Page 72 of Break My Rules

“Mother, you can’t say that.” I blink, surprised by her cool tone about Valerie’s death. Could she know about the affair, after all?

“I simply meant it was a shame that she won’t see her work come to fruition,” my mother says, then furrows her brow. “Why, what did you think I meant?”

“Nothing. Is Dad around?” I ask, changing the subject.

She waves vaguely towards his office, at the back of the ground floor. “He’s been on the phone all day, trying to reassure investors that this won’t disrupt anything. The stress can’t be good for him. And remind him to drink his green juice,” she adds, calling after me. “And not just pour it in the plant pots, like he’s been doing all week!”

I head down the hallway and knock on my father’s closed door.

“Come in.”

I enter and find him wrapping up on a phone call. He nods, gesturing me to make myself comfortable, as he keeps talking, seated in his favorite leather wingback chair.

“No, Lionel, this doesn’t change a thing. It’s a tragedy, of course, but the research was a team effort. We have an excellent team over there, and we’re still right on track for announcement of the trial results… Mhmmm… Yes, exactly. Give my love to Carole.”

He hangs up, meeting my eyes with a sigh. “It’s been nonstop all day,” he says. “The teams at Ashford, investors, everyone's jumpy about what this means for the company. But I’ve been telling them, everything’s fine. She was a talented woman, of course,” he adds hurriedly, “but the bulk of her duties were at the start of the project, the Alzheimer’s research and drug design. Now that we’re finished with the trials, there are plenty of other people who can step up and finish the work.”

I frown. He’s speaking awfully dispassionately about the death of the woman he was sleeping with. The woman he was keeping in luxury, funneling money from the Ashford company accounts.

“So what happened, exactly?” I ask, leaning forwards.

He looks away. “The police said it was an accident, she spun off a wet patch on the road and went straight into a pylon.”

It sounds simple enough, but there’s something in his expression that makes me pause. “Dad?” I prompt him, and he lets out a sigh.

“She may have been a little… Emotional. I went over and ended things with her, like you said,” he explains. “She turned hysterical, crying and carrying on. I tried to calm her, but she wouldn’t listen, so I thought it best that I leave.” He sighs again. “I don’t know what she was thinking, haring around so late at night. But the police said there were signs she’d been drinking, so…” he trails off, and swallows hard. “Tragic. Just tragic.”

I sit back. This makes sense, at least. Valerie seemed like a calm, level-headed woman, but if she was angry and distressed, and had been drinking… There’s no counting on what she might have done.

But still… It feels like there’s something my father isn’t telling me.

He gets up, going to rearrange some papers on his desk. “How was France?” he asks brightly. “Did you and Tessa have a nice break? You shouldn’t have cut it short, we’ve all got things handled here.”

The message is clear: Subject closed.

“Yes, nice,” I reply blandly, getting to my feet. “Thanks.”

“Good seeing you, son.” He gives a thin smile. “And don’t worry about what happened with Valerie. We’ll get through it. I promise, nothing’s going to spoil this launch.”

I show myself out. I shouldn’t be surprised by my parents cool-blooded response to Dr DeJonge’s death. After all, they’ve put Ashford first my entire life: the family name, our legacy, and the company, too.

Even so, it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. My father looked more relieved than anything else, to have Valerie out of the equation again, and all anyone can think about is her death’s potential effects on the big new drug announcement. Not the fact that a brilliant woman just passed away, too soon, and has probably left a grieving family behind.

But this is the reason I’ve kept clear of the Ashford business for so long. It has a way of turning you cold inside, making everything second place to what the family needs.

Not me. I know what my first priority is now—and my second and third.

It’s Tessa.

Always Tessa.

But as I get on the road and start my drive to Oxford, I remember the desperate fury in her eyes as she interrogated Max—and the way she seemed so defeated this morning, knowing we were back at square one in her investigation. I hate seeing what it’s doing to her, this endless battle for the truth. It’s tearing her apart inside.

How long can we go on like this?

Chapter18

Tessa

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