The Deception (Filthy Rich Americans 3)

Or I’d be in his office afterward, hoping to negotiate my way out of the corner I’d painted myself into. I figured it was best not to react in the moment. Besides, I was holding it together on the outside, but beneath my mortal surface, the gorgon inside hissed and slithered, desperate to break free of her cage. I couldn’t spring her too early, though.

The timing had to be just right.

Oddly, it seemed the closer we got to the battlefield, the more unsure Macalister became. His cold hand was clammy as it clung to mine in the elevator, and we watched the numbers tick up as we climbed into the sky. The trip to Mount Olympus didn’t take long, and when we reached the top, he dropped my hand, and his cold, confident persona snapped back into place.

He was impervious Zeus again as the doors opened and he gestured for me to exit first. He couldn’t have timed it better. Ares stepped out of his office and glanced down the hall, his gaze catching mine.

“Marist?” Royce said. His questioning look froze as he noticed the man at my side, and then my husband turned to stone.

Macalister’s smile was sinister. “I asked her to ride in with me this morning, and she graciously accepted.”

Royce pinned me with a look of hurt, and I felt the stab of it deeply, but I’d prepared myself for this. Yes, it looked like I had chosen Macalister over him, but I hoped my husband could trust me. I grabbed my wedding rings, pulling them off to the first knuckle and then reseated them on my finger. It might have looked like a nervous tick, but did he understand the meaning behind my action? We’d said as long as I wore his ring, I was with him, no matter what lies we told while other people were around.

He came back to life and set a murderous gaze on his father. “How nice for you.”

The hallway was wide and long, but the animosity between father and son filled every square inch. What would it be like when it was confined to the boardroom?

Macalister’s focus didn’t leave Royce, but it was clear he was speaking to me. “My office is one floor up. I’ll have someone show you where it is.” His statement was patronizing. “This shouldn’t take long.”

Royce’s expression was a loud fuck you to his father.

“All right,” I said softly.

When Macalister marched toward the boardroom, I followed. My heart banged so noisily in my chest, I wondered if anyone else could hear it. Royce walked behind me, bringing up the rear of the parade of Hales, and I sensed how badly he wanted to ask me what the fuck was going on.

Macalister hadn’t yet reached the open doorway when he sensed I lingered in his shadow. He stopped and turned, confusion hinting at the corners of his eyes. “You misunderstood. Wait here, and someone will be by to collect you.”

Collect me? Like I was some lost little girl? A short laugh welled up and bubbled out, masking the snarl Medusa gave as she emerged from her shell.

“Oh, no,” I said, my voice dripping with rich satisfaction, “you misunderstand.” I pointed to the boardroom. “I’ll be joining you in there.”

Irritation coursed through Macalister. “No, Marist. This meeting is closed to anyone not seated on the board. You’ll have to—”

“I’m a voting board member today, chairman.”

He would have looked less shocked if I’d slapped him. “Excuse me?”

“Mr. Shaunessy has decided to step aside and make me his proxy.” My gaze went from the older Hale to the younger one, and Royce had a similar look of disbelief. He was so handsome in his black suit and red tie, even when he was frozen in place. I smiled reassuringly at him. “I’ll see you in there, gentlemen.”

They were too stunned to stop me; not that they could, anyway.

It’d been a year since I’d been in this room, and physically it hadn’t changed. There was still the sweeping view of Boston beyond the panoramic window wall, and the long, glossy conference table in the center with tall-backed chairs gathered around it. It was cold and over air-conditioned, despite the summer heat outside, and the men seated at the table were all the same from before.

But the boardroom felt wildly different. Last time I’d stepped in here, I’d been seeking Macalister’s approval, and now he’d need mine. All the anxiety I’d had when I’d sat for the interview had been replaced with power and determination.

The board members stopped their conversations at my entrance and lifted their heads, treating me to puzzled looks. Mr. Shaunessy’s gaze quickly sank to the tabletop, heavy with dread.

“Liam,” Macalister snapped as he strode into the room behind me, followed by Royce. “What have you fucking done?”

It was like the men were seated in electric chairs and all received the jolt simultaneously. It took me a second to understand their reaction. They’d never heard Macalister curse before. Mr. Shaunessy was up out of his chair so fast, it made it spin. He couldn’t bring himself to look at his boss and stared at Macalister’s tie like it was fascinating.