Page 153 of Morally Black Betrothal
“Anyway,” Selena went on, “I had Kylie with me because I didn’t have anywhere else to take her.”
“What about Ginny?” I asked through my teeth. “I sent her to help.”
“Who? Oh, you mean Mary Poppins. I told her to scram when she started suggesting I get rid of my gummies. Excuse me for using perfectly legal modes of chilling the fuck out.”
Simone sucked in a breath, and I joined her, though I was pretty sure the grip I had on Simone’s thigh was going to leave a bruise if her sister went on like this.
“Anyway, the maid took Kylie to do some coloring or some shit while Ezra and I talked. I didn’t think anything of it…”
“Keep going,” I prompted her, my heart sinking into my stomach. It was like listening to the part of a horror story where a couple enters a deserted cabin in the woods.
“He told me he knew about you two. And then he said that if my twin sister was getting married to someone who had ‘fucked with him for the last time,’ then he needed a piece of the pie you’d already taken. I asked what he meant by that, and he said he wants part of Blackguard Holding.”
“That’s fuckin’ absurd,” I said. “I’ve never done business with Ezra Huntington. Ever.”
“That’s what I said!” Selena cried. “But then, he pointed out the window, and I saw this gorilla-sized dude taking Kylie from the maid and leading her to a van. I tried to leave, but they’d locked me in!”
“Selena, my God.” Simone pressed a hand to her mouth as a tear slid down her face.
“All I could do was listen. He took all the money, and then he told me not to go to the cops or he’d kill me and Kylie. And then said I had to come straight to you with his demands or I’d never see Kylie again.”
By the time she was done, her tears were streaming freely again, along with the rest of her makeup.
Well, I couldn’t judge her crying. She’d just lost her own kid, after all.
“Can they do that?” Simone questioned me more than her sister.
“The Huntingtons play by their own rules,” I acknowledged grimly. “Tell me exactly what they want.”
Selena reached into the pocket of her too-tight jeans and handed me a piece of folded-up paper. “He wrote them down. He wants a private meeting with you.”
Simone and I read the note together.
Ezra Huntington had some fucking stones. To begin with, he was demanding things that would require more than just me to acquire. A board seat, for one. Billions in company shares, plus a whole lot more money that even I didn’t have liquid.
Simone’s face broke. Something in my chest broke with it.
“I’ll take care of all this.” I stood up and shoved the paper into my pocket. “I promise you, Iwillget your niece back, all right? They won’t hurt her—she’s collateral. In the meantime, Simone, show Selena one of the guestrooms, all right?” I hated to keep this viper in my house one second longer, but the truth was, she was more of a liability outside.
“Really?” Even through those so-called tears, Selena’s eyes lit up as she looked around my office.
What did the luxury of my penthouse matter at a time like this? She could not have been more different from Simone if she tried.
“Thank you,” Simone murmured as she stood beside me.
I slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. It was the least I could do, but not just because I wanted her to stop looking so sad.
The reality was that this was a lot more complicated than she or Selena knew.
Because what they didn’t know was that after a week of trying, I had finally been able to get through to the LLC buying the bad mortgages and had managed to repurchase the farm’s mortgage back for a stupidly high price from none other than The Huntington Group, owned by Bas Huntington and his good-for-nothing son, Ezra.
35
YOU, ME, AND A RANSOM
Brendan
There were days I wondered if I was missing something. An essential piece that made others human.
