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“How do you know this?”
“Your father came to me in dire straits because they’re also the kind of men that don’t take no for an answer. They’ll pay you, but you take what they offer.”
“But they did take no for an answer.”
“Only because I hired an ex-CIA agent to help us. He tipped off the right people, and they handled it.”
My brow furrows. “Why would they pay my father at all if they were that bad?”
“They couldn’t just take it without question, not with the way your father loved that place. And they knew that. They ran everything through a legit investment operation, and the truth is, that mercury might not be worth much to you and me, but to them it would net billions.”
“Obviously there’s more,” I say, not liking where this emergency is leading.
“Your mother started gambling again when your father died, and this time she went off the deep end. She came to me for money. I helped her and tried to get her into rehab, but she pushed back. She wanted to sell. She wanted to find the men who wanted the mercury.”
“Oh no.”
“I’m afraid so. She told me you wouldn’t sell and that I had to find a way to get around you having to sign off on the deal, and that if I did, she’d split the profits. I won’t lie to you. Your father and I had disagreements, but I agreed with him on the mercury. Selling to those people would be blood on his hands he didn’t want, and neither do I. I told your mother I’d look into pushing you out of the deal, but eventually I told her there was no way around it. I urged her to go to you and confess the gambling issues. I told her I’d even buy the winery and give you both a profit.”
“She said no.”
“She said no, and I told her I was going to you. That’s when she showed me a video of the two of us together and threatened to take it to my wife. I was out then, but I kept tabs on things, waiting to see if you needed me. And that brings me to where this is headed. I knew when you sued her for the property, and I wanted you to win. I would have offered to fund your legal fees, but you hated me and wouldn’t even speak to me, and if your mother found out, I was at risk with my wife.”
“Why would my father want me to inherit the winery if it put me in danger?”
“This was ten years ago, Faith. I buried the mercury. The CIA buried the mercury. And you were not going to sell, which means no one who wants the mercury could get it.”
“I still don’t see where this is going. What is the emergency? Are those men back? Did my mother contact them?”
“If those men are back on the radar, they’re working smarter this time.”
My heart starts to race. “What do you know? Just tell me.”
“I followed the legal case between you and your mother. I know who your attorney was, and I know who her attorney was.”
“And?”
He sets a folder in front of me. “Look inside.”
I flip it open, and I’m staring at a birth certificate for a Nick Marks. Mother: Melanie Marks. Father: Nathan Marks. The attorney who represented my mother. My heart is now skipping beats. I flip the page to find a court document changing the name of Nick Marks to Nick Rogers.
I swallow, and I almost choke. I can’t catch my breath. I can’t breathe. “I need to go,” I say, but he catches my arm.
“Easy, honey. Let me help you.”
“No. No. I—”
“Listen to me,” he says firmly. “If he’s involved with the mercury hunters, this is bad news. We need to come up with a plan together.”
“I needto go,” I say, pulling away from him. “I’ll call you. I just… Not now.” I all but run for the door and barely remember the moment I get in the car. Nick’s car. Oh God. My entire life is wrapped around a man conning me. So many things don’t add up, but the bottom line is that Nick is Nathan Marks’s son. He never told me that. I start the engine, and I don’t even know where I’m headed. I end up parked in the parking lot of the high-rise that is supposed to be our new home.
I sit there thirty seconds, or maybe thirty minutes. I have no concept of time. My phone rings, and I reach for it, my hand shaking as I find Nick calling. I answer it.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he says.
His voice, rich and masculine and beautiful and deceitful, tears holes in my heart. “I know,” I say.
“What?”
