Authors: Katie Jennings
Tags: #danilelle steel, #money, #Family, #Drama, #deceipt, #Family Saga, #stories that span generations, #Murder, #the rich, #high-stakes, #nora roberts
“I’m fine, Maddie, just fine,” Win insisted, patting his daughter on the back with a lazy grin. “You look pretty tonight. Black always suited you.”
Madison turned her attention away from Jorja, disgusted, and stared at her father despondently. “You may not be in mourning, but the rest of us are.”
Win managed a light laugh, the alcohol swimming in his head gleefully. “Everything’s gonna be alright now, you’ll see. Besides, you should be happy. Wyatt’s here.”
She bristled, but kept the worst of her fury from her expression as she glared at him. “Contrary to what you may believe, he does not make me happy.”
“Oh.” Win frowned momentarily, only to smile again as he beamed with pleasure. “He came all this way to help me, ya know. Such a good friend to me, that Wyatt. Don’t know what I ever did to deserve him. Wish you two could’ve worked it out, made him part of the family…”
“What do you mean he came all this way to help you? How?” Madison said slowly, keeping her voice down so the other guests nearby couldn’t hear. Her honeyed eyes bored into his, intense and unnerving.
When he faltered, realizing somewhere in his drunken haze that maybe he had said too much, he cleared his throat and tried to smile again. “I told him a long time ago about what I had seen, with my dad and all. He came out here to talk to the detective, to let him know I wasn’t making it all up.”
Madison froze, her eyes hardening dangerously as her blood began to boil. “He knew? All these years, he knew the truth?”
“Yeah.” Win patted her shoulder again complacently, suddenly needing to sit down. The room was starting to spin a bit too much. He plopped down into his chair and wrapped an arm around Jorja, his eyes lifting to his daughter. “He kept my secret for me, all this time. A damn good man.”
Madison tore her eyes from his and stalked off without a word, heading towards the exit and pushing past the doorman on her way out into the hallway outside the ballroom. She needed some time to think this over, to figure out what she was going to do now that she knew the truth.
Biting back the worst of her anger, she went straight to one of the wide windows that overlooked the city streets below, resting her hands on the windowsill and closing her eyes. She could hear the muffled sounds of voices, laughter and music from inside the ballroom, but out in the corridor she felt removed, peaceful. Her entire body loosened, the stiffness in her shoulders relaxing and the lines on her face smoothing as she calmed herself. When the worst of the fever subsided and her heart slowed to a softer, more controlled pace, she took a deep breath and opened her eyes once again.
So he hadn’t come back for her, after all. For some reason, knowing it nearly frustrated her more than even seeing him had. At least before she could somehow wonder if he was still suffering over her, missing her, regretting his heartless, callous decision to sever all ties with her on a whim. But now, she had no idea just what he was thinking, what his intentions were. Granted, she never really had, but at least she could put pieces together and make assumptions. This time it felt like she was shooting in the dark, blind and lost, scrambling for some semblance of understanding. And the fact that he still even had the power to make her feel so helpless grated on her very soul.
Damn him, she thought, her teeth clenching against a sob that threatened in her throat, her eyes shutting once again to combat the hot flash of pain she felt. Damn him for ever having come into her life.
He had made her suffer, pure and simple. From the moment he had charmed his way into her life, she had been suffering over him. Through all the heated passion and violent battles and furious accusations, she had suffered for him. And then when he had left her, she had suffered even still, without him.
Even though she had pushed forward and taken back her life, she had never forgotten him. His face still haunted her dreams, his voice an echo in her very heart, his touch unforgettable on her skin. Whenever she would try to move on, she would see his face on another man’s, pretend it was his hands claiming her. But it hadn’t been, and there was no possible way she could ever let it be again.
Unless…her eyes flashed open with wide intensity, her lips parting as a sudden thought occurred to her. Wyatt had to be punished. He needed to know just how it felt to lose everything, abrupt and cold, without feeling. Yes, the only choice she had was to make him suffer as she had suffered.
It wouldn’t be hard, she mused, her lips curving now as she considered. He still wanted her, that much was clear. Toying with him could be enjoyable on both ends, only she wouldn’t just be toying with his libido. Oh no.
She would make him fall in love with her, all over again. Only this time she would be the one to end it, leaving him with the broken heart while she laughed all the way into the depths of Hell itself.
It was brilliant. And would be oh so satisfying.
“So what is
this one called again?”
“
Framboise au Chocolate
,” Quinn supplied, grinning. “It’s a very decadent, very fancy version of a chocolate cake. This one has layers of milk and dark chocolate ganache, with feuilletine thrown in for a nice crunch.” She slipped her fork into the dessert and sampled another bite, brow furrowing as she chewed, tasted, dissected. “Yup, and it has some raspberry puree in there too, which pairs really nicely with the glaze on top.”
“Oh God, I bet this has a million calories.” Lynette grimaced, even as she ate another bite desperately. “But I have
never
tasted anything this good.”
Beside her, Linc laughed and continued to run his hand lazily up and down her back. “So what? Live a little.”
Lynette shot him a half-hearted glare with raised eyebrows. “You tell that to my ballet master when I can’t fit into my dress for
A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
”
“To be fair, the portion is rather small, so I think you’ll be okay,” Quinn reasoned, reaching over the table for a plate that held a single chocolate éclair. She set it down between her and Grant and smiled up at him. “Now this little beauty I think you will enjoy.”
“Is that right?” He smirked at her, amused.
“It’s a classic French dessert, an éclair,” Quinn told him informatively, slicing into the dessert carefully with her fork. “Choux pastry with vanilla flavored custard, dipped in chocolate. Here, try a bite.” She scooped up a small piece and held the fork up, fully intending on feeding it to him. When he hesitated, she only laughed. “Oh come on, you won’t look that foolish.”
“According to you,” he grumbled, even as he leaned in and sampled the piece on her fork. She watched as he chewed, his face skeptical. But when she saw the surprise flash in his eyes, she knew he was hooked.
“It’s to die for, isn’t it?” she said indulgently, resting her elbow on the table and leaning closer to him, her hazel eyes lit with pleasure and delight. This was her realm, her passion, and she loved sharing it with him more than he could ever know.
Grant’s mouth curved into a subtle smile as he met her eyes. “Almost as good as your cannolis.”
She beamed at him, pleased at the compliment. “Why thank you.”
As she turned away to talk with Lynette, he watched her and let out a slow, quiet sigh of relief. Sitting there, with her, forgetting his worries for even the smallest of moments was the greatest relief he had ever felt. And on this night, on the eve of what was sure to be the biggest hell storm he and his family had ever faced, he needed any ounce of relief he could get.
Across the table, Linc watched his brother proudly. While he had no idea just how it had happened or when, it was undoubtedly clear to him that his brother had fallen for Quinn. Not just a passing interest or a crush, but full on head over heels love. Best of all, Grant had fallen for a woman who was remarkable, funny, cheerful, and stubborn enough to ride through any storm with her head held high, all of which she would need to be in order to make it through what was happening to their family.
They may have had their many, many differences, but Linc could sense exactly what it was his brother had found in Quinn. Hell, hadn’t he managed to find exactly what he had needed, unexpectedly, in Lynette?
Where Lynette was his anchor, Quinn was clearly Grant’s light. Where Lynette steadied him and cooled the flames of his temper, Quinn provided the warmth and understanding that had been missing from Grant’s life since Erin.
Funny how, in the midst of one of life’s biggest tests, they both had been gifted with something neither of them had ever thought they could have, again or otherwise.
But perhaps that was just how life worked, Linc mused, watching Lynette now as she talked cheerfully with Quinn. It dealt you a particularly hard hand, only to throw you an ace just when you least expected it.
Or, as he was about to discover, a joker card could abruptly slip in and muddy the waters.
“Lynette, honey, there you are!” A delicate, breathy southern voice said from behind them. They both whirled around, spotting Senator Warren Shaw and his wife approaching their table.
“Mama, daddy.” Lynette smiled as she rose to her feet to greet them, brushing cheeks cordially as was expected in the environment they were in. “I thought you weren’t going to make it.”
“Nonsense,” her mother chided, waving the thought away.
Linc stood up as well to firmly shake the Senator’s hand. “Good to see you, sir.”
“And you, Linc.” Senator Shaw smiled his politician’s smile as he gazed around the room, taking stock of who had decided to show up. The group surprised him. Perhaps things were not as deteriorated as he had assumed. “I’m sorry we missed the dinner, but we had a check sent for the fundraiser. It’s obviously a good cause.”
“Thank you very much.” Linc grinned, wrapping his arm around Lynette, causing her to stiffen against him, her eyes averting to the ground as her cheeks flushed. He ignored her discomfort, wanting to display his affection for her openly and without shame. “Did Walter book you in the usual suite? If I had known you guys were coming I would have reserved it for you personally.”
The senator and his wife hesitated and Linc noticed them glance briefly at each other. The look that passed between them was some parts guilt, other parts distrust.
“Linc, we’re at the Waldorf for the evening,” Senator Shaw said evenly, his casual southern drawl touched with brusque discomfort.
Linc’s brow furrowed with confusion as he stared at them both, unsure what to say. “I don’t understand, Senator. You always stay here.”
Lynette hovered at his side, uncomfortable and uncertain.
“Well, Linc, you know how it goes…” the Senator began, trailing off vaguely, not really wanting to elaborate.
Instead, his wife stepped in, her voice curt and prim and filled with the southern nobility of her bloodline that she felt made her infinitely better than any Yankee.
“With all the negative press surrounding the hotel and your family, Linc, we felt it was best to stay elsewhere,” she said simply, her perfectly coiffed dusty blonde hair shivering as she lifted her chin haughtily, a cold and empty smile curving her lips. “I’m sure you understand why we only dropped by instead of staying for the duration of your fundraiser. We couldn’t risk associating ourselves too closely until this quiets down.”
“But you’d donate money? I’d say that associates you pretty damn well with my family,” Linc argued, fighting to keep the worst of his temper at bay.
“The money came from a trust fund under my maiden name. It can’t be easily traced to the Shaw name but will still make for a nice tax write-off.”
“Unbelievable,” Linc growled, releasing Lynette to run his hands through his hair as he digested the disloyalty, the abandonment. If the Shaws felt this way, how many other patrons were doing the same? Some of them were there at the fundraiser, but how many of them were planning on cutting all ties at another whiff of trouble for the Vasser family?
Though he didn’t want to take the Shaws’ caution and blatant self-interest personally, he found it impossible not to. Turning to the Senator, he jabbed an index finger in the older man’s chest, fire in his eyes. “We have been nothing but good to you, Senator. Is that worth nothing anymore? Is one goddamn bump in the road all it takes to scare you away?”
“Settle down, Linc,” Senator Shaw insisted, his voice dark with disapproval and embarrassment. “This isn’t the place for a scene.”