Page 102 of Gilded Locks
Stone led them deeper into the lodge, past the common areas and ballrooms where members might normally gather. Marigold followed their journey on the monitors, Cole tracking with expert knowledge of the controls as the images alternated on the screens as they moved.
When Stone guided them to what looked like a conference room, elegant, private, with no obvious exits except the door they’d entered through, Ash was waiting. Her heart fluttered with uncertainty and an urge to see this through as quickly as possible.
The men entered casually, Hunter and Ash standing near floor-to-ceiling windows that offered views of the storm-lashed landscape. They looked exactly like themselves, wealthy, powerful men accustomed to getting their way.
“My partners,” Stone said simply. “Hunter and Ash Volkov.”
Jordan’s eyes sharpened with interest. “I assumed the big one was part of security.”
“No,” Hunter said, his obsidian gaze narrowing on the target.
“Volkov, did you say?” Jordan was already calculating how to use these men, how to leverage whatever they wanted against his sister’s inconvenient truths. Her brother moved forward with predatory confidence. “Family loyalty goes a long way in business.”
“Indeed,” Stone rumbled, his accent thick as honey. “Family loyalty is everything to us, Mr. Calder.” Dark meaning seethed behind his words, but Jordan was too arrogant to think his statement might also include Katya. The fool probably didn’t even realize they had a sister.
“Absolutely.” Jordan’s smile was brilliant. “Which is another reason why I’m here. Marigold’s family, and family protects each other. Even from themselves.”
The audacity was breathtaking. He was positioning himself as the protective brother while simultaneously planning to have her lobotomized into compliance.
“Stone’s caught us up to speed after your brief conversation,” Ash said. “But perhaps you could clarify your sister’s motives for running away. She was rather distraught when she arrived.”
“Was she?” His smirk proved he enjoyed any hint of a struggle. “I’d like to know how she gained entry to such an exclusive club in the first place. As her brother, I take her safety very personally.”
“I’m sure,” Hunter said with zero inflection, his jaw twitching with tension.
“Tell me,” Jordan continued, settling into a leather chair like he was holding court, “what exactly has my sister told you about her situation?”
“She mentioned family conflict,” Ash said quietly. “Some unpleasantness that led to her seeking treatment.”
“Unpleasantness.” Jordan’s laugh was bitter. “Is that what she called it? The poor thing has been having episodes for months. Paranoid delusions about... well, frankly, about me. She’s convinced I’m some sort of monster.”
“And you’re not?” Stone’s voice was perfectly level.
“Of course not.” Jordan spread his hands in a gesture of wounded innocence. “I’m her older brother. I love her and only want the best for her. But Marigold has always been... mentally fragile. Emotional. She sees patterns that aren’t there, conspiracies where none exist.”
Inwardly, Marigold recoiled. Hunter’s gaze looked directly into the hidden camera as if looking into her eyes and silently telling her not to listen, but she couldn’t shut him out now. Jordan’s words depicted her as an unstable woman who ran head-first into dangerous situations with no thought to consequences.
She stared at the screen, her vision blurring under tears of fury. She didn’t want them to hear such horrible lies. What if they believed him? What if Jordan convinced them she was broken and they no longer?—
Hunter shook his head. It was subtle and brief, but it was the command she needed. That single look grounded her as much as any verbal command could. He held so much authority in his stare, so much control. As she drowned in the depths of those obsidian eyes, she knew they weren’t buying any of Jordan’s bullshit lies and were still—one hundred percent—on her side.
Marigold sucked in a unsteady breath and blew it out slowly. This was about trust and justice. They trusted her. Believed her. And Jordan would pay for his lies and crimes. She believed that with all her heart, and trusted her men to protect her.
The lies rolled off Jordan’s tongue with unhindered ease. He was a pathological con artist.
Leaning forward, he adopted the tone of a concerned sibling sharing painful family secrets. “The truth is, she’s been obsessed with me for years. Romantic fixations, the doctors call it. When I started seeing someone seriously, something in Marigold broke. She started making wild accusations, claiming I’d hurt other women. Total fantasy, of course, but a dangerous one.”
The lies came so smoothly, wrapped in just enough truth to be believable. Nausea churned in her stomach as she listened to him twist the facts. He was using her attempts to protect other girls as evidence of instability.
“Romantic fixation,” Hunter repeated slowly. “For her own brother?”
“Half-brother,” Jordan corrected quickly. “Different mothers. But yes, the psychological dynamics are... complex. Dr. Morrison has extensive experience with such cases.”
The psychiatrist, a thin man with cold eyes, nodded gravely. “Erotomania, combined with persecutory delusions.”
“Erotomania?” Stone repeated.
“Excessive sexual desires,” the doctor spoke in a condemning tone. “The patient becomes convinced that the object of their fixation shares their cravings. They often exhibit erratic, sometimes life-threatening behavior due to simultaneously desiring an unavailable bystander.” He made it seem as if Jordan were completely innocent in this festering stew of lies. “They can create elaborate fantasies of... shared obsession.”
