“You can stay at Wayback Cottage,” Oren said soothingly. “With your parents.”
“I’ll stay with you,” Rebecca said quietly.
“No,” her mother snapped. “You love Hawthornes so much, Rebecca?
Stay with them.”
CHAPTER 52
Oren called in one of the decoy SUVs to bring Mallory, Rebecca, and Thea back to the estate. Eve opted to ride with them instead of Xander and me, and when the second SUV pulled up to the House, neither she nor Mallory were in it.
“Eve said to tell you she’s staying at the cottage.” Rebecca looked down.
“With my mom.”
I am not going to stay where I’m not wanted, I could hear Eve saying. I can’t. I felt another stab of guilt, then wondered if that was the point.
“She said she’ll try to figure out what the number means herself,” Thea added. “Just not here.”
If Eve was trustworthy, I’d hurt her. Badly. But if she wasn’t…
I turned to Oren. “You still have a man on Eve?”
“One for her,” my head of security confirmed, “one for Mallory, six securing the gates, four more guarding the immediate perimeter here, and three besides me in the House.”
That should have made me feel safer, but all I could think was don’t trust anyone.
Alisa was waiting for me in the foyer. Oren must have known, but he hadn’t warned me.
Before I could say a thing, a small barking blur rounded the corner.
An instant later, Libby followed, giving chase. “House too big!” she huffed. “Puppy too fast! I hate cardio!”
“Have you named her yet?” Xander called as the puppy closed in on us.
Libby stopped running and bent over, her hands on her knees. “I told you to name her, Xander. She’s—”
“A Hawthorne dog,” Xander finished. “As you wish.” He picked the puppy up and snuggled her to his chest. “We shall call you Tiramisu,” he declared.
“This is Nash’s doing, I presume?” Alisa reached out to stroke the puppy’s ear. “Fair warning,” she told the pup softly, “Nash Hawthorne has never loved anything he didn’t leave.”
Libby stared at Alisa for a moment, then pushed her sweaty hair out of her kohl-rimmed eyes. “Would you look at that,” she said in a deadpan. “It’s time for my cardio.”
As my sister stalked off, I narrowed my eyes at Alisa. “Was that really necessary?”
“We have bigger problems right now.” Alisa held out her phone. There was a news article on the screen.
“People Are Getting Very Nervous”： Hawthorne Heiress on Verge of Taking the Reins.
Apparently, Market Watch did not have a high opinion of my capabilities. All ventures in which Tobias Hawthorne had been a major investor were being flagged with caution.
“The onslaught continues,” I muttered. “I don’t have time for this.”
“And you won’t have to be the one to deal with things like this,” Alisa replied, “if you establish a trust.”
Don’t trust anyone. Suddenly, I heard that warning in a different way.
Had Tobias Hawthorne meant it to have a double meaning? The closer I got to the year mark, the harder Alisa pushed, and the closer she and her firm got to losing the reins.
“Leave her alone, Alisa.”
I looked up to see Jameson striding toward us. He was wearing a crisp white dress shirt, cuffed to his forearms. “A trust isn’t necessary. Avery can make do with financial advisors.”