Page 4 of Ranger's Justice

I nod as Hollister approaches, his hand outstretched, his expression carefully arranged into something sympathetic. I force myself not to recoil.

“Cassidy,” he says, his voice warm, familiar—like he has any right. “Your father was a good man. He would want you to know that you and Sadie are safe.”

I tilt my head, meeting his gaze with all the cold calculation I can muster. “Safe from what, exactly?”

Something flickers in his eyes—just for a second. A warning. Then it’s gone, replaced by an amiable smile. “From the uncertainty of what comes next,” he says smoothly. “I’ll take care of things, Cassidy. You don’t need to worry.”

I hold his stare, my pulse pounding in my ears. If I let him, he’ll take everything my father built and twist it into something corrupt, something foul. He thinks I’m too young, too grief-stricken to do anything about it.

He’s wrong.

I force a smile. “Of course,” I say, my voice as sweet as poison.

His gaze lingers for a moment before he moves past me, placing a hand on my mother’s back as he steers her away. Sadie grips my hand tighter, watching them go.

“They’re going to take everything, aren’t they?” she whispers.

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Not if I can help it.”

As I look at Hollister—at the way he holds my mother like a possession, at the slick curve of his practiced smile—I make myself a promise.

I will find the truth.

The sky rumbles above us, the first drops of rain dotting the marble headstone that bears my father’s name. The storm is coming. But I’m ready for it.

One day, I’ll make damn sure Joseph Hollister regrets ever thinking I was just another piece on his board.

Five Years Later

I swirl the champagne in my glass, letting the bubbles fizz and pop against the crystal rim. Across the grand ballroom, Joseph Hollister holds court, his laugh booming, his hand resting at the small of my mother’s back. She smiles, polite and distant, the way she always does now. The way she has ever since she married him.

Five years, and she still doesn’t see it, or maybe she does and just refuses to admit it. Either way, the sight of them together makes my skin crawl.

“Cassidy,” a smooth voice says behind me.

I don’t startle. I’ve felt Marcus Kane’s gaze on me all night, watching, waiting.

I turn, taking in the man who has been a family friend for as long as I can remember. He’s older than me by a good twenty years, his dark hair touched with silver at the temples, his sharp blue eyes assessing. He’s never been the touchy-feely type, which is why it surprises me when he clinks his glass lightly against mine.

“Congratulations, kid.”

I arch a brow. “Kid?”

A flicker of amusement passes over his face. “Fine. Ms. MBA Graduate.”

I huff a laugh, taking a sip. Marcus isn’t just some insurance executive. His company specializes in insuring oil executives, and if they get themselves in trouble, finds a way to get them out of it. He’s a fixer, a strategist, the man who makes things happen behind the scenes. He’s the kind of powerful that isn’t loud, isn’t flashy, but makes itself known in the way people step aside when he walks into a room.

And right now, he’s looking at me like he’s been waiting for this moment.

“Got a minute?” he asks.

I set my glass down. “I thought you’d never ask.”

We step onto the terrace, the noise of the party dimming behind us. The Houston skyline glows in the distance, the air thick with summer heat.

Marcus leans against the railing, taking his time before he speaks. “I hear you’ve got offers.”

I cross my arms. “Hollister expects me to join the company.”

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