to stop and see what was increasingly obvious: Caro was thirty-two and doing great. She was practically radiant.

“Now don't be mad at me,” she said, “but I'm thinking about finding some cozy hotel to stay at for the rest of my time in Stockholm.” She bit her lower lip and watched him carefully, as if to see what his reaction would be.

“But why?” he asked. Obviously she was free to do as she liked, but this came out of nowhere. “I thought you were happy at my place,” he said, feeling a little guilty.

“Really?” Caro said with a smile. “And what are you basing that on? Given that you're never home, I mean.” She was still smiling, as if to take the edge off her criticism, but she was right. He'd been neglecting her.

“Your apartment is great, but I'm way too old to stay with my brother. No, my mind's made up. Actually, I already called and booked a room,” she said, looking satisfied.

“Okay,” David said, still caught a little off guard by this turn of events. Carolina had never been particularly impulsive, nor independent either. She'd always relied on him, let him make the decisions. He supposed he'd just instinctively viewed her as fragile, but here she stood, radiating self-confidence and authoritativeness,
deciding
things without consulting him. Like any grown woman.

“But if you're going to stay at a hotel, you're going to need some form of bodyguard or security,” he said, because Caro wasn't just any woman, and he had to consider what was most important: her safety. “I'll talk to our security firm about that.”

“You don't think that's a little extreme?” she asked, her head cocked to the side, her long earrings dangling against her cheek.

“If anything were to happen to you, Caro . . .”

She squeezed his arm. “David, you can't protect me from life.”

“You know what I mean,” he said, and his guilty conscience for feeling relief at having his apartment to himself made his voice a little sharp. “I don't like this. I'm sorry you've been feeling neglected,” he added.

But apart from feeling ashamed that he hadn't really made time for her, Carolina was right. They were adults with their own habits.

And after Natalia had spent the night at his place . . .

The fact was that David had a hard time having anyone else there.

Carolina squinted up at a narrow sculpture. “And since we're talking about this anyway, I've actually been thinking about buying myself a place here.”

He stopped and looked at her. This was news to him. “In Sweden?” he asked.

“Yes,” she nodded. “In Stockholm. I love Stockholm. I remember how we used to go into the city when we were little. Stockholm still feels like home.”

David wasn't sure he liked that idea. The risk of her running into Peter or Gustaf was much too great. She might seem happy and healthy now, but what would happen if she ran into Peter, the man who'd injured her so badly?

“I thought you were happy in Denmark,” he said. “You've always said you love living by the sea.”

As a fifteen-year-old she'd lived in a residential treatment center, of course, but then the years had passed and she'd stayed, and the foreign country and the ocean had done her good. Now she lived in a house David had bought her, with a view of the sea and an enormous studio. It was in the middle of nowhere and windy, but she'd always loved it.

“I do. But I can have two homes, can't I?” She stopped in front of a sculpture of a bird with outstretched wings. “I like this one,” she said, studying its slender lines for a long time. “I met my accountant last week. We looked over my assets together. I've got plenty of money, so I should be able to afford this.” She gave him a broad smile.

He'd managed her finances for many years, bought stocks, invested, transferred over as much as he could, always worrying about her well-being. He'd grown up constantly on guard lest something should happen to him or her; all his plans had been about making their investments as safe as possible. And that had paid off. Caro was financially independent.

“I have to say, it's handy to have a brother who's a financial genius,” she said gently. “Both my accountant and I were very impressed.”

She walked on, her long skirt swishing around her feet.

A Carolina who met accountants, booked hotel rooms, and made financial decisions on her own. David was at a loss. When had this happened?

“I can contact a real estate agent I know,” he said when he'd caught up to her. But he was fighting his distaste for the idea. How could he protect her if she was in Stockholm?

“You're a real mother hen,” she said. She ran her hand over a pedestal, read the inscription, and then looked at David. She was smiling. “You know Mom would have been proud of you, right?”

I doubt that
.

Caro had always thought highly of him, David knew that. But Helena hadn't. Mostly his mother had been hugely disappointed in him. She had thought David let the family down, over and over again, that he was selfish and irresponsible. And she had been right, of course. If he'd taken better care of his family, a lot of things would have been different.

“You're my sister,” was all he said. “I want you to be happy.”

Carolina moved on to the next sculpture. He followed.

“I heard that you saw Dad,” she said after a bit.

“Yes,” he said uncomfortably. Thinking about the unexpected—unwanted—visit still left a bad taste in his mouth. “Carl-Erik come to the office, completely uninvited.”

Carolina shook her head. “David, it's okay to reconcile with him, you know. He's still your father.”

“I didn't know you two were in touch with each other.” David's voice was chillier than he would have liked, but he couldn't help it.

Carolina gave him a mildly reproachful look. “He came to see me in Denmark a few times. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I knew you wouldn't be happy.” She watched him with her big, blue-gray eyes, so like his own. And with a shock, David realized that both of them had inherited Carl-Erik's eyes. It had never occurred to him before.

“You know he's the one who paid for me to run away to Denmark, right? He paid for the treatment center. Mom let him do that.”

“I didn't know that,” David replied resolutely. But he had wondered how there had been money for Caro's treatment. His mother had never talked about where she'd gotten the money. Had he suspected, on some subconscious level, that their father had chipped in? Maybe. But did that mean he had to respect the count for that? Hardly.

“It's going to take me some time,” he mumbled, well aware that that was a lie. He would
never
reconcile with the count, no matter how much coffee the man drank with Carolina. No matter how much money he provided.

“If Mom were alive, she would be so incredibly mad that we'd seen him,” Carolina continued. “You always had to choose sides with her.” She brushed her blond hair out of her face and tipped her head. “Did you know that he tried to contact us, but that Mom stopped him? He wrote to us every week, but Mom sent the letters back. He still has them. Mom could be very black or white.”

David looked at his sister in astonishment. They almost never discussed the past and rarely their mother. He'd just assumed that they felt the same way about their parents.

“I never thought about Mom like that,” he said, realizing that he'd never had a single negative thought about his mother. In his world she had never been anything other than good, which was strange, actually. No one was ever completely good.

“No, you and Mom had a totally different relationship,” Carolina said. “With a ton of guilt and blame. I went to therapy, you know. You learn a lot about yourself. That first year was really tough.” She let one of her colorful necklaces slide through her fingers and took on a vacant look for a moment. “But then things turned around. They were wonderful down there. They left me alone when I wanted it, talked when I needed it. And they taught me so much. The therapy saved me.” She smiled, a little apologetically. “It must have been expensive. I didn't realize it at all, but, David, Dad said you took over all the bills after Mom died, that you took over all the responsibility. You must have really struggled to be able to afford everything you did for me, everything you gave me.” Her eyes got misty.

David shook his head. Of course he'd prioritized her well-being. He loved her. But he knew that some of his behavior toward Carolina would always be driven by feelings of guilt. If he'd stayed home that night, if he hadn't provoked Peter De la Grip and the other boys. If he'd been a better person, a less selfish person, then nothing would have happened to Carolina.

“David?”

“It's fine,” he said dismissively. They were so close to each other; they only had one another, and yet they knew so little about each other's innermost thoughts and feelings. Carolina was a grown woman. Of course he'd known that, but in some way he'd always regarded her as the frail, traumatized teenager who'd been hurriedly sent abroad. But the woman standing in front of him today was mature and self-confident, and laughed often. No matter how he looked, he didn't see any traces of the things he'd always associated with her.

“I'm just so glad you're doing better,” he said genuinely. Maybe it was time to start seeing Carolina as an individual, not as a victim. Weird that he'd never had that thought before.

“And of course you can hang out with Carl-Erik if you want to,” he added, almost meaning it. “And in a few days, all this other stuff will be over, and then there won't be an Investum anymore, and they'll have received their punishment.”

“Punishment?” Carolina said with a sharp crease in her brow. “What are you talking about? For whom?”

He could hardly bring himself to say their names to her. “Peter and Gustaf De la Grip,” he said as concisely as he could.

She gave him a serious look. Her earrings and necklace sparkled in the sun. She'd always loved colorful things. “Is
that
what all this is about?” she asked, and he'd never heard her sound like that, accusatory.

“Of course, what did you think?”

“I didn't think anything, David,” she said, her voice sharp. “Since you didn't tell me anything. And when you talked about Investum and my shares, when it came up in the newspapers, I thought it was all about good business, some deal that made good sense here and now. Not some kind of plan for revenge. Is that what you're up to? Vengeance?”

He couldn't believe Caro was criticizing him. “I had to. What they did to you . . .”

“But that stuff happened a really long time ago,” she said. “It
was
awful,” she said, but her voice didn't tremble at all. “I've spent my whole life putting it behind me, working through it. I'm over it,” she said. “People can do that. I'm over it, and I hardly ever think about it. You can't start mucking around with that; you can't let the past decide. David? Is that what you're up to?” Carolina furrowed her brow. “Why?”

“Why?” he burst out. “
Why
? You can't be serious.”

“Of course I'm serious.” She put her hand on his arm and looked him right in the eye, seriously and in a very, very grown-up way. “You've made so many sacrifices already, tell me this isn't all about revenge.”

“Not entirely,” he said. Carolina had never ever questioned him, and the whole situation felt goddamned uncomfortable.

Carolina crossed her arms in front of her. “What about Natalia De la Grip then?”

“What about her?” Caro was his sister, but there were lines not even she had the right to cross. His relationship with Natalia was none of her business. He gave her a warning look.