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“Priorities have shifted.”
“I don’t want him to do this for me. I can take care of myself.”
“No one is doubting your capabilities, but I don’t think any one of us truly knows what Edward Copeland is capable of. And, Dani, this isn’t just about you. Edward is controlling this entire family, and it has to end. The only way to stop him is to beat him at his own game. And the only way for us to do that is for Brant to cut ties with the Copeland family and his political ambitions.”
I sank down into my pillows, hardly believing what I had gotten myself wrapped up in. All I’d wanted was a nice, simple life with the man I loved. Not the plotline for a Taron Taylor book. “Won’t there be some backlash from that?”
“Yes,” Brock whispered. “Brant will more than likely become a political pariah, and it might do some damage to Holland Industries, but it’s the price he’s willing to pay to make sure those he loves the most are spared from Copeland’s wrath.”
“So he can just walk away and that’s it, Edward is gone? Problem solved?”
“No. That’s why we’re buying time.”
“What does it buy us?”
“Leverage and, hopefully, our father’s cooperation.”
I dropped my phone, then recovered it quickly. “You think your father is going to spill the beans?”
“He will if he wants any chance of winning my mom back and keeping a relationship with Brant and me.”
“What if his secrets destroy your family’s reputation? Or worse?”
“Dani, as long as we end up together and my family is safe, I don’t care if my money or status goes away. The thing is, whatever Edward is holding over my father, Edward was involved too. Brant has been made privy to a few other items of interest as well. Hopefully it will be enough to, figuratively, kill the beast.”
It all seemed unlikely. Puppet masters were the masters for reasons. With that said, Brant and Brock were some of the smartest men I knew. If anyone could find the scissors sharp enough to cut the strings Edward had used to ensnare us all, it would be them. Yet I feared to hope. “Brock, even if this works, it doesn’t mean—”
“That we’re staying together. I know.” He sounded so disheartened about the prospect of us breaking up. “But if it does work out,” a burst of hope shone through his words, “would you still want to be with me even if we have to start over with nothing? If we’re in a small house living paycheck to paycheck?”
I smiled to myself. It sounded like a dream to me, as weird as that sounded. Working together to make ends meet. Relying on each other instead of not having to work for anything. Grandma and Grandpa used to say their first few years of married life, being as poor as church mice, were some of their fondest memories. It was when they’d learned to rely on each other. They wished each of us girls the same fate. Yet Ariana and I had each married well-established doctors. Go figure.
“Brock, if this works and you have nothing left to your name but your integrity, I would love you even more than I do now.” My voice hitched.
“You love me?”
I could hear the smile in his voice. “Loving you has never been our problem.”
“I know. That’s why I’m going. Will you come home?”
“We don’t have a home.”
“When I bought this place, I always had you in mind. Why do you think I asked you to come to every showing?”
“I think you mentioned that the owner’s realtor thought I was attractive and you were using it as a negotiating tactic.”
Brock chuckled. “It was all an excuse. Though I did get a good deal, so thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Dani, please come here,” he pleaded. “Please let me keep you safe.”
“Is there any such thing anymore?”
“Maybe not in the traditional sense of the word, but I believe there is a certain safety when we come together. And if you come home, I can offer you the possibility of safer days ahead.”
I ran my hands through my hair, not knowing what to do. Going to Brock’s meant something. More than just being part of some mastermind plan. It meant I was opening the door to a life with Brock. A door I thought had been slammed shut. A door I was afraid to open but desperately wanted to. “Who will keep my heart safe if I come?” I cried.
“Me,” he said, unequivocally.
I felt the power of his words, but I was frightened. I had been through so much. I had lost too much. Even so, was I really ready to walk away and let everything go? Let him go?
“Okay,” I whispered. “I’ll come to your place, but I’m not making any promises.”
“I don’t expect you to.”
