Page 126 of Ballrooms & Blackmail

Angela sets the papers down one-by-one. “An old Jardin Logistics facility. A courier route hidden through one of Thorn’s subcontractors. And in a private data vault the Lyons think I don’t know about.”

“I don’t understand,” River says.

“Don’t understand what, little hen?” I ask.

“If they release all of this then…what will they have left?” She shakes her head. “It’s kind of hard to blackmail people if you don’t have any blackmail material left.”

My brows drag together because…I don’t know the answer to that—to any of it.

“You think it’s a ruse?” Angela asks.

“I don’t know.” River nibbles at the corner of her mouth. “What do you think?”

Angela’s quiet for a long moment. “I think it doesn’t really matter what their motivation is. We need to recover the complete drives so we can take away any leverage they think they have.” She stands. “I’ll secure the one in the data vault. You guys need to take care of getting the others.”

“It’d be better if we worked together,” Pascal begins.

Angela snorts. “You know that’s not going to happen.”

“Okay,” he says. “Safer then. For you,” he adds when she just walks to the rack and shrugs on her coat.

“I’ll be in contact when I have it locked down.”

“If not safer for you,” River interjects, “then how about for Chrissy? If you get hurt she’ll?—”

A laugh that contains absolutely no humor. “Then she’ll be far better off.” She slips on her sunglasses. “Inform the FBI, get them on the trail too, and I’ll be in touch soon.”

River takes a step toward her. “Angela?—”

“Don’t do that,” she snaps.

“Do what?” River asks.

“Don’t look at me like you’re concerned.”

“I am concerned. Why are you doing this?” River moves over to her. “We could all work together?—”

“No.” The sharp sound has everyone freezing. “It’s not safe for any of you.”

Heavy quiet falls.

“Don’t do that either,” Angela snaps.

“Do what?” River asks again.

“Don’t act like you care what happens to me.”

River’s mouth twitches. “What if I do care?”

Something slices through her expression. “No, you don’t.” She says it like she’s warning River off.

A sigh. “Fine, I don’t care.” A beat. “Same as you, Angela.”

Angela’s expression is so affronted at that accusation—that she might actually care about something—that I want to laugh.

“Focus,” she orders. “Make sure Attie gets enough to move legally and that Jean-Michel and Chrissy and Rory get enough to protect the charities. Lock down your financial channels and loop in Brooks and Briar. And you”—she glares at me—“stop avoiding your past and use it to strike the death blow.”

I nod. Because she’s not wrong.