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When he made the comment about him knowing how I operate—that he is my father—after all, I know what he was referencing. My own climb to the top of what is now called Emerald Cross Ventures, a commercial real-estate development firm—yes, like father, like son, almost—took several years. I didn’t destroy anyone to get to where I got.
Well, not anyone who didn’t deserve it, at least. I was more discriminating than my father, but I do admit to similarities.
So, he is right in some regards. I am like him. I also inherited his talent for numbers. For business and finance. For the deal.
Ethan doesn’t have an ounce of that. I wonder if it bothers Sly. It must. His acknowledged son is an idiot, essentially. He will only get ahead on his name and his inheritance—of which, if I have anything to say about it, won’t be much. If anything, Ethan is inadvertently helping me by burning through his trust at super-human speed. I blame that on Mira. She coddled Ethan, which is another thing Dad and I agree on.
I’m guessing that if it was left up to Ethan alone, he’d bankrupt the family in his lifetime. But I can’t wait for that. Sullivan Fox is my target. Ethan is just a bonus.
The loan Sly needed—the one I generously provided—injected blood into a firm on the brink of bankruptcy. If I hadn’t stepped in, they might have died out naturally, but what would be the point in that? I want Sly to know it was me who hammered the nail into his coffin. I want him to feel those consequences he’s always been so fucking happy to dish out.
What Hart built over years was a solid, lucrative business that he also managed to do good with. It’s one of those things about Hart that I come back to, a savinggrace. Horatio Hart never lost sight of his roots. He was proud of them.
Sly Fox, even though he came from the same background as Hart, was the opposite—distancing himself, hating that part of himself.
When the embezzlement charges were filed against Hart and then, a few months later, Fox, it essentially destroyed Hart’s finances. Sly had other businesses in addition to the joint venture, so although it sullied his name, it didn’t destroy him. But it did damage him financially, which is why he needed that infusion of cash that I was able to offer him when no bank would touch him after the bad press.
I turn onto the driveway of the Hart house and drive up the long incline, parking the rented SUV out of sight. Although the Foxes will already have left for the gala, I don’t want to take a chance anyone might see me. I am breaking and entering, after all.
The temperature is freezing. I’m in a tux, but don’t bother to put on my coat. I won’t be here that long. I make my way toward the porch, remembering how cozy it was when the Harts lived here. Now, debris has collected in the corners and the single chair left out here has toppled in the wind. I’d prefer to use the back entrance, but the lockbox containing the key is hanging on the front door, so here I am. I punch in the code Nigella had acquired from the realtor and the box opens. From inside, I retrieve the key and slide it intothe lock to open the front door. Once inside, I close it behind me and pocket the key.
The house is dark. I’m grateful for the moonlight shining in through the bare windows and off the snow on the ground. Boxes are stacked high, carpets rolled up, furniture that wasn’t sold to cover legal fees wrapped in moving blankets. I walk through the living room feeling a sense of loss, a sense of life passing by. A past being erased. I wonder if that’s how Ophelia felt when she saw this because I’m sure she’s been here since the packers came. No way she’d stay away.
I make my way up the stairs first. Six bedrooms up here. The Fox house used to be a mirror image of this one, but you’d never recognize the old house in the monstrosity they built. This house once had a warmth theirs will never have.
I go directly to Ophelia’s bedroom, remembering the day I moved into the cottage next door.
Strangely enough, I spy the binoculars sitting on top of one of the moving boxes. I take them to look out over the trees shivering in the wind in this wintry, forgotten garden. I take in the sheer barrenness of the place next door. It feels emptier than this empty house. It hadn’t always been that way and I didn’t think I’d feel the way I do now that I’m here, now that I am so close to having what I always wanted.
The meeting last night, too, had felt different than I’d expected. There was no joy, no elation, at this crucial step in the toppling of Sly Fox. There’s anirrational part of me that wants to blame Sly for that, for stealing even that from me. It’s not that he’d participate in his own downfall if he had any choice.
I need to recenter myself. I’m almost there, almost at my end goal. The destruction of the Foxes is near, and I need to stay focused because Sullivan Fox is a sharp, cunning man. He’ll be watching for weaknesses, and he will exploit any holes he sees. My interest in Ophelia Hart can become a weakness if I’m not careful.
The moon, which had vanished behind a cloud, reappears. I catch my reflection in the window. I haven’t worn a tux in a very long time. Mom used to get a kick out of it, us dressing up to attend a charity or event. It was never where we were supposed to end up, and I know she enjoyed it. She was almost giddy at times. She never got to experience those things until the end of her life and for that, I’m sorry. I wish she’d had more time to enjoy living.
I check the time on my Rolex, a gift from my mother, which was the most extravagant thing she’d ever bought. It wasn’t like Esmerelda Cruz, and when she saw the surprise on my face when I opened the box, she smiled in that way of hers. There was some life lesson she was going to impart and it was right there on the inscription.
No matter how much time changes things, never forget who you are.
I still recall our conversation.
“Wherever you go, never forget, Silas. Time passesquickly, and it’s easy to forget yourself. To forget to look after those who truly need it, especially when one has so much.”
“Mom, I work hard.”
“I know, my darling. I know. But life is not forever. Don’t lose yourself.”
She knew she was sick then. She just hadn’t told me yet.
“I don’t ever want you to wake up one morning and realize you’ve wasted your life on things that don’t matter.”
I set the binoculars down on the seat and turn away from my reflection. Would she think this doesn’t matter? My revenge on the Foxes? Yes. She would. But I console myself with one fact as I head out of Ophelia’s old, freezing bedroom and get to the task at hand. I still have a gala to attend, after all.
Things have changed. This isn’t solely about revenge anymore. She’d want me to protect Ophelia from them.
Ophelia isn’t like them. She’s innocent. I know that now. The ends will justify the means.
I tell myself that as I navigate around the boxes in this house with its creaking floorboards. I don’t go through all the rooms. I just wanted to see hers before I do what I really came to do.
