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I stare at her in disbelief. “Look, I don’t know what bullshit Lucas has been feeding you, but it’s not true.”
“Honey,” Mom says, her tone growing hard, “talking smack about your husband isn’t—”
“It’s not smack,” I protest. “He’s a bad man, Mom.”
Mom glances at my father. “The doctors said her memory of the event might be a bit foggy. It’s a response to trauma. Vivian, sweetheart,” she says, reaching for my hand, “Lucas said he arrived home to Theo trying to shove you against a wall. His men said they heard the screaming from all the way down the hall—”
“I’m telling you, that’s not how it happened.” My family just stares at me like a bunch of lemmings, and I shake my head in disbelief at the incomprehension on their faces. “You don’t believe me?” Their silence is all the answer I need, and I can feel my anxiety rising. “I’m your daughter, for fuck’s sake! He’s gaslighting you; can’t you see that? Theo was trying to protect me from Lucas! He wouldn’t have ever tried to hurt me!”
“Honey…” Dad rubs the back of his neck. “Theo Emmerico has been creating discord among our men for months now. Undermining Victor’s authority, funneling money out of our businesses onto his own accounts, playing us against each other… He’s trying to bring us down from within. All the instability can be traced back to him—and there’s a paper trail.”
I swallow, my retort vanishing before it’s out of my mouth. “A paper trail?”
Dad nods, lowering his voice. “We’ve been doing some digging. It’s all there, right in front of us: bank statements, call logs, bogus police reports, unauthorized meetings… all of it leading back to the same man.”
“Theo,” I breathe, my mouth dropping open. “That... That can’t be true.”
“It is,” Dad tells me. “We’ve had it verified by several auditors—on our side and the Emmericos’. The shit-stirring isn’t even our biggest problem, either. What’s worse is the rift this has created between our families. Our empires are already at odds. Now we’re seeing cracks everywhere, guys breaking rank, secrets being spilled—hell, I’ve got made men telling me they’re afraid to leave their apartments because of this shit, Vivian. It’s a powder keg, and I’m just waiting for it to go off.”
I stare at him, trying to make sense of what he’s saying, but my mind feels like it’s been blown to pieces. This can’t be real. How can this be real? I have no doubt about my feelings for Theo, but beyond that... How much do I really know about his business dealings? Was there anything he told me about himself that I didn’t just accept at face value? And if not… if Lucas was just exploiting corruption that was already there... what does that mean for me?
“If this is about guilt, Vivian, it’s all right,” Dad says. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened. And you don’t have to cover for him anymore. For now, all you need to do is rest and recover. Now—”
The sound of his phone ringing interrupts him, and he sighs when he glances at it. “I have to take this,” he says. “It’s Rhys.”
Mom groans and trails after him as he moves toward the windows, holding his phone up to look for bars. “He can’t give us ten minutes with our injured daughter?”
“It’s a security thing,” Dad replies, putting the phone to his ear. “Too many entrances. Hello, Rhys? Yes, I’m here.”
Violet and I are left at the table as Dad talks to his bodyguard in a low voice. There’s a pregnant pause as we eye each other, each no doubt thinking back to our last conversation. I finally speak up, but I don’t like how desperate I sound. “Do you really believe Theo went crazy?”
Violet sighs and shakes her head. “I don’t know what to believe anymore, Vivian. Or why you’re so keen on defending him.” Her eyes meet mine, like she’s searching for something, and I hold my breath, wondering if I’ve overplayed my hand. But then she glances over her shoulder and leans forward, her voice barely above a whisper. “Look,” she says finally, “I haven’t heard much more than you. But I do know he’s not dead. Not yet, anyway.”
“What happened to him?”
“They locked him out of the business,” Violet replies. “Victor had his men push him out of London. They have orders to take him out if he ever comes back. Lucas has taken his place.”
Fuck, I think, clenching my jaw, and I catch myself fighting back tears. All the years Theo spent setting himself up to take over the family have turned out to amount to nothing—and all because I let myself get too close to him.
Violet looks like she’s about to say more, but then our parents are striding back over, looking put off. “We have to go,” Dad says, pocketing his phone. “Rhys is about to have a heart attack. Can’t be too careful right now, I suppose.”
I swallow. “That’s it? You’re leaving?”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Mom says, pulling me into a hug. “We’ll call you again as soon as we’re able. Things aren’t safe for us out and about in the city right now. Violet, come on—the car is waiting.”
I exchange a listless goodbye with them as they retreat, clearly preoccupied with whatever it is Rhys told them, but Violet lingers a moment longer after she stands up. “Be careful, Vivian,” she advises me. “Theo’s still out there somewhere. And if what they’re saying is true, he isn’t finished with you yet.”
With that final, ominous warning, she follows my parents out of the waiting area, and I can only shake my head as I watch her go. If only she knew how true those words were.
ChapterEighteen
Sometimes the nightmares are clear, and sometimes they’re foggy. Tonight is one of those latter times, with a flood of panicked images flowing through my mind at top speed. Most of them are of Lucas, but some of them center around Theo: memories of the way he almost killed a man in front of me, of the possibility, albeit remote, that what everyone is saying about him is true. Could his passion for me drive him to violence? What kind of wrath will he rain down on London to get me back?
I come to in a panic once more. It’s becoming a nightly occasion. The only difference is, most nights I don’t wake up to a hand grabbing my shoulder.
The sleepiness vanishes in an instant, and I yell out, clawing at the arm around my shoulders as I fight to get a good look at my attacker. But before anyone can come running, a hand covers my mouth, muffling my scream. I fight to wrench free of their grip, but their arms are impossibly strong, and in the darkness, I can barely see. The EKG monitor is going haywire, but it’s too late for anyone to come investigate. A couple of seconds is all it will take.
I’m going to die here, I think. He’s found me and he’s going to finish the job—
