Beauty in the Broken

I take tremendous joy in sliding the contract toward him that proves I am, as of today, the major shareholder of Dalton Diamonds, soon to become Hart Diamonds.

It takes him a while to find his words after he’s scanned over the content. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The look on his face is a moment I’ve anticipated for a long time, and I’m not disappointed. His deathly pale skin and furious, helpless expression are extremely gratifying.

“You son of a bitch.”

Taking a sip of my coffee, I lean back in the comfort of the luxurious chair. “You messed with the wrong man, Dalton.”

He slams the contract down on the table. “I’m still a shareholder.”

“Thirty percent. You’re outvoted.”

His lips curve in a nasty way. “You just dug your own hole. That dump is worthless. It’s depleted.” He turns smug. “Seems like you bought yourself into bankruptcy.”

I’m not putting my cards on the table. Not yet. I shrug. “Your daughter’s money is paying for it. What do I care?”

He fists his hands on the table. “I contest the buy-out. They had no right selling their shares without giving me a chance to better your offer.”

“You’ll be too busy filing appeals.” I hand him the letter from my lawyer.

As he reads, his hand goes to his chest. “Mis-fucking-management?” He shoots me a hateful glare. “You can’t do this.”

“You ran the operations.” I smooth a hand down my tie. “You gave the go-ahead to excavate, despite the geological reports advising against it. You knew the investment wouldn’t warrant the diamond deposits from the riverbed gravel, yet, you were too greedy to let the opportunity pass. You withheld those reports from the investors, got your buddy, Jack Clarke, to issue a new report, and sold the mine to them as inexhaustible for twenty years. Six years are up, and I give it one more. You’re every bit as accountable for the foreseen losses as what that forecast claims. I will sue you for every penny you’ve got and make sure it’s a nice, big scandal all over the news. When I’m done with you, no one in the mining industry will want to touch you with a ten-foot pole.”

He jumps to his feet. “You’re out of your fucking mind.”

I regard him calmly. “Never been saner.”

“I won’t go down, Hart.” He points a fat finger at me. “Mark my words.” With that he storms off, making the heads of the other diners turn.

He’s going down. For what he did to me, death is too easy for him. I want him to live the last years of his life in utter misery. His old-man heart better not stop beating on me, because his ruination has just begun.

Damn, I’m starving. I’m so elated I can eat two full-course breakfasts.

Lina

When I wake up, I’m alone. Damian must’ve already left for work, or that’s what I’m bargaining on. I dress quickly and go downstairs. Russell greets me cheerfully. Is the man ever grumpy?

“Do you know where Damian is?”

“Out on business. He’ll be back tonight, but if you need him, I can call.”

“No.” I add quickly, “I don’t want to bother him while he’s working.”

“Anything I can help with?”

“Nothing, but thanks.”

There’s no time to waste. I rush to the study. My anxiety about being locked in won’t allow me to close the door. Leaving it open a crack is a risk. It’s asking to be caught, but I want to work quickly, and I can’t focus when I have to vent off a panic attack.

I start with the desk, going through every drawer, not that I expect Damian to leave the evidence he’s blackmailing Harold with lying around. It’s probably in a safe or locked away, but my meticulous side demands I eliminate the unlocked and obvious hiding places. Checking for hidden keys, I go through the desk like I’d gone through Harold’s so many fruitless times, looking for clues to the whereabouts of my child, and like those times I come up empty-handed. Not in his desk. I look around the room at the paintings. Once I’ve established there are no safes behinds any of them, I lift the carpets. I tap my feet on the floorboards, listening for a change in sound that may indicate a hollow space or loosened board. Running out of hiding places, I check the folders on his desk. They’re all branded with a Dalton Diamonds logo. I’m flipping through the top one on the pile when the door suddenly opens all the way and Zane strides in.

He jerks to a stop when he sees me. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Straightening quickly, I try to keep the guilt from my face. “Looking for something.”

“I can see that. What exactly are you looking for in Dami’s files?”

I think fast. “A cheque. He was going to give me money for bat boxes.”