I’d never felt unsafe around Eli. He hadn’t harmed me, and he could have, if that had been his goal. For whatever reason, I replayed Oren’s words in my head. Possibly a payout from the press.
I thought of Max’s ex-boyfriend, who’d tried to access her phone, so he could sell our texts. About my “father” and Skye selling their stories. About the payout that Alisa had arranged, back at the beginning, to have Libby’s mother sign an NDA.
It was starting to sink in that for the rest of my life, the people I met, the people I became close to—there would always be a chance that they saw me as a payout.
“This is the second time that my error in judgment has cost you dearly,” Oren said stiffly. “If you feel the need to hire new security, I’m sure Alisa could—”
“No!” I said. If Alisa hired someone, that person’s loyalty would be to her. Whatever mistakes Oren had made, I believed that his allegiance was to me. He’d do whatever he could to protect me, because Tobias Hawthorne had asked him to.
“Yes?” Oren said curtly. It took me a second to realize that he wasn’t talking to me. He was wearing an earpiece and talking to one of his men. How many of them can we trust? How many of them would sell me out for the right payout?
“Let them through,” Oren ordered, and then he turned back to me. “Your sister and Nash have arrived at the gates.”
CHAPTER 67
I waited for Libby and Nash in Tobias Hawthorne’s study and requested that security allow Grayson, Jameson, and Xander to come back. I texted the boys to meet me, then waited, alone but for Oren, who stood no more than six feet away. I was jittery and on edge. Why did it take Libby so long to text me back? What did they find in Cartago?
“Avery, get behind me.” Oren stepped forward, drawing his gun. I had no idea why until I followed his line of vision to the display case on the back wall, the one that housed shelves and shelves of Hawthorne trophies. The wall was moving, rotating toward us.
I moved behind Oren. He took a step forward and called out to the person behind the wall. “Identify yourself. I have a gun.”
“So do I.” Zara Hawthorne-Calligaris stepped into the room, looking like she was headed to some kind of country club brunch. She was wearing a sweater-set, slacks, and classic, neutral flats.
She was holding a gun.
“Put it down.” Oren trained his gun on Zara.
Her own weapon held steady, Zara gave Oren her most unimpressed look. “I think we all know that I’m the least murderous Hawthorne of my generation,” she said, her voice high and clear, “so I will happily lower my weapon once you lower yours, John.”
I forgot, most of the time, that Oren had a first name.
“Don’t do this,” Oren told her. “I don’t want to shoot you, Zara, but make no mistake that I will. Put your gun down, and we can talk.”
Zara didn’t waffle. “You know me, John. Intimately.” Her tone never changed, but there was no mistaking what she meant by that. “Do you really believe that I’m capable of harming a child?”
The “child” in question was clearly me, but that barely even registered. My heart was pounding so hard that I felt like it might bruise my rib cage, but I still managed to speak. “Intimately?” I asked Oren.
“Not since my father’s death, I assure you,” Zara told me. “John has always been quite clear on where his priorities lie. First with my father, and then with you.”
Twenty years ago, when Tobias Hawthorne had left Zara his wedding ring, he’d been making a point about her infidelity. Now she was married to a different man, but the text in Tobias Hawthorne’s will had remained the same.
She was having another affair. With Oren.
“You shouldn’t be here, Zara,” Oren said, his gun’s aim never wavering.
“Shouldn’t I?” she asked. After a moment longer, she lowered the gun, placing it on the desk. “Had your men allowed me entrance in a more traditional fashion, I would not have had to sneak in like a thief, and were I certain you would not have me escorted out, I would have no need of a firearm now. But here are. However, as a show of good will that none of you deserve, so long as no one attempts to remove me, my gun will stay right where it is, on that desk.”
After a long moment, Oren lowered his own weapon and Zara turned toward me. “Young lady, you will tell me what that nonsense on the news last night was. Now.” Toby was her brother. I could only begin to imagine what her reaction had been to what she had heard.