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He might as well have struck me. He was right—he hadn’t earned a dime in a year. He could be a huge earner, but he wasn’t anymore. Zeke constantly sent him emails, wanting to meet about the downturn…
I swallowed.But we are very, very rich. I sat down in a chair opposite him at the desk because my legs didn’t feel steady anymore. Was it shock? Did shock feel like this? He said I was a genius, but I wasn’t. I was very,verystupid.He called it our secret project—Bridget’s secret project.
“This didn’t go through the company, did it, Dad? This…this was something else.” Icy dread seemed to wash over me in waves. Truth flooded through me, and I couldn’t believe what a fucking idiot I had been. I didn’t ask any questions, and I learned nothing. I didn’t speak to any compliance officers. I wasn’t licensed to do what I was doing, and yet here I was.
I’m a fucking terrorist.He hadn’t done a thing. It had all been me, and I looked at my hands, horrified because now I could see the blood. He saidlook at these numbers. See if you can make profit from this. I’d been so terrified I would let him down, so scared I would fail. Goosebumps had been my warning, my body’s way of trying to tell me not to do it, but I did. I did it so,sowell.
Tears flooded my eyes as I thought about all the money. “I’ve killed people.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, you didn’tkillanyone. Youmadealmost a billion dollars, that’s what you did. Be proud of yourself. You didn’t tell anyone to turn around and blow things up or kill people, so what they do with their money is none of your business.” He pointed at me. “And after Layla marries Kit, we’ll be so rich, your great-grandchildren won’t ever have to work.”
I swallowed. It might be true, but I couldn’t let that happen. Well, not all of it. I couldn’t do a thing about Layla marrying Kit, since she said she loved him.
But there was something else Icoulddo, and I intended to do it. I wiped at my eyes and stared back at him, finally sure of what I needed to do. I would tank my father. He’d never have any money again, not if I had anything to do with it.
9
Five years earlier
Ihated New Year’s Eve. The spectacle. The noise. My father made so much money in the last quarter of the year that he threw a giant company party he expected us all to attend. Of course, Hope wasn’t there. Apparently, she took off for a spa in the Alps, but other than a quick text letting Layla and me know she’d be unreachable, she simply vanished.
Knowing it wasn’t my business and accepting her being offline and not answering me were two different things. I sipped my champagne…technically, it would be a few more months before I would be legally old enough to drink, but that didn’t stop me from doing it anyway. I scanned the room over the rim of my glass and spotted Layla talking to Kit. They both seemed bored, but I hoped that would be over soon. I was about to lose the Allards a lot of money, so I tilted my glass toward him in a silent cheer. Not that they’d notice, per se. The Allards were the real deal of scummy, and they made their money in the worst possible ways. Their investments with my father wouldn’t rattletheir bank account too badly, but hopefully it would still slow them down a bit.
My father by contrast…
I eyed him and looked away. Grinning ear to ear like he’d won something—I hated him.
Jim Willow caught my eye, and I really hated him. He seemed desperate to date me—or to get a hold of my bank account. I turned quickly, set my drink down on an empty table, then made a beeline to the other side of the room, past the dance floor. Looking over my shoulder, I checked to see if Jim followed me, then slammed right into Michael Li.
My heart caught and then plummeted into my stomach. I hadn’t known he’d be here, but he was always with my dad these days. After all, my father paid him top dollar to show up personally. In fact, my dad might even think he worked for the company, but I knew he didn’t. He owned his own security firm, but my father tended to forget people had lives outside of his interest in them.
“Hey,” Michael said and grinned at me.Wow.He looked good in a tuxedo. It fit him like it had been made to do so. Maybe it had? Michael deserved custom tailored suits as much as anyone, particularly if he looked like that in them. My core heated and I shifted my weight. He would never know it, but he was responsible for the few orgasms I had ever managed to give myself. He starred in every fantasy that worked, oddly enough.Shit.My cheeks had to be completely red.
“Hi.” I smiled at him and hoped he wouldn’t guess why I was so befuddled. “How are you? Happy almost New Year.”
His grin was huge. “Same to you. That’s quite a dress, Bridget.”
I glanced down, not even remembering what I wore.Oh, that’s right.Layla picked the gown out for me, a really, really short ivory feathered shift dress. If I went outside without myjacket, I would freeze to death. But inside it was warm, and Layla insisted the ivory would work for me, even though pure white paired with my pale skin made me look like death.
“Thanks.” I looked around. “Working or partying?”
“Working.” He shook his head. “Not my scene, really, but I’ll be going out after I drop your father at home later.”
I wasn’t really sure why I opened my mouth right then, but the words spilled out before I could overthink them. “You know, Michael, I really admire you.”
He blinked, clearly surprised. “Why is that?”
“You built this incredible business on your own. You started with an incredible business plan, and it worked out for you in a big way. You work hard, people seem to love working for you—even if they hate following us around—and you made this organization to keep people safe. You’re literally earning every day by doing good deeds. I…I may not be particularly articulate, but I just wanted to say that. There are so many very bad people doing awful things.”Like myself. “I wanted you to know how much I think you’re just amazing. Smart. Funny. Kind. Anyway, that’s it. Sorry if I’m rambling and ridiculous.”
Why did I say all that?I no sooner finished speaking before I wished I just shut the fuck up and left the room. I had this problem—weirdness was my kryptonite. Just when I thought I could get through things unscathed, it popped back up to drag me back to the place where people found me cringe-y.Michael probably finds me super cringe right now. He stared at me in silence, though every once in a while he would blink rapidly and then run his hand through his hair. In fact, the silence stretched way too long.
Okay, I have to exit.I said, “Sorry. That was weird. I’ll leave you alone and…”
He put his hand gently on my wrist, his thumb brushing across my pulse as if to calm it with his touch. “No. It wasn’tweird. It was maybe the single nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Bridget…I…”
Jim showed up then. Stumbling a little—obviously drunk based on his strong scent, not to mention the weaving—he grabbed my arm and yanked me away from Michael.
“Br—Bridget.” It took him a second to say my name and then he looked super proud of himself for a second before continuing. “I’ve been looking for you all night.”
