Page 50 of Unholy Nights

"We're not discussing me."

"No?" He settles back, clearly thinking he has the upper hand. "What makes you think Madeline would choose your concerns over my business? She needs me far more than she needs you."

I pull my phone from my pocket, scrolling through the photos Tristen just sent. "You're right about one thing. Madeline does need you." I turn the phone to show him a picture of a young girl, no more than fifteen, entering his private office. "Jessica, on the other hand... I don't think she needed what you did to her. Or Sarah. Or Amy." I swipe through more photos. "You do seem to have a type."

The color drains from his face. "Those photos are—"

"Dated and timestamped?" I smile. "Yes, they are. Along with the documentation of the payoffs to their families. The NDAs. The carefully hidden paper trail that leads right back to you."

"You're bluffing."

I set my phone on his desk, screen up. More photos scroll past—him with different underage girls, bank statements, medical records. "Do I look like I'm bluffing?"

The color drains from his face, but he rallies. "You think you're the first person to try to blackmail me? I've buried better men than you."

"I'm not trying to blackmail you, Emmitt. I'm telling you how this is going to go." I lean forward. "Tell me, have you already started grooming Emerald like the others? Those private meetings Madeline arranged—you were planning to get her alone, weren’t you?"

He flinches, caught. "You don't understand—"

"I understand perfectly. You're a predator who's gotten away with it for too long. But that ends now." I turn the phone to show him another, much worse, photo. "And these? These are just copies. The originals are in much more interesting hands."

Hands like the Savage Society’s. I don’t need to speak their names out loud; we both know who I’m referring to.

He swallows hard. "What do you want?"

"I already told you. Stay away from Emerald. And while you're at it, dissolve your partnership with Madeline. Effective immediately." I should make him leave town. I still might.

"She'll never agree to that."

"Make her." I stand, straightening my jacket and refastening the top button. "You’re good at that.” He flinches like I've punched him. I wish I had. “You have until the end of the day. If I don't see the paperwork by five p.m., these photos go to every news outlet in the state. Oh, and Emmitt?" I pause at the door. "If you ever so much as look at Emerald again, I'll do much worse than expose your crimes. Are we clear?"

He nods, sweat beading on his forehead.

"Good." I close his office door behind me, satisfaction settling in my chest.

By the time I reach my office, my phone is already lighting up with notifications. Emmitt works fast when properly motivated—the dissolution paperwork for his partnership with Delacroix Collective has already been filed. Every contract canceled, every joint venture terminated, including their precious charity auction. Madeline's social media is flooded with confused messages from donors and socialites about the sudden cancellation of her flagship holiday events.

Good. Let her scramble to maintain control while her empire crumbles piece by piece.

One threat eliminated. Two to go.

Now for the Montgomery brat.

I spendthe next few hours at my office, reviewing case files while I wait for Emmitt's dissolution paperwork. By eleven, my phone shows three missed calls from Madeline—all ignored.

I'm just wrapping up a call with one of Cole Callahan’s shell companies when my office line lights up with the Delacroix house number. Something in my chest tightens.

"Did you dream of me after I left?" I say instead of a normal greeting. Only one person would call me from that number.

"Cohen." Her voice is tight with panic that makes my blood run cold as she chokes out my name. "Daniel Montgomery is here with Mother. She's forcing me to have lunch with him and..." She’s whispering but her voice still breaks. "She says if I don't go down there right now, she's sending me to that finishing school in Switzerland. The one where they don't let you have any contact with the outside world for a year. She's already made the call."

Rage pours into my system as I stand so fast, I knock over my leather chair. I grab my keys and my phone off the desk and shove them into my pocket.

"Where are you?"

"Locked in my bathroom. Kendra’s in my room packing a suitcase.”

"Breathe for me, baby." I'm already striding toward my car in the parking lot, making a mental note to get her a phone I can track. One Madeline doesn't know about. I should have done it weeks ago. "I won't let her send you anywhere. Just hold on until I get there."

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