“My husband?”
“You think I didn’t know. You think he would just buy my company and fire me without letting it slip that you were his wife?”
“It was your father’s company.”
Why did I say that? I needed to calm him down, not wind him up more, but it was out before I could even think.
“And now it’s the Beast’s. It is not going to end this way, Belle. I will come out on top, and you will have nothing,” he spat out.
“You don’t have to do this,” I said again, quieter now. “Whatever this is.”
“He got me fired,” Tripp snapped. “From my own company. I don’t know what the plan is, but it ends now. Whatever vendetta you have?—”
My pulse thundered.
“Tripp, I don’t have a vendetta. I just want to know where my dad is.” I demanded.
“Safe,” he said. “For now.”
For now. Lightning split the sky outside.
“You need to come talk to me,” he said. “Alone.”
My breath came shallow. “This doesn’t have to escalate,” I said carefully.
“It already has.”
I glanced back into the coffee shop.
James was wiping down the espresso machine, oblivious.
The rain roared outside like a warning.
“Don’t bring anyone,” Tripp added. “If you bring him?—”
He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to. My heart slammed against my ribs.
“Give me the address,” I said quietly.
There was a pause.
Then he gave it to me.
And everything in my body knew that this was about to get much worse.
The address he sent was a diner.
On the edge of town, where the highway thinned into two lanes and trees pressed in close. That somehow made it worse.
The rain battered my windshield so hard I had to lean forward to see. The wipers struggled to keep up, smearing headlights into white streaks. The roads were slick, water pooling in dips I knew too well.
I texted Raph at a red light.
Belle - What the fuck did you do?
The message sent.
I didn’t wait for the response. I couldn’t. The roads demanded both hands and every ounce of focus.
