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We’d told no one we were coming, including Francois. I still wasn’t certain the contract was legal, although without getting the family’s attorney involved, we wouldn’t know the actualramifications. That would come later if we didn’t determine the contract was bogus.
As I climbed from the car, a flash in the window above caught my eye. I looked up, noticing Zoe standing in front of the window. She pressed her hand on the glass, providing a sense of solidarity.
Arman noticed, slowly tilting his head. He didn’t look at me or say a word, moving toward the front entrance instead. We were both tense, just for entirely different reasons.
I took a deep breath, glancing at the woman I adored one last time. A significant part of me dreaded telling her we’d be leaving for Texas by the morning if not sooner. It all depended on how Jean Baptiste handled the accusations and our conversation with him. I shifted my gaze to the file, a copy of the contract inside. The other had been secured in Arman’s safe to ensure not only did we have evidence but that if anything happened to him, I could still discover the truth one way or the other.
He’d made me promise on Zoe’s life that I would keep her from marrying Devin’s son. It was a promise I intended on keeping.
Exhaling, I headed inside, noticing Arman was headed toward the back. I followed, noticing Arman had found his father out on the screened-in porch, a location Jean Baptiste loved on sunny days.
As I moved into the room, I gave the patriarch a nod of respect as I always did. He immediately stood, obviously delighted to see his son.
“Arman. I am so glad to see you’re alright,” Jean Baptiste said. “Although I was surprised you chose to return home. Your wife and son need you.”
“And I need them. I also need the truth.” Arman shoved his hands in to his pockets, glancing in my direction before heading to one of the screen panels, staring outside at nothing.
“Truth about what?” Jean Baptiste barked, obviously noticing the look we’d shared.
I moved closer to his father, handing him the file, keeping my fingers in position. “About your promise made to Devin Carlos.”
“What promise?” he growled, but as with Arman, I could tell he was holding something back. He glared at me before snatching the file from my hands.
Both Arman and I gave him time to both look through and digest the terms of the contract. For Zoe’s hand in marriage, Devin had agreed to share partnership in both the Thibodeaux holdings in Texas as well as a similar percentage of Devin’s holdings in Texas and New Mexico. If the alliance had been agreed to under any other set of circumstances, it would have been considered a damn good situation. However, this wasn’t just an ordinary business deal.
Jean Baptiste almost faltered, his chest rising and falling as he read it over more than once. “What the fuck is this?” he finally asked.
“You tell me, Pops.” Arman didn’t bother facing his father.
“Is this some kind of joke?”
I took a deep breath as I studied Jean Baptiste. He was genuinely shocked, which is what I’d expected, or maybe what I’d hoped would occur. “So you did not enter into this agreement with Mr. Carlos?”
“Are you fucking out of your mind?”
He words held an air of truth regarding his granddaughter, but he was still hiding something.
“Then the bullshit phone calls you had with Devin were made by an imposter. Right, Dad?” Arman hissed.
Jean Baptiste’s eyes opened wide. He carefully placed the folder on the table and headed toward the back of the porch himself. “I talked to Devin.”
“About my fucking daughter!”
“No! That is not the kind of man I am.”
“Then what the fuck were you talking to Devin Carlos about and why in God’s name is your signature on that contract selling off my daughter as if she was a commodity and nothing else?”
Jean Baptiste cursed in French under his breath, words that didn’t need a translator to understand. He was as angry as both of us were. “I was trying to keep our investments from going south in Texas. Francois is a good businessman yet even he can’t fight Devin and his hold on the politicians, lawmen, and ranchers in that fucking state. Devin and I were close to an agreement.”
“When the fuck were you going to tell me, Pops? Huh? I’m the CEO, the Kingpin of this fucking family organization. If you didn’t want me to take over, then why the fuck did you hand me the regime in the first place?”
“Because you deserved it. And because… because my doctor told me if I didn’t slow down, I was going to have a stroke. Your mother insisted.”
Arman turned to face his father, shaking his head. “You had so much pride you didn’t want to tell me?”
“I don’t know, son. What I do know is that the contract was forged.”
“So you don’t think Devin was trying to have the deal sweetened?” I asked. “And did you sign anything with him?”
