Liar Liar

‘Then why am I here, Ben?’ I ask plaintively. My bottom lip begins to wobble. This is like something you see on TV, not something that happens to me.

‘Because I thought you’d be smarter. But you’re not. You’re just a dumb bitch sucked in by a rich man. And also because of bad luck.’ He suddenly stands. ‘The announcement of your engagement on top of his mother pledging her shares of Loup Industries to charity. My plans had to be accelerated. Your shares would become his,’ he snaps, pointing both hands left, then right. ‘His mother’s shares going to an outside party. Where did that leave me?’ he asks manically, pointing at himself this time. ‘I’ll tell you where. Farther away from controlling the company than ever.’ The echo of his low-pitched anger reverberates around the dank space.

‘I don’t understand. Josephine’s shares were never going to be yours. She would’ve left them to Remy if she left them to anyone.’

‘Josephine’s shares are not the issue. The issue is Remy getting his hands on your stake through marriage, making him more powerful. The issue is, that in killing him, his shares would then go to you.’

‘But we’re not even married yet.’

‘Ah, not so nice now Rose, huh? But I know what you’re thinking. Why not kill him before you’re married? Why not do so before you’d even met him, because then you’d just be a small stakeholder and his shares would be mine. Well, let me tell you, I. Have. Fucking. Tried!’

‘The motorbike and the yacht.’ Blood cools in my veins; he’s not just crazy. He’s a murderer.

‘And a couple of other times besides.’ He waves away the admission like batting off flies before linking his fingers behind his head as he stares at the ceiling as though the answer to all his problems are painted there. ‘Had that salaud done his job back in March, Remy would be dead by the side of the road and I wouldn’t have had to trash your bedroom to make it look like you packed with the hounds of hell on your heels.’

‘How can my share of the company be worth all this? Keeping me here? Making yourself a criminal—a murderer?’

‘It’s all a matter of perspective. Alone, your shares are worth nothing. But pair them with Remy and he becomes unstoppable. And unfortunately, ma petite, the point has come where I can’t try to kill him anymore. For a little while, at least. But I can stop him controlling your stake. You’re not married and therefore your shares aren’t his. You’ll go missing, driven away by grief of discovering his lies.’

‘He won’t believe that—he won’t stop looking for me.’

‘Good. If he’s otherwise engaged, that leaves more for me. You’ll stay missing, and probably presumed dead after five years have passed, and your shares, according to the Emile’s will, shall be divided between the Remy and myself. Except, he’ll already be dead by then.’

‘When his estate will go to Josephine.’

‘You underestimate the strength of our bond. I’m almost certain Remy will leave the company to me. there is such hubris and pride tied to the Wolf brand. He won’t want it to go to charity.’

‘No, it will all go to his mother,’ I hedge. ‘Not you. And then when Josephine passes, it’ll all go to charity.’

‘Oh, I don’t think so. A widowed, childless woman, stricken with grief. She’ll need someone to lean on. Someone like me. And in time, she too will die, you’re right. Maybe sooner rather than later. Maybe not.’ He affects a shrug. ‘But she her charity wishes might not come into effect by that time, by my design or from sheer gratitude. Who is to know?’

‘You are crazy. This is so wild and fantastical; ifs and buts and maybes. And for what? Money? Haven’t you got enough—more than you could spend in a lifetime?’

‘It’s not about money, you stupid bitch. It’s about power! It’s about being promised something, about being groomed to run the largest company in France, only to find it ripped from your grasp at the very end.’

‘That’s it? Jealously? You drug and bring me here. Tell me I’m going to end my days here, and for what? Because you’re not happy your cousin got the better toys?’ I find I’m on my feet, angry that I’m caught up in this web of envious macho bullshit.

‘Oh, Rose. Don’t worry,’ he replies with a gleam. ‘You’re the toy of Remy’s I’m looking forward to playing with the most. In fact, you’re the toy I intend to break first.’

50

Remy

‘No, Remy. Stop for a minute. Just think.’

‘I am thinking,’ I growl as I stalk across the home office towards him. ‘I’m thinking I should tear off your balls and shove them down your fucking throat. You should’ve had her covered by full time security.’