I didn’t steal his car when I left. I didn’t even take the check that was already made out. I just put on my clothes and left. I walked for hours, hoping that I would hear his car behind me—hoping that he would track me down and drag me back to his house. I needed to be punished for leaving—punished for not fulfilling my promises. That never happened. I walked until I made it to the main road, then I kept walking until I found a gas station along the stretch of highway. I watched every car that passed, praying it would be him—hoping it would be a van with two men inside—two men that were going to make me pay for something I did wrong—but it wasn’t. All of the cars just passed me by.
My cell phone is dead but maybe the clerk behind the counter will let me make a call.
“Hello, Cassie?” I pressed the phone to my ear. “I need you to come get me…”
And just like that—my torment was over. My debt was unpaid, and it appeared that it would remain that way. Cassie had a million questions, but I couldn’t answer them. She took me back to my apartment, which was exactly the way I left it outside of the note on the door telling me that my rent was overdue. I walked into my bedroom and crashed on the bed. I never thought I would feel it again, but it felt like a slab of bricks underneath me. I didn’t deserve to sleep in a bed—not without earning my spot on the mattress. I deserved a cage. I deserved the cold marble floor. I deserved to suffer for every one of my sins until they were all paid—until my debt was cleared.
But that wasn’t my fate.
My fate was the sun, shining on my face.
My fate was the loneliness of waking up in my bed, knowing that it was all over.
This should be the happiest moment of my life, but it isn’t—I’ve been broken. And the only two men strong enough to put me back together again no longer want me.
Because I was never the one they wanted.
I was a path to vengeance that never existed in the first place.
I did plenty of things to end up in that cage.
Except for the one thing that could keep me there.
Mauro
Later that day
“She was gone?” I looked up at Reynard when he walked into my office. “Just—gone?”
“Gone.” He nodded in confirmation. “She left sometime during the night and she didn’t even take the check—it was right beside her clothes. There’s no way she didn’t see it.”
“Fuck…” My words trailed off. “Maybe it’s for the best. We’ve got the SEC chomping at the bit this morning. I got the call from Fisk—they’re already opening an investigation.”
“I really need to go to Chicago. I need to track Hannah down and get some answers.” Reynard exhaled sharply.
“Fisk says we shouldn’t leave—not right now. It’ll look like we’re trying to run.” I shook my head back and forth. “As if we could even run from this fucking problem.”
“Josef Weber has been planning this for a while. Fuck! I played right into his fucking hands.” Reynard slammed his hand on my desk. “Son of a bitch.”
“This trap was laid for some time, but I don’t think it was meant to be a trap. There’s no way he started this a decade ago when Wyatt and our alleged sister set up that agreement. I have a theory…” I exhaled sharply.
“Okay.” Reynard nodded.
“I think Wyatt found out about our sister—I don’t know how, but I think he tried to make things right—in his own way.” I tapped my desk with my fingers. “I’ve been doing research, and a lot of the companies that the money was being funneled into weren’t always owned by Josef Weber. He’s been acquiring them over the last few years.”
“If they were just decoy companies that Wyatt set up to funnel money to our sister, then they shouldn’t have been companies that were on the market.” Reynard shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s a good theory, but there’s still something we’re missing here.”
“I agree.” I nodded quickly. “But we’re stuck now. We’re just going to have to let this shit with the SEC play out and see what we can do when it’s over.”
I stared at the screen for most of the day, watching our stock plummet. The last offer Josef Weber made would have been a good deal by the time Wall Street finished one day of bloodshed. Investors that we took from Josef Weber left in droves—and they weren’t the only ones. We were losing longstanding accounts. I had a pretty good idea where they were going—straight to their new messiah—the man we tried to take down by dropping nukes on his operation. The bloodshed wasn’t over either. The few investors that stayed behind, even if they were driven by blind loyalty, were going to leave when the markets opened again.
The press ate up the story like it was candy for headlines—and that’s basically what it was. They wanted to know who the mysterious Jackson heir was—they weren’t the only ones. I wanted an answer to that question myself. Ashton Retirement Fund was registered to Hannah Ashton, but she was a ghost. I doubted it was her real name. The money was being funneled into the shell companies, and from there, the checks could have been made out to anyone. The SEC was definitely
going to shut them down, but I doubted that would matter much. They were in the red and had always been that way—the instant the money went in, it was taken out.
Josef Weber must have figured out that Wyatt was funneling money into those shell companies—then he started buying them. I just don’t understand why Wyatt didn’t come to me. I could have helped him, even if he was in over his head—he certainly didn’t need to take his own life.
“The press keeps calling…” Abigail walked into my office. “They want a statement—something besides the damage control piece we sent out.”