Page 74 of Resurrection

Lena scoffs. “I don’t understand why you take such a perverse pleasure in pissing him off.”

I take a bite of my salad while I text Jay with the other hand. There’s a line with him I can tiptoe over. Finn on the cusp of real anger is my favorite. Texting Jay right now instead of alerting him will mean Finn will find me later, and he’ll be angry with me. But nottooangry. The kind of anger fueled by his love for me, his need to protect me. Those needs lead to my needs being met in interesting ways. Me bent over a desk, pressed up against a wall, flat on my back with him murmuring how much he fucking loves me in my ear.Delicious.

So… I text Jay and give Lena an amused smile.

No time passes before Jay comes into the kitchen, his phone in his hand. “You got a beat on who is in the car?”

“Tinted windows.” I put my plate in the dishwasher.

“Finn’s on his way.” His expression is all-knowing. “He’s pissed you didn’t text him.”

I suppress my smile.

“One of these times this whole rile-him-up-and-have-him-work-out-his-anger-in-other-ways won’t go the way you expect,” he warns.

“Finn would never hurt me.”

“Not you I’m worried about.” He peers at the monitor.

My back is turned to the monitors, contemplating Jay’s words, when he lets out a low whistle. “Carys, Mrs. Van de Berg has finally stepped foot in Switzerland.”

“What?” I gasp. In the years we’ve owned this place, my mother has never ventured here. She’s aware of Lena, and my father’s mistresses around the world, so she picks her vacations strategically. She’s admitted none of her suspicions out loud. As a key member of the business, I have the locations of his long-term affairs memorized, and my mother has never gone to any of those houses.

Lena unties her apron, bundles it up, and shoves it into a drawer. “I’m going to my room.”

I nod but can’t tear myself from the screen. The woman is my mother, but her appearance is disorienting. Why would she come here?

A hand skims my spine, and lips nibble at my earlobe. A shudder of desire rocks through me, and I press myself against him. He draws me tight to his body so I’m aware of every wonderful inch.

“You should have texted me,” he growls into my ear.

“It’s my mother,” I whisper as the woman scans the house and fixes her blouse. I inherited her hourglass figure, light-brown eyes, and blondish-colored hair. When I was younger, people used to call us twins. Back then, the comparison felt like a compliment.

“Your mother?” Finn’s tone goes from angry to surprised. “Opal is here?” He peers around me to take in the screen. “Well, I’ll be damned. This can’t be fucking good.”

Jay’s walkie-talkie blares out. “I’ve got a Mrs. Opal Van de Berg at the door requesting to meet with her daughter. Can you confirm?” The security guard’s voice is professional, but he must wonder why my mother didn’t make the list of safe contacts to enter the house.

Jay yanks his walkie-talkie out of his belt. “Roger that. Show her in.” His gaze rotates between me and Finn. “I guess we’ll see why Mommy dearest decided to come for a visit.”

Has something happened to my father? I don’t dare speak the words out loud. The thought of him dead or injured should be horrifying, but it’s not.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Finn

The tension between Carys and Opal is unmistakable. They’re circling each other, current events, upcoming commitments, neither of them saying what they’re thinking. Nothing has happened to Charles—it was the first question Carys asked—which is unfortunate. With him gone, I could eliminate Eric or have someone do it. She would forgive me. Having her father wrapped up in whatever bullshit scheme they’ve cooked up makes it too complicated to get rid of one without the other. Especially since I can’t yet uncover what they’re planning. I’m on the cusp of telling her to fire Eric just to see if that sets something in motion.

With our sleuthing, there are no hints of secret deals. No more sinister connections Carys doesn’t already know. No paper trails. Unregistered or foreign bank accounts are noted somewhere. We haven’t even come across more evidence of PLA involvement with Eric or her dad. What the fuck are they planning? Opal’s here perched on Carys’s couch like a bird poised to take flight. Maybe I should ask her. Too fucking skittish for my liking.

“Well…” Her mother sips the cup of tea Jay made. “I’m not sure if your father mentioned we’re having problems.”

Carys narrows her eyes and brings her cup to her lips before glancing at Jay. “It may have come up.”

Opal sighs, and her hand shakes as she sets her teacup on the coffee table in front of us. I’ve got my arm slung around Carys’s seat. Her mother has barely acknowledged me since she arrived. She skims over me like I’m not here. That’s fine. I’m not going anywhere. She hasn’t asked about Lena, but I suspect she’ll stay hidden, and we’ll pretend she doesn’t exist.

“Well—I—I wasn’t going to tell you.” Opal twists a lock of her blond hair around her finger before tossing it behind her. “I’ve tried to ignore her. That strategy has worked for the last forty-seven years, so I thought the complication would blow over.”

Carys lets out an exasperated sigh. “Who are you talking about? In the forty-seven years you and Dad have been married, has anything ever blown over?”

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