Glorious Rivals(36)



“Hello, Lyra.” Green eyes raked up and down over Lyra’s body, sizing her up. As Lyra returned the favor, she reminded herself that looks could be deceiving.

“Who the hell are you?” Lyra said. “And how did you get on the island?”

“It wasn’t easy with increased security, but I had help. As for who I am…” The interloper smiled coyly. “My name is Eve, and I’m the reason you’re here.”

Eve. The name meant nothing to Lyra. Her mind started to race, but she forced it to slow down, holding on to every ounce of calm she could muster. “You put me in the game? You sent me my ticket?”

“You’re welcome.”

Lyra’s eyes narrowed. “The lights—”

“A distraction,” Eve replied. “My associate and I tracked you and Grayson up here, and let’s just say that I know how Grayson Hawthorne’s mind works. I knew he’d either interpret the lights a part of the game—or a threat. If he perceived a threat, he’d be the one to go. If he assumed it was a part of the game, there was a chance both of you would, but you would have separated eventually.”

“Let me guess,” Lyra said flatly, “you and your associate would have seen to that?”

“He’s quite useful, my associate,” Eve replied. “Very eclectic skillset. But that’s not really what you want to ask your sponsor. Is it?”

Lyra eyed the ladder, but Eve was blocking it, and even if she hadn’t been, Lyra couldn’t have just walked away. “What is your associate going to do to Grayson?” Lyra demanded.

“Absolutely nothing. Grayson will never even know my sentinel is there.”

Lyra took a step forward. “What do you want with me? Why send me here?”

“I would have thought the note that accompanied my gift to you was clear enough. I sent you that ticket because you deserve this—for everything the Hawthorne family took from you, for everything you’ve suffered, you deserve this.” Eve smiled again, sweetly this time. “And I thought our interests might align.”

Lyra didn’t like the sound of that. “What interests?”

“You’re going to do something for me, Lyra.”

“I doubt that.”

Eve adopted an almost wounded expression. “But I’m a friend of Grayson’s—or at least, I used to be. It appears as though you’re his friend now.”

Grayson. Lyra tried to process that. This is about Grayson? “So you’re… what? The unhinged ex?”

“I like to think of myself more as the path untraveled,” Eve said. “But for your purposes, the only thing that matters is that, once upon a time, I got a look at a billionaire’s List, capital L. Enemies. People the great Tobias Hawthorne had wronged, people he had destroyed or betrayed, mysterious individuals who’d offed themselves because of him—you get the drift.”

“My father.” Lyra cut through the bullshit. Grayson had mentioned his grandfather’s List, but he’d also told Lyra something else. “Grayson said that Tobias Hawthorne’s file on him was full of false information. Dead ends.”

“Oh?” Eve replied. “How fortunate, then, that along with a great deal of money, I also inherited another man’s files, which happened to detail not just that very wealthy man’s rivals and adversaries but also the webs surrounding all of those individuals: their allies and friends on the one hand and their enemies on the other. You can see why you caught my interest.”

Lyra had started this game hating Grayson Hawthorne—and the entire Hawthorne family.

“Suffice it to say, my file on your father is a bit more detailed than Tobias Hawthorne’s was.” Eve gave Lyra a moment to process that. “Let’s play a game, shall we? I’ll give you three questions about the contents of my file on your father—any three you like, which I will answer honestly, if not fully. And in return, all you have to give me is the opportunity to present you with an offer.”

I’m not taking any damn deals. Eve’s game, on the other hand—that, Lyra would play. “What does your file say about omega?”

“Nothing.” Eve tilted her head to one side. “What’s omega?”

Lyra’s gut said Eve wasn’t acting, that the word omega rang no bells for her whatsoever. Lyra took a beat to consider her second question and zeroed in on one more likely to yield results. “What does your file say about calla lilies?”

“Only that Tobias Hawthorne had some sent to your father’s funeral.” Eve gave a little shrug. “A bit sentimental, if you ask me. One question left.”

Tobias Hawthorne knew something. Lyra’s heart rate accelerated. He sent calla lilies for a reason. The dead billionaire had clearly been a man whose every action was layered with meaning, and he didn’t strike Lyra as the type to send flowers to funerals out of sentiment.

Putting a pin in that line of thinking, Lyra considered the fact that Eve had offered true answers but not necessarily full ones, and yet, when Lyra had asked about calla lilies, Eve had responded that her file contained only one thing on the topic. Lyra didn’t trust her so-called sponsor as far as she could throw her, but her gut said—again—that Eve was telling the truth, that she really didn’t know anything more about the calla lilies.

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