Ruthless Rival (Cruel Castaways 1)

I nodded. “I got a theory about that too.”

“Yeah?”

“When I was a junior at Andrew Dexter, I got a job as a stable boy and met Alice—my so-called cougar, as you like to call her. Suddenly, I was in close proximity to money and lived the rich life, even if by proxy. One summer break, when I was in New York, I bumped into Ruslana. I drove around in Arsène’s Bentley and wore his rich-asshole attire, head to toe. Ruslana flung herself over me and kissed me. She made a scene. I peeled her off me and told her I’d try squeezing her into my New York plans, but of course that never happened. She began writing to me after that. I never replied. She must’ve taken my silence as a test of her determination, because the more time had passed, the more she felt compelled to tell me everything that happened to her. I still have the letters. They were in the manila file. I don’t know if you read them. She said she had a long affair with Conrad. That he had promised to leave Beatrice for her. Said when she began to doubt his intentions, his assurances, she told Conrad that she was going to tell Beatrice herself. He got rough with her, pushing her around. Apparently, it wasn’t the first time he’d put a hand on her.”

“That’s how you knew everything about him was true.” Arya pressed a hand against her chest. “Knew that Amanda and the other accusers were telling the truth.”

I nodded. “Ruslana and Conrad went back and forth for a few months. Finally, he fired her and gave her hush money. A measly ten-thousand-dollar check to keep her mum. She spent it in about a week and wrote to me that she went to see him again to ask for more. That was her last letter before I got the call from the police that she was dead.”

“How did she die?” Arya asked.

“The official medical cause cites a broken neck. In practice, she got thrown off the Palisades cliff. The cop who told me about her death said they suspected no foul play. That it was a classic suicide case. My mother hadn’t been known as the happy-go-lucky type, and she did lose her job that same month. But it was a bunch of nonsense. Ruslana hated heights. She’d flown one time in her life, and even if she were suicidal, which she wasn’t, she would have preferred any type of death over that one. Drowning, slitting her wrists, a bullet to the temple. You pick.”

“You think my dad was behind it?” Arya’s eyes flared.

“Short answer? Yes. Long answer? To an extent, but I’m not sure who were the key players in what happened.”

“Then he should be tried for that too.”

She wasn’t wrong. But in Conrad’s case, I knew losing everything around him—his money, his status, his kid—was punishment enough. Wandering the world a penniless reject would be more of a punishment for a man like him than sitting around with shamefaced criminals like himself in prison.

“There’s no way for me to prove it, not without revealing my true identity, at any rate,” I replied.

“Regardless of what’s happening, I’m sorry you lost her.”

“I’m not. She was a shit mother.”

“And you want to tell me that after everything Conrad did to you, this move with Amanda Gispen wasn’t calculated?” She knotted her arms over her chest.

“Correct.” I sidestepped to let a woman with a stroller pass by, my mind immediately drifting to Arya with a baby. Dammit. The floodgate was open now, and even a sandwich reminded me of her. “I believe Conrad did something to my mother—or at least sent someone else to do it—but the way I see it, it was never my problem. The day she gave up on me, I gave up on her. I went ahead and found new friends, a new family, a woman who gave me what my mother failed to, and I’m not talking about the money here. I’m talking about courage, confidence, and the mental leg up. Someone who told me what I wanted from life was within reach.”

When I moved back to my spot on the sidewalk, I made sure I was a little closer to Arya than I’d been before. Just a smidge. “No part of me wanted to return to New York. I wanted to stay in Boston. Maybe head down to DC and dirty my hands up in politics. New York has always reminded me of the Roths, of my mother turning her back on me, of that disastrous first kiss. But fate had it that Arsène is from New York and actually likes this hellhole. Riggs is from San Francisco, but he seemed eager to never set foot in the place again. He was all too happy to move into Arsène’s monstrous, rent-free condo. I didn’t want to stay behind. They were the only real family I’d known, so I tagged along. Believe it or not, I worked damn hard to keep my distance from you and yours. My worst nightmare was you or Conrad walking into my life once more and screwing it up. But when the case dropped on my desk, I couldn’t stop myself.” I licked my lips. “We both know I yield to temptation from time to time.”