Page 78 of The Devil's Torment

“We’re both lucky,” she says in a voice only I can hear.

“I’m relieved it’s worked out,” Laura continues, her tone-deafness shining like a freshly polished pane of glass. “I thought our Vicky would be too spunky for you. Beth was a better fit, but…” She ducks her head and swipes beneath her eye at a crocodile tear. “My poor, darling Beth. I don’t suppose you’ve discovered yet who took my baby from me?”

Uncle George pats Laura’s hand. “There, there, dear,” he says. “Don’t get upset. Our Nicholas won’t rest until he finds those responsible. Isn’t that right, Nicholas?”

Victoria pales and snatches her hand from mine. Scrambling to her feet, she mumbles, “Excuse me,” and dashes away from the table.

I glare first at Laura, then at Phillip.

“When I find out who killed Elizabeth, you’ll be the second to know.”

I barely register her query of “Second?” Tossing my napkin on the table, I mutter apologies to my father and stride after my wife.

I find her a few feet outside the dining room, her hands resting on her hips, taking cleansing breaths. Her eyes glisten with tears I can tell she’s determined not to let fall. She’s such a fighter, but I don’t want her to have to fight. I want to be her rock, the man she can rely on when she needs propping up, when she needs a defender. When she needs someone to fight forher.

“Hey.” I brush the back of my hand over her cheek. “You okay?”

It’s a dumb question. A fucking idiot could see that she isn’t, but intuition tells me that if I press her right now while her parents are a few feet away, she’ll clam up.

“Yeah.” She gives me a wavering smile. “Just them talking about Beth, you know? Brings it all back.” She clasps my hand when I go to move it, pressing my palm against her cheek.

I study her carefully, reading the tightness of the skin around her eyes, her slightly puckered mouth, the dullness of her hazel eyes behind the glaze of tears. I’m not buying what she’s selling.

“Thank you, though, for what you said. About Montague Interiors. And about me.”

“I meant every word.” Leaning closer, I kiss her forehead, then take her hand. “Shall we get this dinner over with, then we can talk?”

She doesn’t ask what about. She knows. It’s feasible that my confessions about my mother have enabled her to trust me, and with any luck, she’ll open up to me as I opened up to her.

We slide back into our seats as dessert is served. I catch Laura’s eye. My expression warns her not to say a fucking word, and lucky for her, she reads me right and buttons it. No one else mentions Victoria’s impromptu exit, either, and soon the normal level of chatter resumes.

“Fuck.”

The unexpected curse startles me. I twist my head in Christian’s direction. My brother is staring at his phone. All traces of color have drained from his face leaving him ashen.

“What’s wrong?”

His head swivels to me, then travels to Dad. The entire table falls silent.

“Christian?” Dad queries.

“There’s been an accident.” He stands abruptly, and his chair topples over. “A partial collapse of Nexus. I need to get there, now.”

Nexus is Christian’s latest project. A futuristic building aimed to attract tech start-ups in an up-and-coming area badly in need of investment south of the river. It’s been something of a pet project for him, and he’s taken more of an interest in it than he normally would, working closely with the architect and the construction firm for the past few months.

“Fatalities?” Dad asks.

“I don’t know.” Christian thrusts a hand through his hair. “I don’t fucking know.”

Dad tosses his napkin on the table and gets to his feet. “The media will be all over this if we don’t lock it down fast.”

“I’ll get on to my contacts at the news outlets,” Xan says, assuming his position as deputy CEO of our company. “See if I can’t buy us some time.”

We’re powerful, but even we can only hold the media at bay for so long, especially if there are casualties.

“I’ll make a few calls,” Uncle George says. “There are a couple of people in the right positions who owe me a favor or two.”

“Good.” Dad looks grim as he grips Christian by the shoulder. “Let’s go, son.”

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