Dad was here, in the décor and furnishings of this office. I’d honored his memory and changed little. Wanting to keep his memory alive. From the photos of him and Mom on the walls to the family captured in snapshots from earlier years.
Time had stopped in this room—paralyzed by this need to remember.
Remember what he’d stolen.
Sitting before my iMac, scanning my emails, sending off a few, and answering urgent questions that Cassandra Harding, my CEO, couldn’t answer. I let her micromanage when I was busy with other more pressing details.
Like now—having a Glassman beneath my roof.
Which was understandably distracting.
Not to mention she was extraordinarily beautiful. A decadent gift I’d exploit to wreak hell on her father.
After he’d torn his hair out in frustration and her mom broke down from losing her daughter. It was a decent start.
Searching my contacts, I hunted down the best person to offload the gold to and then turn it into liquid cash. The bullion deal would need some finagling. After all, it was engraved with its unique marking and would be easy to track. They’d have to melt it down and reconstitute it. But it was possible. The value would drop, but it would be worth the trouble.
Ridley pushed open the door—so much for stealing a few hours of peace. He wore that gray suit he had tailored for him on Bracken Street. The one he liked to wear when he saw his best clients.
He was also wearing his familiar pissed-off expression. The bastard got hazard pay. What more did he want?
“I’m busy,” I snapped.
“It will just take a second.”
I continued typing. “No.”
“Did you kill him?”
He was obviously referring to the man who’d tipped me off to the fact Glassman was spending more time in the Garden District. The same man who’d gatecrashed my sister’s wedding.
“We were going to let the police handle him, remember?” he said.
“Oh, that’s what you meant.”
He snapped his hand up, not wanting to hear any more.
“Thanks for stopping by.” I threw in a wave.
“Were you in the Garden District this morning?”
I feigned having to think about it.
“There’s a rumor,” he began slowly, “I know it’s not true. Because it would be fucking reckless.”
“You have to admit, I wear reckless so damn well.”
“You kidnapped Anya Glassman?”
Sitting back, I studied him, relishing his discomfort with the idea.
He looked horrified. “Glassman will come after her.”
“That’s the plan.”
“Right, because that makes perfect sense to set a trap for a psychopathic arms dealer!”
“Enjoy the show. Should be fun. I’ll even provide popcorn if you’re lucky.”
“This is nothing but an old grudge, Cas.”
“I don’t need to explain myself to you. You know what he did. You know why he deserves his life to be taken apart piece by piece.”
“Abhorrent, I agree, but—”
“Why are you here? As you can see”—I gestured around the room. “I’m busy. Tell me what you want so I can go about my day.”
“What do I want? I’d like to stay alive if you don’t mind.”
“Then go.”
“Your sister deserves better.”
“When this is over, she’ll be able to feel safe for the first time in her life.”
“He’ll put a bullet through your brain.”
Considering he’d threatened to do that to me years ago, it was old news. “I have his gold.”
“Where did you find it?”
I ignored that. “At least fifty million.”
“What were you thinking?”
“Honestly, I was thinking that’s a lot of fucking gold. So I took it.”
He dragged his fingers through his hair. “Don’t tell me anymore.”
I suppressed a smirk at Ridley’s reaction as I pushed up from my chair. “Glassman won’t find her until I want him to.”
“He knows you have her.”
“That was the point.”
“Where is she?”
“Why?”
“I want to see she’s still alive.”
“She is.”
“I’m not leaving until I see her.” He pointed a finger at me. “You’ve gone too far this time.”
“That’s not strictly true.”
“If she’s hurt. . .”
“She’s fine.” For now.
“I don’t trust you.”
“For God’s sake.” I gestured for him to follow. “Come on.”
We headed out and into the hallway. When we made it to the foyer, he gave me a quizzical look. Then stood back, waiting for me in the center.
I walked back his way. “I’m showing you out,” I said. “I’ll be in touch.”
“I’m not leaving knowing an innocent woman is locked up here.”
“She’s not innocent.” I gave a gesture of that’s just how it was.
“She’s eighteen, Cas.”
“Old enough to know about her father.”
“Look, I know what that man did to you was. . . that he. . .” Ridley looked away, not wanting to say it. “Your father wouldn’t want you to be this man.”
“Had my father given Glassman what he wanted, my parents would still be alive.”
“Your father did the right thing. You know that in your heart.”
“What heart?”
Ridley huffed in frustration. “What are you going to do with her?”
“You don’t want to know. Right? As my attorney.”
He swallowed back his words. “It’s her father you want.”