Page 90 of Bitter Truths

“Wonderful.” Whitney’s smile brightens. “Because the day after I return, we’ll be hosting a gathering. Investors, board members, some of Daddy’s colleagues. A live demonstration of how effectively the bond works.”

Another demonstration with an audience.

My throat closes up.

I can feel the others tense around me. Owen’s hands curl into fists where they hang at his sides. Tristan goes still as a statue. Weller inhales sharply before he catches himself.

Whitney sees it all. She always does. Her smile sharpens.

“Oh, don’t look so glum. You’ve performed so beautifully before. Remember the pharmaceutical conference last spring? Our guests were quite impressed.”

I want to vomit. The memory of that night—being forced to⁠—

I can feel Owen about to say something stupid that will make Whitney dig deeper. Time to redirect.

“We understand the importance,” I jump in before Owen can respond. “Of supporting your father’s work.”

The lie burns in my throat, but it gets the result I need. Whitney’s attention shifts to me, and Owen settles.

“Excellent.” She claps her hands together, the way a little girl does when she’s gotten what she wants. “It’ll be such an educational evening for everyone. I’m already deep in planning for the show. The attendees are so looking forward to it. Let’s make sure we dazzle them… Daddy is counting on it.”

My skin crawls.

“Of course,” Weller manages.

“Good boys.” The condescension drips from her voice. “Now, I simply must ask—you haven’t been entertaining any visitors while I’m away, have you? The reports mentioned some... concerning deviations from your usual patterns.”

My vision tunnels.

So she knows about the hospital visits.

But if she knew about the penthouse... we would be talking to a different version of Whitney entirely.

Or she would be home already.

Thank fuck for Tristan’s paranoia. The security feeds for the entire building have been looping old footage for days.

“Visitors?” Tristan asks, his voice steady.

“Oh, you know.” Whitney examines her nails, that smile never faltering. “Old friends. People who might remind you of... inappropriate loyalties.”

The threat is clearer now. But she’s fishing, not accusing. She doesn’t have proof.

“We’ve been to the hospital,” I say, automatically smoothing over the tension. “Checking on Winston Quinn after his accident. You know how close we all were in school.”

“Yes, I heard about that. So tragic. And I’m sure you haven’t encountered anyone who might... confuse your priorities, right?”

She’s probing, not attacking.

“Such as?” Owen’s voice comes out flat.

Whitney’s smile widens, showing teeth. “Well, word travels in our circles. Apparently, Winston’s dear sister has crawled out of whatever hole she’s been hiding in. How... nostalgic that must be for you.”

Fuck. She definitely knows Bianca’s back.

“Haven’t seen her,” Weller lies. His fingers don’t move on the desk, but I catch the slight tension in his shoulders.

“Haven’t you?” Whitney’s laugh could cut. “How disappointing. I was hoping we might have a chance to... reconnect. I do so enjoy reunions. They can be very educational.”