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I got to my feet, set my napkin next to the plate of uneaten food I intended to finish later, then followed my dad from the room to his office. He was always either in the home office or his bedroom. Logically, he must use the bathroom, but he wasn’t really anywhere else when he was home. Currently, he stood by the window with his hands behind his back.
“You have done such a good job. We’re making so much money.” He shot me a smile.
“Dad…” I took a long breath. “Do you know who those men are? Do you know your partners in this?” I invested money heavily, and I worried about the dealings with that crowd. “Does Zeke know you’re making them money? It’s my understanding that most of your sales come through him, right?”
He pointed at me like he might obliterate me with nothing more than his finger. “No, he doesn’t, and you’re not going to tell him.” My father paused, raising a single brow as he steepled his fingers thoughtfully. “Why this sudden interest in my business associates? We’re very rich right now, making more money by the second. Be happy with that.”
I held up my hands in surrender. “I’d never tell Zeke anything, but I thought you should know. I just…I looked them up, Dad.”
As I’d never done, not once in all the months I devoted myself to making a unique macro style of investing that was able to withstand the ups and downs of the volatile market where we found ourselves. I researched ways to move the money to offshore accounts, so the Russians could take their funds and avoid American taxes...I never asked myself who the fuck I was making money for, not before then.
But then I drank three glasses of wine last week, and I looked them up.
These were bad men. Very, very bad men.
“They blow things up, Dad. Theyhurtpeople. They’re basically terrorists, but I’m sure you didn’t know that, either. I found out they’re directly responsible for the deaths of fifteen different people from an apartment building in Moscow last month.” I wanted him to see the report I found, so I pulled out my phone.
He waved me away. Didn’t he understand? “We’re making them even richer. They use that money to…”
“To do whatever the fuck they want, Bridget. You think we get to tell people how to spend their money? It isn’t our concern. Does anyone tell us what to do? Do they get to comment on your expensive college? Or your sister’s wardrobe?”
Was he deliberately misunderstanding me? “I don’t think it’s at all the same thing, unless you’re plotting a terrorist event I don’t know about. You’re responsible for who you choose to do business with, especially if it comes down to death and destruction. We don’t have to one hundred percent agree on ethics to agree on that much, I’m sure.”
My father put his hands on the desk as the slow smile crept across his face. “But I didn’t make them any money, Bridget. Not one penny.Youdid.”
He might as well have struck me. He was right—he hadn’t earned a dime in a year. He could be a huge earner, but he wasn’t anymore. Zeke constantly sent him emails, wanting to meet about the downturn…
I swallowed.But we are very, very rich. I sat down in a chair opposite him at the desk because my legs didn’t feel steady anymore. Was it shock? Did shock feel like this? He said I was a genius, but I wasn’t. I was very,verystupid.He called it our secret project—Bridget’s secret project.
“This didn’t go through the company, did it, Dad? This…this was something else.” Icy dread seemed to wash over me in waves. Truth flooded through me, and I couldn’t believe what a fucking idiot I had been. I didn’t ask any questions, and I learned nothing. I didn’t speak to any compliance officers. I wasn’t licensed to do what I was doing, and yet here I was.
I’m a fucking terrorist.He hadn’t done a thing. It had all been me, and I looked at my hands, horrified because now I could see the blood. He saidlook at these numbers. See if you can make profit from this. I’d been so terrified I would let him down, so scared I would fail. Goosebumps had been my warning, my body’s way of trying to tell me not to do it, but I did. I did it so,sowell.
Tears flooded my eyes as I thought about all the money. “I’ve killed people.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, you didn’tkillanyone. Youmadealmost a billion dollars, that’s what you did. Be proud of yourself. You didn’t tell anyone to turn around and blow things up or kill people, so what they do with their money is none of your business.” He pointed at me. “And after Layla marries Kit, we’ll be so rich, your great-grandchildren won’t ever have to work.”
I swallowed. It might be true, but I couldn’t let that happen. Well, not all of it. I couldn’t do a thing about Layla marrying Kit, since she said she loved him.
But there was something else Icoulddo, and I intended to do it. I wiped at my eyes and stared back at him, finally sure of what I needed to do. I would tank my father. He’d never have any money again, not if I had anything to do with it.
Five years earlier
Ihated New Year’s Eve. The spectacle. The noise. My father made so much money in the last quarter of the year that he threw a giant company party he expected us all to attend. Of course, Hope wasn’t there. Apparently, she took off for a spa in the Alps, but other than a quick text letting Layla and me know she’d be unreachable, she simply vanished.
Knowing it wasn’t my business and accepting her being offline and not answering me were two different things. I sipped my champagne…technically, it would be a few more months before I would be legally old enough to drink, but that didn’t stop me from doing it anyway. I scanned the room over the rim of my glass and spotted Layla talking to Kit. They both seemed bored, but I hoped that would be over soon. I was about to lose the Allards a lot of money, so I tilted my glass toward him in a silent cheer. Not that they’d notice, per se. The Allards were the real deal of scummy, and they made their money in the worst possible ways. Their investments with my father wouldn’t rattle their bank account too badly, but hopefully it would still slow them down a bit.
My father by contrast…
I eyed him and looked away. Grinning ear to ear like he’d won something—I hated him.
Jim Willow caught my eye, and I really hated him. He seemed desperate to date me—or to get a hold of my bank account. I turned quickly, set my drink down on an empty table, then made a beeline to the other side of the room, past the dance floor. Looking over my shoulder, I checked to see if Jim followed me, then slammed right into Michael Li.
My heart caught and then plummeted into my stomach. I hadn’t known he’d be here, but he was always with my dad these days. After all, my father paid him top dollar to show up personally. In fact, my dad might even think he worked for the company, but I knew he didn’t. He owned his own security firm, but my father tended to forget people had lives outside of his interest in them.
“Hey,” Michael said and grinned at me.Wow.He looked good in a tuxedo. It fit him like it had been made to do so. Maybe it had? Michael deserved custom tailored suits as much as anyone, particularly if he looked like that in them. My core heated and I shifted my weight. He would never know it, but he was responsible for the few orgasms I had ever managed to give myself. He starred in every fantasy that worked, oddly enough.Shit.My cheeks had to be completely red.
