Magnate (Acquisition Series Book 2) (5 page)

Chapter Five

Stella

The jet ride
lasted a few hours, the sun already fading from the sky as we neared land. The dark waters of the Gulf retreated and a twinkle of lights sprouted along the horizon. New Orleans was ablaze, the city vibrant even from the air.

Neither Vinemont nor Lucius spoke to me or each other as they piloted the plane from the open cockpit. Despite the lack of words, the animosity between the brothers had grown into something almost palpable. It swirled around the cabin, making every moment strained. I smiled and relaxed back into my seat, enjoying the tension in both of their backs as they sat at the controls in front of me. Maybe tearing them apart wouldn’t be as difficult as I’d first imagined.

We landed at a private airfield outside the city and taxied over to a hangar. A driver waited out front next to a black limo. Once we came to a stop, Lucius stood and opened the hatch, letting the stairs down so we could exit. He held his hand out for me.

“Don’t touch her,” Vinemont growled.

“Fuck off.” Lucius didn’t waver.

I took his hand and stepped down, glad to be out of the tight cabin. The weather was chilly for Louisiana; winter was in full swing despite the high, bright sun.

The driver greeted me with a smile and opened the back door. I slid in as he went to help gather the bags and other items from the plane’s storage hatch. The car was running, and Christmas music was playing low on the radio. I almost laughed.
Merry Christmas to me
. Gallows humor had taken on a particular relevance for me in the past few months.

Even though I was here for the Acquisition trial, I was still glad to be back in the States. I allowed my thoughts to flit to my father for a split second before forcing them down. The last I’d heard he was in ICU. I hadn’t inquired any further. I couldn’t. Not after seeing his name on Vinemont’s contract. Had the hospital stay truly been a ruse as Vinemont suggested, or was my father ill? I shouldn’t have cared, but I did.

My eyes stung, the wound still fresh. He’d committed an unforgivable sin against me. Even so, I couldn’t wish for his destruction, no matter how much I wanted to. Too much of me was caught up in him, too many memories, too many years of relying on each other and surviving despite the weight of Mom’s death slowly crushing us. I blinked the unshed tears away and tilted my head up until they receded. I may not have wanted my father dead, but I’d be damned if I cried for him.

The car shook as the driver loaded up some belongings in the trunk. Vinemont slid in next to me and locked both of the back doors. Lucius stood outside and glared at his brother before climbing into the front passenger seat.

“Back to the house?” the driver asked.

“Yes, Luke.” Lucius kept me in his peripheral vision.

I edged away from Vinemont. He was still banged up, fresh bandages down his arms and angry red wounds along his neck. He was healing, but it would take time. He studied me, his eyes fixing on mine as he tapped his fingers on his knee. What could he be thinking after what he’d tried to do earlier that morning?

The memory of his hard body on top of mine sent a rush of heat spiraling through me. I’d been afraid at first, but then I’d become something more. Livid. I dared him to do it. I wanted him to take that last step, to seal his doom even further.

My body may have been fooled by him, desperate for his touch. My mind was anything but. I knew he couldn’t follow through. I knew he wanted me as more than just his Acquisition. His twisted heart had a glimmer of love left and I’d touched it, felt it. Now I would use it to break him.

Luke sped down the interstate, farther into the Louisiana countryside toward the Vinemont estate. Lucius kept glancing back like a chaperone insistent there would be no funny business on his watch. Vinemont said nothing, just continued studying me, as if he were dissecting me piece by piece to discover what particular magic made me tick.

The Christmas music persisted for the entire drive, telling us all to be joyful as we pulled up to the vine-covered gates and I entered enemy territory once again. It felt like a homecoming of sorts—the winding road, the secret bayous, and the familiar oaks. My eyes strayed above the tops of the trees to the dormer windows on the third floor. A light glowed into the night from one of them. Was Vinemont’s mother watching our approach?

We arrived at the house, the stately white façade and wide porch greeting us like always. The front door opened, and Farns and Renee appeared, both smiling as I got out and clambered up the steps.

Renee folded me in her arms and squeezed hard. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” I buried my face in her familiar jet black hair.

“Ms. Rousseau, so nice to see you again.” Farns gave a slight bow.

I smiled up into his weathered face. “Ever the gentleman.”

“Why, thank you. The house wasn’t the same without you.” His smile faltered, as if remembering I wasn’t exactly a willing guest. He covered by telling Luke he’d help with the bags, though he eased down the stairs with ginger steps.

Renee pulled her shawl tighter around her narrow shoulders. “Come in, come in. Too cold out here to be standing around.”

A biting wind blew past, as if to illustrate her point, and I followed her into the foyer. Everything was the same—honey oak floors, glittering chandeliers, and impeccable southern architecture. Still, a shift had occurred in my bones, maybe even at my most basic level. The last time I’d arrive here and entered those doors, I hadn’t known what to expect. This time I did. This time I could face my future and, hopefully, have a chance of weathering the storm.

“When I got word you were on your way, I went ahead and drew you a nice hot bath. How’s that sound?” Renee led me up the stairs and into my room. Lavender and vanilla permeated the air and drew me into the bathroom.

She didn’t need to tell me twice. I stripped out of my jeans and t-shirt and slipped into the fragrant water. I moaned in sheer pleasure as Renee bustled around making sure I had towels and anything else I needed.

I finally waved her toward the small hamper. “Sit down and tell me what happened while I was gone.”

She laughed and took her seat. “I think you need to tell me why you’re back so soon first. I heard there was trouble brewing, but from the looks of Mr. Sinclair, it seems to have boiled over and scorched.”

I nodded and lay back, letting the heat relax my muscles. I recounted my two weeks of wandering around the Cuban estate, swimming in the pool, and doing everything in my power to avoid thinking about Vinemont. When I told her about the uprising she clucked her tongue.

“That sort of trouble has happened before, but it was a long time ago.”

“When was that?”

Her dark eyes scrutinized me and she furrowed her brow as if she were trying to make a choice.

I willed her to tell me something, anything. Information was like to gold to me. It always had been in this house.

She sighed. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. I’ll tell. Maybe it’ll help.”

I leaned forward and propped my chin on my knees. Renee must have missed me to be so ready to spill information.

Her fingers were already in a twisting war with each other. “When Rebecca was Sovereign, she had a problem with a neighboring sugar cane plantation in Brazil. It was owned by another family, the Roses. The Roses had been steadily eating up the open farmland around the Vinemont fields and gained a stranglehold on the crop in that particular area with the help of paramilitaries. It was a lawless place that far inland. Still is. Anyway, once Rebecca won Sovereign, the Roses had already been doing everything they could to get the Vinemonts out of Brazil.” More hand wringing.

“Go on.”

“Well, the Sovereign has a certain set of powers.” She halted, clearly wondering how much information she should give.

“What powers?” I had to keep her talking.

“Well, the Sovereign can bring families in.”

“Like the Vinemonts?”

“Yes.” She avoided my gaze. “Like them.”

She scratched at her neck before forcing her hand back to her lap. “And the Sovereign can cast families out.”

“What happens when a family gets cast out?” I asked.

“It means that, should the Sovereign will it, the family’s assets and lives are forfeit.”

I cocked my head sideways at the idea of such a one-sided remedy. “Why doesn’t the Sovereign just do that to everyone and take everything and call it a goddamn day. To hell with the Acquisition?”

“Because the Sovereign may only do it to one family during their entire reign. He can bring one in and he can kick one out. It helps keep everyone in line, you see?”

It made sense. Casting a family out fortified the Sovereign’s wealth and position. And just the threat of it was likely enough to keep the families under the Sovereign’s thumb. Being able to add an ally? Priceless. It was like stacking up pieces around the king on a chess board. “What happens to the family that gets the boot?”

“It depends. Some are allowed to go, move away, try and rebuild. Some aren’t so lucky. The Sovereign controls fortunes, controls life or death…” She dropped her gaze to the floor, a pall falling over her.

“What happened with Rebecca and the Roses?” The water couldn’t have cooled in such a short time, but I felt a chill rush down my spine all the same.

“The Vinemonts weren’t always one of the main families. Some of the older families looked down on them, tried to take advantage—”

“Families like the Roses?”

She nodded but still didn’t meet my gaze. “By the time Rebecca became Sovereign, she was a different person. Before, she would work with the local farmers and try and sort out the issues the Roses were creating at the plantation. But after the trials, she decided to make an example of them. She waited until they instigated another supply problem—Rose trucks blocking the roads and keeping the workers from getting the sugar cane to the processing plant. She went down to the farm, flew herself as she used to do, and took Mr. Sinclair with her. I told her he was too young. She didn’t listen. That poor boy…” She finally returned my stare, her dark eyes swimming with unshed tears.

“What happened?”

Renee took a deep shuddering breath. “I really shouldn’t be telling you this.”

“Tell me.” I needed to know the rest of the story like I needed my next breath.

Her eyes flickered to the ceiling and then back to me, and she dropped her voice to barely above a whisper. “She rounded up every farmer on the Vinemont property, armed them, and set them on the Rose plantation. It was burned to the ground within hours. The fields charred. The workers killed. Mr. Rose was down there at the time. He never returned. A month after that, the Rose plantations were Vinemont plantations, and the Rose clan was no more. The little boy that left with his mother never came back, either.”

“Why would you tell me this now?” I couldn’t keep the anger from my voice. She had so much more information that she wasn’t sharing. She doled it out in tiny spoonfuls and I was hungry within seconds after each bite.

“Because I’ve seen the way Mr. Sinclair looks at you. I saw how he was for the two weeks you were gone. He needs you, Stella. More than he’s ever needed anyone. I think…I hope.” She chose her words haltingly. “I hope that you may be the one thing between him and a lifetime of regret. I wasn’t strong enough to save Rebecca. But you’re different.” A tear rolled down her cheek, hesitating in the small crease next to her mouth before falling to the floor.

“You want
me
to save
him
?” I couldn’t begin to wrap my head around the mix of Stockholm Syndrome and pure fucked up insanity she’d just said. “I’m his prisoner, his plaything, the ant he likes to use a magnifying glass on. I have no power to save myself, much less him. Whatever feelings he may have for me are nothing compared to the darkness inside him. You’ve seen it.”

“I’ve seen it.” She held my gaze. “But he’s not the only one with darkness inside him, Stella. We all have it.”

I closed my eyes and sank beneath the water, for once sated with information. I didn’t want to think or hear any more about the child Sinclair, how scared he must have been, how horrified at the violence he no doubt witnessed. I had to think of myself. It didn’t matter what sort of rules he adhered to now. The fact was he could still let me go if he chose. He could leave my father alone. He could still turn his back on the whole Acquisition. He only stayed in it to reap the rewards and benefits of a system that was built on darkness, on the vilest impulses of human nature. He was a part of it, participating willingly.

No, I wouldn’t save him. I refused. But I would save myself.

When I emerged from beneath the surface, Renee had disappeared.

After I’d soaked as long as I could in the hot water, I rose and dressed in some new pajamas I found in my dresser. Renee had been busy during my absence, the closet full of new clothes and the dresser bursting with even more. I ate in my room that night, not willing to sit through a meal with the Vinemont clan. I picked through the roast chicken and vegetables Renee had brought until there was a knock at my door.