On My Knees (Stark International Trilogy 2)

“No.”

Stark hesitated, as if waiting for Jackson to elaborate, then seemed to realize that Jackson had said all he intended to. And why not? As far as the resort was concerned, that one word said it all.

“Charles tells me they’re going to plead you down. You’ll do community service over the next six months and walk away with a clean record. He’s talked to Reed’s people and the district attorney’s office and everyone agrees.”

“That’s right.” Sylvia had retained Stark’s lawyer, Charles Maynard, as soon as she’d learned about Jackson’s incarceration, and Jackson had to give the attorney props for doing a hell of a job.

“Fair enough. Unless you’ve already made arrangements, you can serve it at the Stark Children’s Foundation or at S.E.F.,” he said, referring to the Stark Education Foundation. Both were charitable organizations founded by Stark. The first to provide play- and sports-based therapy to victims of child abuse. The second to provide educational opportunities to low-income or otherwise unfortunate kids with an aptitude in science.

“I—thank you.” Jackson tried not to let his surprise show on his face. Neither Stark’s reaction to the arrest nor the offer to help with community service had been something Jackson would have expected from Stark. Then again, Stark wanted the resort project to run smoothly and efficiently. So helping Jackson out made sense.

“Not a problem,” Stark said. “I appreciate that you wanted to talk about this as soon as possible, but it really could have waited until morning. I’m sorry to say that around here unfortunate press coverage isn’t as rare as I’d like it to be. But it will blow over.”

Jackson glanced toward Sylvia, who was very deliberately not looking at him. But her relief was reflected in both her posture and her facial expression.

By the window, Stark glanced at his watch. “Now if you don’t mind, Nikki and I’ve had a long day and I’d like to finish up with Syl and cut her loose.” He crossed toward Jackson with his hand outstretched. “But it was good to see you, and I know that you’ll weather this storm just fine.”

Jackson hesitated, then shook his brother’s hand. “I appreciate that,” he said. “But there’s something else I need to talk with you about. It’s personal.”

“All right. Sylvia? Could you give us a moment?”

“It’s okay. She can stay. Nikki, too,” he added, because Stark clearly had no intention of asking his wife to leave.

“Fair enough.” Stark eyed Sylvia and nodded, probably assuming Jackson intended to officially tell him that Jackson and Sylvia were dating. “What’s on your mind?”

“Jeremiah Stark.”

“Well, fuck. What trouble is he stirring up now?”

“Nothing that I know of,” Jackson said. “He’s my father.”

Nikki gasped. Sylvia looked down at her shoes.

Stark didn’t move at all.

And for the first time Jackson regretted not taking Stark up on his offer to sit, because his knees were suddenly weak. Probably the result of all the oxygen being sucked from the room.

Stark’s expression didn’t change. His eyes didn’t widen. His jaw didn’t tighten. He didn’t swallow. He stayed absolutely calm and entirely unreadable. And in that moment Jackson knew exactly how Stark had been able to acquire his fortune so fast. The man had nerves of steel.

“I should have told you before I came on board the project,” he said. “But habits are hard to break, and this is a secret I’ve been told to keep for over thirty years now.”

“Then why say anything at all?” Stark’s voice was as tight as a wire.

Jackson glanced toward Sylvia, then quickly looked away. “Because it’s time.”

“I see.” A moment passed. Then another. And though Jackson tried to discern what his brother was thinking, he didn’t have a clue.

“Damien?” Nikki’s soft voice seemed to fill the room.

Stark didn’t turn to her. He kept his eyes on Jackson. And as Jackson watched, the tight, expressionless face turned human again. Stark smiled—not a genuine smile, but the kind of expression he might wear during a boardroom presentation. An expression of complete and total control—and that revealed absolutely no personal reaction whatsoever.

“I appreciate you telling me,” he said. “Now if you don’t mind, you should go. As I mentioned, it’s been a long day for Nikki and me.”

Jackson took a single step forward. “Damien—”

“No,” Stark said, and this time the word was harsh, that slight hint of emotion revealing to Jackson just how much his bombshell truly had impacted the man. “And it really is time for you to leave.”