“Pay it from our joint US dollar account. Pay it now. Do as she says.”
“Daisy—this is—”
“I believe her. She’ll send this footage to the media. It’ll go to the police. You saw what’s on there. And all those other guys who were present—you can see their faces. They can be identified. They’ll be named, too, after all these years. They also have jobs and kids and wives and lives, and mark my words, they will fight their damnedest to protect those things. They will smell blood in the water, and they’ll turn on you. They’ll do deals and testify against you. Pay that nine hundred K and you might save yourself from prison. You might get to see the birth of our son.”
“What thefuckdid you keep that footage for, Daisy? This is your damn fault. Without it we would not be sitting here at this bitch’s mercy. Where did you get it anyway?”
“From one of your friends. I saw him recording at the party. I demanded his phone. I copied his recording to mine and made him delete his.”
“You copied it?”
She swallows.
“Why?”
Kat says, “Like mother, like daughter. She likes to keep insurance on her questionable man. With insurance she has leverage. She can make things go her way. I guess you never realized, Jon, how shecontrols you. She is in charge of everything in your relationship. She and her family and their money.”
“If we pay you now,” he snaps, “how can we be sure you won’t come back?”
“You can’t be.”
Every fiber of Jon’s being screams to attack this woman. Just shred and obliterate her, make her go away. Forever. So she can never rise again in his future.
“I want that video,” he says.
“Don’t be stupid, Jon,” Daisy snaps. “There could be any number of copies out there now. Buy her silence. It’s worked before.”
“Yet here she is, back again for more.” He spins to face Katarina. “I will kill you,” he says. “I will fucking kill you if you even think of coming back. I—”
“Remember, everything you’re saying now is being recorded, Jon,” Kat says. She nods at the tablet. “Transfer the money.”
Jon takes the tablet. Sweating, he punches in the password for his online account. He tells himself that the instant he leaves this house, he’ll go back online and attempt to reverse the transfer. His mobile pings. He checks his phone, then copies the code he was sent by the bank. He smells fear on himself. Acrid. Mixed with old alcohol from the day’s drinking at the park. He glances at Daisy.
Her eyes are flint. “Do it,” she says.
He inhales and asks Kat for her account details. She gives them. He enters the information, punches in the amount. He hesitates, then hits “Transfer.”
“Thank you, Jon.” Kat reaches for the laptop. She seats herself and taps away on the iPad.
“What are you doing?” Jon asks.
“Just transferring it to my offshore account. Don’t worry. Like I said, I did go into the bank ahead of time and clear all the details with my account manager. The bank is anticipating the transfer. Just imaginehow much you might have had to pay in child support, education, medical costs. Not only for my baby if it was proved to be yours, but for Charley’s, too.” She hits a final button, glances up. “Or if I sued you in civil court, as I still can do, especially with this evidence now, I reckon that given what you did to me, how you destroyed my physical health, threatened my parents, the ensuing mental trauma, the stress, the loss of my own education and a chance for me to earn a more lucrative living, I’d get more than nine hundred K. Plus you’d incur legal costs. And there would be the press. So much press. Imagine the headlines: ‘Gold medalist, national ski hero, ex-Olympian, admits to gang-raping Whistler schoolgirl with members of ski team.’ Then he and his girlfriend’s family—TerraWest founder Labden Wentworth and top Realtor Annabelle Wentworth—tried to thwart justice? Consider this a simple solution.” She holds his gaze. “Consider this the justice that the system denied me.”
She checks her tablet. “There, it’s gone through. How about we drink to that?” She reaches for her glass and holds it up. “Cheers.”
“Will that be all?” Daisy asks.
Kat angles her head. “That’s all.”
“Can we go?” Daisy asks.
Kat holds her hand toward the door. “Be my guest.”
“I swear, we’re not done here,” Jon says.
“Maybe you aren’t,” Kat says quietly. “But I am.”
DAISY
