“Am I not allowed to check in with my beloved niece?”
“I didn’t feel verybelovedwhile running from assassins in the dead of night. We almost died.”
“Unfortunately, desperate times sometimes call for a blunt instrument. I can assure you, it was merely a business decision to round you up and prevent any further damage to our operations.”
Laughter spills out of me. “In that case, I do apologise for foiling your plan. I’m sure it would’ve been more convenient for us to die in a maize field.”
We circle several crumbling statues of well-known saints, coming to rest at a wooden bench. Jonathan gestures for me to take a seat. Eyeing him, I reluctantly sit down.
“I’m seeking a quiet resolution to all this bother, Ripley. It’s bad for business.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He sits down next to me. “I’m sure the plea deal you signed with the authorities to act as their informant has already slipped your mind.”
How the fuck does he know about that?
Jonathan waves dismissively. “Before you ask, I’m not inclined to reveal my sources. You’ve squandered the trust I once had in you. Now you’ve become a problem.”
In the distance, I can see Lennox keeping a wary eye on us, pacing with his arms folded in front of him. He looks ready tobolt over here and pummel Jonathan into the ground if he dares to try anything.
“I want you to come home, Ripley.”
I jolt in shock, staring at my uncle. “Excuse me?”
“You’ve proven your point. Good show, very dramatic. But we both know you’re knee-deep in this. Your new friends cannot be trusted. I’m offering you a lifeline.”
I thought he was just a stone-cold, power-hungry asshole, but I’m starting to wonder if my uncle is certifiably insane.
“We can weather this storm together,” he continues, laying on the faux concern. “I’d hate to see you blamed for all that has transpired. Let me help you.”
“Help me?” I scoff. “You can’t even help yourself! You’re backed into a corner along with your dickhead boss, Bancroft, and all his associates. Silencing me won’t save any of you.”
“I raised you to make smart decisions,” he tries again. “I’m offering you a chance to avoid any further bloodshed. Take it.”
Unable to stand our close proximity for a moment longer, I quickly stand, turning to shoot daggers at him. Jonathan remains seated, a leg casually crossed over and his hands clasped.
“You didn’t raise me, Jonathan. An endless parade of hired help did. I’ve been alone ever since Mum died.”
“Always so ungrateful. I took you in!”
“And treated me with disgust and contempt for my entire life!” I don’t bother trying to remain calm any longer. “You hated me before I was diagnosed and couldn’t stand the sight of me after.”
Creases form on his forehead as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “You had a chance to rule in Harrowdean, dear niece. Who gave that to you?”
“I sold my soul to survive an evil regime you helped fund.”
“And were you not safe? Protected? Able to live a privileged life behind bars?”
“You’re fucking insane! Nothing about that was privileged!”
He tuts condescendingly. “You’re still a child. Spoiled and selfish. I’ve given you everything, and this is how you repay me?”
“No, this isn’t.” I take a breath, unclench my fists then stare into his clear gaze. “I’ll repay you by tearing down Incendia Corporation and ensuring the trail of money leads straight back to you. Then we’ll be even.”
“Careful,” he warns.
“Or what?”