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Darcy had shafted him. Enacted her revenge. Somehow she had pictures, and she’d published them. He closed his eyes as memories of that night collided with the spike of anxiety that’d hit him when he’d seen that news crew. Somehow he’d known he wasn’t safe.
“Will, are you still there?”
“I’m here. We’re on our way to Pete’s.”
“You can’t go home tonight.”
“Why the hell not?”
“They’re at your apartment as well.”
“Fucking hell.”
“I sent Wendy to pack you an overnight bag. Clothes, toiletries, your laptop. Pete has it with him. You can stay with him. But I think you should go to Hong Kong and wait this out.”
“I’m not running off to Hong Kong. Bad enough I’m chased out of my own office and home.”
Aileen’s voice caught and when Will heard the slight hitch, that tiniest note of panic, he knew things really were bad. Nothing ruffled Aileen. “It’ll be all right. We’ll get through this.”
“It’s your worst nightmare. I should’ve—”
He cut her off. “Don’t start that. I’ll see you at Pete’s.” He rang off and exchanged a look with Bo.
“Are we in trouble, Boss?”
“I’m in trouble. And you just broke about three hundred traffic regulations.”
“Tough times call for extreme measures,” said Bo, as he broke half a dozen other rules by cutting down a narrow one-way street the wrong way and doing it at speed with his fist on the horn, Shanghai style.
Pete was standing in the underground garage of his apartment with Will’s overnight bag. Will opened the door and Pete leaned inside the car. “Wait, Bo. We need to get Will on a plane tonight.”
Will shoved Pete out of the car. “I’m not going anywhere. Bo, come get me here in the morning. Early, 4am, before the bastards are awake and organised.” He unfolded out of the Audi and faced Pete. “Tell me the worst.”
“Come upstairs and I’ll show you.”
In Pete’s luxurious apartment, Will’s world was rocked. Pictures only Darcy could’ve taken were all over the Shanghai Daily. Robert Yee kneeling where the overzealous security buffoons hired by the hotel had put him, and Will standing over him like he was judge, jury and executioner. He looked savage, untamed, inhuman in his rage. She’d captured the moment he’d finally understood his own risk taking, arrogance and egotism was his downfall. She handed his humiliation to him on a platter of his own
making.
The pictures were all over the internet as well, but the Australian media was the worst. When Aileen arrived she had transcripts and recordings of radio and TV broadcasts, as well as Darcy’s original Herald story that started it all.
Pete cracked the seal on a new bottle of Lagavulin and poured them all glasses. “We sue. This is a clear breech of privacy. You were set up. This won’t stand up to the public interest test.”
“The horse has bolted. I don’t see the point.”
“I don’t know how much information you gave her, but she could go with everything. We have to show our hand now, before she does.”
Will looked at the caramel coloured fluid. He could almost taste its smoky vanilla buzz at the back of his throat, but he left the glass on the table. “How does that help us now?”
“It’ll make it easier to insist on those photos being taken off websites. It’ll make other publishers think twice about printing invasive images like this. It will tangle the Herald up in so much red tape and legal expense they’ll wish they never started this.”
“And Avalon?”
Pete shook his head. “Australia’s favourite chairman, Ted Barstow, tough old boot, won’t take my call. He wrote an email to say they’re advising all their shareholders to reject our offer.”
“We’ll increase the price.”
“I don’t think it’s going to help. And paying above fair value makes us look desperate. The Australian media have been hammering this story. You’re a tax dodging capitalist raider from hell. It’s over, Will. We can try again in a year or two when it’s all forgotten, but it’s over now.”
