RAGE

Part 2

M J   R I L E Y

Copyright © 2014

All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter One

Charlotte felt sick inside.

Her brother. Her brother.

For a moment, she fought to catch her breath. Her father could be lying. It wouldn't be the first time he'd attempted to shock her over to his side. Somehow, it seemed more probably that her father would lie to her than the man she loved would manipulate her…only to be her own flesh and blood.

It couldn't be.

Suddenly dizzy, she gazed around the room at all those assembled. The impossible to shock Adeline looked slightly green, her father smugly amused, the two guards that accompanied him stolid and expressionless, and David…David looked somewhere between disgusted, enraged, and completely confused.

“You're a fucking liar.” Charlotte winced at the epithet coming from David’s lips. She'd rarely heard David curse. He didn't seem the type. Then again, he didn't seem to type to hack into her files and try to steal information either. “I knew you were scum, but I had no idea you'd sink so low,” continued David.

“Me?” Emerson barked a laugh. “You're the one who waltzed in here and went into your own sister's bed. All in an attempt to try to bring my company down.”

Charlotte was still totally confused. How could she have a brother? As far as she knew, she was an only child, and her mother had died before she was a year old.

“Dad,” she started, her voice trembling slightly, “what the hell are you talking about?”

“Let me spell it out for you, darling.” The endearment was scathing in its sarcasm. “Little David here is the product of one-night fling between me and his darling mother. I used to know his father, you see, and she was always on the lookout for someone who was more of a man than he was. We'd been getting on for a while and Marscomb found out. In a rage, he stole all of the company’s top designs and made off with them; so, I fired his ass. Good riddance. You want to know why I'm so paranoid? Look no further.” He pointed a thick, sausage like finger in David's direction. “This little whelp was looking for revenge for his dear old dad. When he found out what his mother had done, he made a personal vendetta out of it and went after you to get to me.”

“That's not true!” David's shout was so loud it echoed around the entire department, making several members of the weekend staff look back towards his office in curiosity. “There is no way my mother would ever sleep with a lying, cheating scumbag like you.”

Emerson merely grinned, showing his yellowing teeth. “Like father, like son. If I'd known you were this good of an actor, I might have hired you for my ad campaign.”

Without warning, David hauled off and slugged Emerson with all his might—which was quite substantial. Charlotte screamed, Adeline yelled for security, and the force of the blow sent Emerson back against the wall with an audible bang.

Within seconds, the guards grabbed the struggling hulk of a man. Watching in shock, Charlotte gasped as David spit, cursed, and struggled. Every muscle in his body strained to get at Emerson. She couldn’t help but wonder whether it could be true.

The world started spinning before her. “Charlotte?” Dimly, she heard Adeline calling her name, her tone colored with concern. “Charlotte!” Then, the world faded away to blackness.

Chapter Two

When she woke up, it was to the sight of the ceiling in her bedroom. She was in a simple cami and a pair of pajama pants, and someone had moved her to her bed.

The bed where she and David had made love.

Oh, Christ.

Her stomach suddenly lurched, and Charlotte sat up. The room spun about her, as she ran for the bathroom. She barely made it to the toilet before she violently emptied the contents of her stomach, her entire body heaving with the effort.

That was how Adeline found her—shuddering and bent over the porcelain bowl with tears streaming down her cheeks. Immediately, the redhead knelt at her side. “Jesus, Charlotte, are you ok?” She held out a washcloth to her companion, which Charlotte immediately took to wipe her mouth.

“Water.”

Quickly, Adeline turned to pour a glass from the tap and gave it to her. Charlotte used half of it to rinse her mouth out and chugged the other half before setting the glass on the tile floor beside her.

“God, Addy...” She couldn't keep the tears from her voice when she finally spoke. “What have I done?”

“Oh, honey,” Addy said, taking her into her arms, rocking her back and forth in a show of affection that was completely uncharacteristic. “It wasn't you. He had us all fooled. Goddamn bastard...”

“Where is he?” Charlotte demanded in a whisper. “Where is he now?”

Adeline made a sound of disgust low in her throat. “They're holding him down at the precinct in a cell. He’s where he belongs. We can charge the shit out of him later; but, for now, you rest.” Her hand stroked soothingly through Charlotte's hair. “You've had one hell of a shock.”

“How could he be my brother, Addy?” Charlotte whispered, still in disbelief. “Dad never even mentioned him—not once in my entire life.”

“Well, it would make sense.” Addy’s reply was rational, as always. “I'm sure relations with a prior employee's wife wouldn't look too great in the tabloids.”

“But…but that's just it.” Charlotte looked up, her eyes still red but now clear of any sign of moisture. “We did a full background check on David. If anyone in his family had worked for the company before, it would have turned up.”

Adeline made a face, but she didn't have a reply for her. Instead, she merely shrugged. “He's a techie, Charlotte. He might have had the know-how to falsify his own records. Why wouldn't he? He lied about practically everything else.”

Charlotte could only nod dully, as her friend enfolded her into her embrace once more. She still couldn't believe it. It had all been a lie—all the time they had spent together and relaxed side-by-side talking about their hopes and plans for the future. Even all the amazing technology they had created had been a lie.

“What about the tech?” she asked in a low voice. “All the new projects he was building for us. Were those just...flukes?”

“I've got everyone in the department going over them with a fine-toothed comb as we speak,” Addy assured her, softly, “but he's almost sure to have sabotaged them in some way. Those products will never see the market. I'm sorry, Charlotte.”

Jesus. Millions of dollars in potential revenue gone, just like that. Mountains of money spent in research and development for naught.

Though Charlotte was still hollow inside from the insane trickery David had unleashed upon her, she began to get angry when she realized how far he’d gone to blacken the name of the company. She might not have the best relationship with her father, but she was still CEO of Mathers Incorporated. He would have taken all of that away from her.

She began to wonder whether he had ever cared about her at all. Even the tiniest bit? Perhaps not. It took a pretty black-hearted man to sleep with his own sister in order to realize his half-cocked revenge plan. Plus, she'd fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. If it hadn't been for her father, Charlotte didn't even want to imagine where she might be now.

“Addy,” she started, looking back up at the woman who had been her closest companion for nearly a decade, “I'm so sorry I didn't believe you. I have no idea what came over me.”

“Infatuation. Blind infatuation. It happens to the best of us. There's no need to for you to apologize at all.”

Regardless of Adeline’s words, Charlotte felt as if she still had to apologize to the entire company for the time and money her oversight had cost them. Now, she'd experienced the reasons behind the company's strict policy about relationships between coworkers. She'd imagined that the rules were drafted without situations as serious as this in mind; but, all the same, she wanted to kick herself for being so easily taken in.

“I have to go in on Monday,” she finally said, sliding from Adeline's arms to stand, her expression still somewhat forlorn. “I need to address the company about Marscomb.” It seemed somehow wrong to call him David now. He had been David when they were intimate…when he'd been lying to her.

“Charlotte, maybe you'd better wait until—”

“And there are charges to file, right? We need to call up a lawyer and see to that, as well.”

Her voice had become firm once more. It was the voice she used in the office when she wanted to be straight with Addy, and the redhead knew the tone booked no argument.

Standing herself, Addy allowed a small smile to spread across her face. “We're going to take that bastard for all he's worth.”

Though the prospect should have made her feel triumphant and excited, after all he'd done to her, Charlotte felt like she had a rock sitting deep in her gut. It was a feeling that wouldn't budge—a sensation of having missed some important detail.

She assuaged herself by locking the emotion away. Of course, she'd missed an important detail. Several, really, since she'd allowed herself to become deeply involved with a man who felt nothing for her. He would pay. She would make sure of it.

“How's my dad?” Though she was loathe to ask the question—the man had, after all, hidden a brother from her all of these years—Emerson was her father, and there was still a part of her that cared for him.

At her question, Adeline's mouth screwed into an ugly scowl. “In the hospital. That dick, Marscomb, broke his jaw and half his teeth. Can you believe it?”

She most certainly could. From what she'd seen, David had swung with all his strength, and that would have been more than ample to do permanent damage to anyone's face.

“He wants to see you,” Addy said in a low voice, almost as if she was ashamed to say the words. “At Presbyterian.”

“I'll do it tomorrow.” Concerned for him as she might be, Charlotte was in no mood to deal with her father tonight. He was bound to be pissed as hell, both at Marscomb and at her for being so gullible. She was sure that, broken jaw or not, he'd have no problem chewing her out. The last thing she needed at this particular moment was to add insult to injury.

“He says tonight, Charlotte,” Adeline replied in an even smaller voice than before. The only time Addy ever cowed was when she was forced to act as the go-between for Charlotte and her father. While the older Mathers had hired her, she was loyal to the younger one. It was a conflict that caused its fair share of problems.

“Damn it.” Picking up the glass near her feet, Charlotte hurled it at the tile wall. Luckily, the vessel was made of plastic and merely bounced off. Raking her hands through her mussed blonde locks, she turned on her heels and made her way to the closet, yanking out the first clothes she found.

“Addy, call a car,” Charlotte barked in a tone that was completely unlike her. However, she couldn't help it. Count on her father to use her current vulnerability to demean her. The man was lower than low.

To her relief, Adeline didn't argue. By the time Charlotte was dressed, there was a car waiting downstairs for her. On the way to the hospital, neither of them spoke. Adeline knew better since it was at her bidding that her best friend was forced into a difficult situation. Charlotte's thoughts were awhirl, as well. She was trying to imagine what her father could possibly say to her now to make her feel worse.

The ride downtown was far too short.

New York Presbyterian Hospital was bustling for a weekend night, but Charlotte supposed hospitals were always busy. When she asked after her father, she was directed up to the fourth floor recovery ward. A quick stop at the doctor's office revealed that Emerson Mathers' jaw had been cracked in two places and six of his teeth were removed by the impact.

Charlotte had known that David was strong, but apparently even she had underestimated him. Closing her eyes, she tried not to imagine the way his magnificent body looked while she rode him, or when he'd emerged from the shower, dripping with water.

No.

He was her goddamn brother. She could not be having these thoughts about him.

When she finished speaking with the doctor, Charlotte walked down the hall and stopped just outside her father's private room. Knowing him, she was surprised he hadn't bought out the whole floor. She could at least say that he wasn't that selfish. Glancing at Adeline, who only nodded encouragingly, Charlotte opened the door and let herself into the brightly lit room.

At the sight before her, she frowned. Her father's large form was propped up in the hospital bed. His skin was pale and his eyes beady under the florescent lights. The entire right side of his face was swollen almost beyond recognition, and it was clear that his jaw had been wired shut to keep him from aggravating the injury. He was a sorry sight, indeed. It was difficult not to feel any pity for him in his current state. Marscomb had got him good.

“Nice of you to come and visit me.” Though his voice was somewhat muffled without the use of his jaw, Charlotte could understand him quite well.

“Nice of you to demand it,” she replied, her tone both formal and neutral.

She swore that if his wire hadn't prevented it, the man would have shot her his typical sarcastic grin.

“Well, I figure we have some business to discuss. The sooner, the better.”

Sighing, Charlotte dropped into a nearby chair, bracing herself for what was to come.  “I know. I'll have to speak with the employees, the board, and the tech department. I'll work around the clock to correct the mishap.”

“Correct?” The man arched a brow superciliously. “My dear Charlotte, what you have done is far beyond any correction. You banked the entire future of the company on the one man who would bring it down. You, without my knowledge of approval I might add, let him practically run our tech department for over four months and converted fifty percent of our cash resources into backing him. He may very well have bankrupted this company.”

The gravity of her actions hit her hard, and for the umpteenth time in the past twenty-four hours, Charlotte felt as though she might throw up. Were things really so severe? She remembered tentatively signing an agreement to funnel a larger percentage of income into David's research, but fifty percent? Had it really been so high? “Your oversights have cost this company millions, if not billions. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you and the man were in cahoots to bring the entire thing crashing down.”

“Don't you dare.” The words left her mouth in a grim warning, as she stared at him, her blue eyes narrow. “I may not have chosen to run this company, but I'm no less invested in it than you are. David has hurt both of us. Although, perhaps, the entire matter might have been avoided if you had warned me—”

“Of what?” The man's muffled laughter was scathing in its sarcasm. “Women are all starry-eyed, gullible idiots. Even if I had told you I had a son who was out for my blood, you still would have let him waltz right through the front door, completely and totally infatuated. You, Charlotte, have always been gullible. You think I've forgotten your little fiasco from a few years ago? You almost ruined us then, and you've brought us to the brink again now. Well, no longer.”

Charlotte was still reeling from his barrage of insults. When he finally ended on an open note, she struggled to catch up. “What do you mean no longer?” she whispered, hardly able to choke out the words.

“Do you really think I would allow such an irresponsible individual run my empire? No, my imbecilic little girl. You are through.”

Charlotte’s mouth fell open in shock. Through? What did he mean through? This company had been her life for the past six years. She'd poured her heart and soul into it. Even though it had never quite been what she'd wanted, she'd made the best of the situation she'd been thrust into and done her best to do the company proud. And now he wanted to fire her?

“You can't. You don't have the authority.” Faced suddenly with the prospect of her occupation—her life— being pulled out from under her, Charlotte went on the offensive. “You stepped down as CEO years ago. How can you fire me when you're not ranked above my position?”

“On the contrary, girl. You might be the acting CEO, but I am still Mathers Incorporated's largest shareholder. It won’t take much to convince this board that your latest debacle has proved that you are entirely unfit to run the company.”

She couldn't breathe. Her heart had stopped.

“Who?” she finally demanded. “Who could possibly run the company better than I could?”

His piggy little eyes were smug, as he called out towards the door, “You can come in now, Samson.”

Still in a state of utter shock, Charlotte watched with her mouth wide, as the door opened and a red-haired man entered. He was about her height with deep green eyes, chiseled features, and a strong jaw. He was dressed in an immaculately tailored suit.

“Charlotte, this is Samson Causewell. He's another of the leading shareholders with a history in business management. He's headed several Fortune 500 companies in his time, and he has no issues following instruction. Am I right, my boy?”

At the sight of Charlotte, disheveled and hollow-eyed in a chair by her father's side, the man seemed to hesitate slightly before answering. His neutral expression softened slightly into something that might have been pity before instantly hardening once more. “No, sir.”

“Good.” Emerson looked back to Charlotte once more, his eyes narrow. “If you fight me on this, girl, you will lose. You're to be Causewell's secretary to use as he sees fit. Do you understand?”

He could he do this to her?

She was his daughter.

Didn't he have a heart at all?

“Dad,” she said, softly. Reaching out, as she hadn't in years, she took his hand gently in hers. All she'd ever wanted was his approval. While, yes, she had run the company in a fashion that didn't yield the highest personal profits for their family, she liked to think she had run it well. Apparently, however, her father disagreed to the point that he was willing to oust her over a situation that her heart was still bleeding over.

Without hesitation, Emerson yanked his meaty hand from hers, wincing as it taxed his injured jaw. “You should be lucky I don't disown you, girl. Hopefully, you'll learn something from Causewell. You had better hope that he can somehow pull us up out of the hole you've dug us into.” Then, he grunted, as if satisfied with his own statement. Next, he turned his beady gaze onto Samson and said, “And you, you'd better deliver. If Mathers goes down, you'll never work in this town, or any other, again. Mark my words.”

“Of course, sir.” Samson's slightly accented tones flowed sinuously over the statement. “It's all under control.”

However, Charlotte barely noticed what he said. She had already risen from her chair and stumbled from the hospital room. Outside, Adeline caught her arm as she trudged past, in a daze. “What is it?” she demanded. “What happened? Who was that guy?”

“He sacked me,” Charlotte replied dully, unable to believe it actually happened. “I'm not the company head anymore.”

“He what?” Adeline's incredulous exclamation echoed down the hospital halls, causing several orderlies to eye them sternly. “He can't do that.”

“He can and he did,” Charlotte replied, completely hollow. “He said I'm supposed to be the new guy's secretary. He stripped me of all control.”

“Charlotte, I won't stand for this. I'll resign. I'm not going back to the company if you're not running the show. I—”

“Addy, don't.” Suddenly, she was tired—so very tired. Too much happened in the past twenty-four hours. She needed to get home, get into bed, and sleep for a very long time. “You're not going to quit. You're going to stay right where you are.”

“Like hell I am!”

“Without Marscomb, we need you to keep the tech department up and running. You wouldn't strand us like that, would you?”

Almost immediately, the fire in Adeline's eyes died. Her expression became torn as she bit her lip, lowering her gaze to her twisting hands. Sighing, Charlotte shook her head before walking back down to the lobby and out the front door.

By this time, night had long fallen. The stars were out, and though it was usually her favorite thing to count the few stars not blotted out by the bright lights of the city, tonight it gave her no comfort. Everything had been taken from her. Absolutely everything.

She let Addy hail a taxi, as she struggled to take it all in. The man she had thought loved her was a charlatan. She'd been trying for weeks to discover what dark secret he kept and how to help him get over it—only to find that she was the secret. She and her company.

Well, it wasn't hers anymore.

In reality, Charlotte realized that Mathers Incorporated had always belonged to her father and always would. Every piece of information she tried to keep from him, he discovered with hardly any obstacle. He invaded her private life to a stunning degree. Plus, disgustingly, he'd let her sleep with her own brother just so he could get the upper hand.

The man was sick.

Any love or pity she might have had for him was gone in that moment. He'd betrayed her almost as woefully as David had, and she didn't know if she would ever recover.

“You need rest, Charlotte.” Adeline, also incredibly upset, slid Charlotte into the taxi first and then slid in beside her. “Give yourself a few hours of sleep and some perspective. We'll figure things out. We always do.”

Would they?

Did it even matter?

It seemed as if she couldn't trust anyone, and Charlotte was sick of it.

Closing her eyes, she blocked out everything and tried to think only of her bed, her apartment, and blessed silence from the din of horror that surrounded her.

Chapter Three

Monday was pretty damn torturous.

Despite the fact that Addy had pretty much demanded that she take a day for herself, came into the office. She'd been up the entire night, despite her exhaustion, and had come to the conclusion that if she wanted to get used to her life as it was going to be, she had better start falling into line—the sooner, the better. It seemed almost impossible for an hour to pass where she didn't think of David; so, she figured that she could at least try and settle into her new position.

Secretary.

Pushing papers, making calls, and taking messages. She cringed at the thought of being so useless; but, nonetheless, she made herself up, pulled her hair back into its customary up-do, and was at her desk—outside the huge office she had so recently vacated—at seven-thirty sharp.

It took some effort to shoo a furious Adeline, but eventually she managed. She was subsisting on several cups of strong coffee by the time Samson arrived at eight.

The man's appearance was just as impeccable as it had been before at her father's bedside—tailored suit, perfectly cut hair, and well-groomed. He probably came from a family almost as well-to-do as hers, having had so much experience in the big business world. Though she fully expected him to ignore her and enter the office behind her without a word, he surprised her by pausing at the edge of her desk.

For a moment, Charlotte attempted to be absorbed in what she was writing. It helped to concentrate on the computer screen when a bout of nausea—suddenly a frequent occurrence with her life crumbling about her— occurred. When he didn't move, she finally looked up, her expression carefully neutral.

“Good morning, Mr. Causewell. Is there something I can help you with?”

He sighed at her upturned face, his green eyes slightly pained. When he spoke, Charlotte found herself trying to place his accent. Something Highland…northern Scotland…or Ireland, perhaps? It was very slight; and, therefore, slightly difficult to figure out.

With sympathy in his eyes, he said, “You look like you haven't slept all night.”

Charlotte was immediately suspicious. If this man was going to try to be chummy with her, she wasn't going to give an inch—not after she had been so recently burned. “I slept fine,” she lied, turning her attention back to the screen before her. “I got in thirty minutes ago.”

“Probably because you were already awake.” The statement was not unkind, but Charlotte refused to acknowledge it.

“Mr. Sekihara called,” she said, regaling him with his messages instead. “He'd like a confirmation on the time for the conference call later this afternoon. Also, the board is asking for a date for the meeting this week.” It was the meeting where she would be officially ousted as CEO of Mathers Incorporated. The call had been particularly difficult to take.

“Miss Mathers, I know it might be hard to believe right now, but I'm not here to steal your job. When your father called me in, he merely said that he needed a replacement for a higher up. He didn't mention that I'd be replacing his daughter or taking over the entire operation. Trust me, I'm as shocked as you are.”

Impossible.

Charlotte would be willing to bet her quite sizable family fortune that the man had never lost his company, his father, and his significant other all in one day. Glancing up at the man, she shot him the most functional of smiles. “I'm perfectly fine, Mr. Causewell. Thank you for your concern.”

“You can call me Samson.”

“I think Mr. Causewell would be more fitting.” Her answer was overly cautious. “I'm your secretary and you're the CEO. I wouldn't want to risk any unprofessionalism.”

For a moment, there was silence on the man's part before he merely sighed, turned to pass her desk, and disappeared into his office. Charlotte let out the breath she'd been holding. She would do her job. No matter how friendly this man was, she would not be anything more than his employee. She would not be his friend, and she certainly wouldn't be the guest of honor at his pity party.

No way.

Taking a gulp of coffee, the young woman began to click through her emails. One of the most recent was a request for a breakdown of the original Uphone schematics from the production company. They were looking to make sure the patents from the upcoming Uphone upgrades were all in order. Automatically, Charlotte clicked through the paperwork, forwarding all the needed forms to Samson.

And then she paused.

On a sheet that cited the location in the database for the original Uphone plans, the entry line was simply marked CONFIDENTIAL.

That was strange.

They kept all their patents on the public website. They could be accessed by any Mathers customer at anytime to ensure the authenticity of the product. Why would the patent for the Uphone, one of their first and most popular products, be marked as confidential?

Frowning, Charlotte glanced back at the double doors to her former office. No doubt Samson was settling in quite nicely. She'd ordered the coffee he'd requested from his blackberry on his way in and there was a nice pile of paperwork on his desk that would take him half the morning to work through.

He'd be busy for a while.

So, perhaps, she could do a bit of snooping. Making sure no runners were lingering on the top floor, Charlotte hurriedly logged into the server. Once she did, she was surprised to see that she still had Chief Executive Access. It must have been something that her infirmed father had forgotten to change. However, it would make her current task leagues easier.

Sifting through the various files—there were thousands—that comprised the company’s database, Charlotte finally came upon the patent origins grouping. There, she could sift through every patent ever applied for by the company, going back to decades. Since the Uphone had been one of their first successes, she went as far back as the files would allow.

However, when she clicked on the directory that was supposed to house the JPGs, she received an error message.

File not found

What the hell?

The patents were all supposed to be up-to-date, pending any possible lawsuits that could be filed against them. They needed to provide the patents to prove that the products were original work. Sure, no one had probably gone back so far in the data for years, but that was no excuse. Maybe it was an IT error?

Picking up the phone, she quickly dialed down to the IT department, quickly thinking of an excuse. They answered on the second ring.

“IT.”

“Hi, Pat.” She recognized the voice on the line instantly. Before David had been hired, she couldn't count how many times she'd called Pat up to her office to fix her laptop.

“Hello Ms. Mathers. How may I help you?” Now, of course, the man was stiff and cold. All the employees had probably been warned not to treat her gently. It was just like her father to isolate her.

“Yes, I have an inquiry from Mr. Causewell? We're missing the patents for the original Uphone, and we have a request to submit them to the production company for review. I'll forward the email to you. Apparently, there's an error in the directory? The file isn't popping up.”

“Can you forward me the message, please?”

Of course the man would be thorough. Ass. Luckily for her, she'd only made up what she had to. Her needs were real enough.

Perhaps two minutes later, Pat was back on the line with her. “Yes, Ms. Mathers?”

“I'm here, Pat.”

“It seems that file was exported to the executive private server over a decade ago. It's not on our system.”

The executive private server? In all her years as CEO, she'd never heard of such a thing. Quickly, Charlotte wracked her brain, trying to figure out how she could gain access to it without revealing her woefully scant knowledge on the subject. Though her father could be exceedingly paranoid when it came to most subjects, he was also somewhat predictable.

Charlotte remembered when she'd been eighteen, she'd been banned from their house in Long Island after attempting to have a party there. It turned out, the country house was where her father did all his discreet wheeling, dealing, and whoring. While she didn't like to think of the latter, she supposed she couldn't judge. The man hadn't had a decent girlfriend since the death of her mother over two decades ago.

However, she knew that since he was the only one who had access to the Long Island residence, he would probably hide anything he didn't want seen there. “Ok, thanks. I'll tell him to check the Long Island account then.”

“You do that, Ms. Mathers.”

Score. That must be where all the information was.

However, she was in lower Manhattan, and it would take hours to get up there. Plus, that was assuming she could worm her way into the estate to gain access.

She knew she should sit at her desk like a good little girl and make sure she was at Samson's every beck and call. Instead, the mystery of the Uphone patent galvanized her into action. Grabbing her jacket, she rose from her desk and ducked into the executive office, fixing her expression into one of pure innocence.

“Mr. Causewell, there's been a request for some information that I have to step out of the office to get. I'll be a few hours. Do you need anything?”

The man eyed her for a moment with an inscrutable expression before his mouth and eyes softened. He still felt some measure of sympathy or pity for her situation, and that, thankfully, made him easy to manipulate.

“Sure, no problem.” He even gave her a small smile. “If you could just bring me back a sandwich from the deli on the corner, I'd appreciate it.”

Pig.

Charlotte didn't let any of her inner dialogue escape. She merely grinned her way through the encounter before hurrying from the building.

Chapter Four

Within an hour, she was on the LIRR bound for Long Island, praying that she had the wits to break into her father's estate.

Something was wrong. A patent that had been transferred to a private server? There was absolutely no reason for it. Patents, by their very existence, were supposed to be available for the public to see. Why would her father be hiding one?

The ride to Long Island took far longer than she would have liked—over an hour. When the taxi she'd employed reached the estate, she carefully recited her convoluted excuse: Her father was in the hospital, but he needed some confidential papers. She knew she wasn't typically allowed in, but she'd been made a gopher by her demotion.

To her surprise, the guards seemed to accept her story, and she went on without a hitch.

The house was just as large and ostentatious as she remembered, situated on its own peninsula jutting off the island. There was about a kilometer of private beach, though the ocean was far too rough to swim in. Charlotte only shook her head at the indulgence, especially since Emerson Mathers didn't even know how to swim.

After some wrangling, she was allowed into his private office. The room was surprisingly neat, but then again, she was sure some exotic maid he was banging came to the house every week. Since she didn't need actual papers, she merely sought out the computer. Sitting in front of the state of the art modified Web glass, she contemplated furiously what his password could be.

Her birthdate? No, her father would never be so trite. Her mother's? Nor was he that sentimental. Over the course of an hour, Charlotte rejected more than ten possibilities, relying on what she knew of the selfish, conniving man. Then, finally, when she stumbled upon the obvious solution, she demeaned herself for not thinking of it sooner.

The total number of bank accounts he had, written out in script.

Fifteen.

The moment she entered the word, she was given unlimited access to all the files on the server. It didn't take long for her to find the file labeled: Patents. In it was the original patent for the Uphone; but, to Charlotte's shock, there were two copies. One was signed and dated for April 1993, citing Mathers Incorporated as the patron. However, there was another that was incomplete. It was dated June 1992, and the patron was Lester R. Marscomb.

The original patent hadn't gone through.

And, while Charlotte didn't know any Lester, she immediately recognized David's last name.

Her father had blocked a patent cited to David's father? But why? If his design was the original one, wouldn't he have submitted his paperwork first? A chill worked its way down her spine as Charlotte remembered her father telling her he never had the mind for tech, even though the original designs for the Uphone were supposed to have been his.

What if he'd been lying? What if someone else had designed the Uphone and he'd been the one to steal the patent?

Her heart in her throat, Charlotte entered a system wide search for Lester Marscomb. The amount of information she turned up was astonishing.

First and foremost, there was the man's paperwork for the single year he'd worked for the company. He'd been even more masterful than his son when it came to designs. He’d submitted over thirty projects to be approved. Currently, Mathers circulated about sixty percent of them.

There was an entire file delegated to patents that had first been applied for by the individual man, blocked, and then registered to Mathers Incorporated. As Charlotte read on, her heart grew heavier and heavier. There were records of the man's termination, citing confrontation with company policies when it was obvious that he'd just wanted to be recognized for his own work.

Then, there were the black list letters—at least fifty of them. There were drafts of letters to other companies, threatening them or bribing them not to hire Lester Marscomb. They spoke of his treachery and the shortcomings of his character, threatening to drive any local company who hired him into the ground with the patents that Mathers currently held. It seemed that the man was denied employment from every subsequent job, simply because of these letters. There were even some documents from companies—then smaller fish and today at the top of their game—begging Mathers to let them hire the man. Those companies were turned down flat and threatened.

When, finally, Charlotte came to the personal files of the blacklisted man, tears began to drip down her cheeks. There were pictures of him, his wife, and his son—a much younger David. They looked ecstatically happy during the year that he was employed. Then, there was a censored image of the man found in his bathtub, headlining a news article.

Brooklyn Man Found Dead in Bathroom: Victim of Tragic Suicide.

The rest of the information followed a growing David. It seemed that he had worked his entire life to support his family. Ever since Lester had been fired, they'd been close to destitute. He had worked his way through both high school and college, bolstered by his own brilliance. He had labored for years in white collar companies that had kept him on long enough to steal his patents. In return, those companies sold the patents to Mathers for millions of dollars.

The depth of the corruption made Charlotte sick to her stomach. By the time she'd reached present day, complete with David's mother's psychiatric and medical reports detailing deep depression and psychosis, she'd had enough.

Her father had lied. There was no doubt about that. It hadn't been Lester Marscomb who had stolen the patents. Rather, it was the other way around. The reason her father had never been tech savvy was because he'd never designed anything before. As far as the claim that David was her brother—Charlotte still wasn't so sure.

Among the files, she'd found several disturbing pictures of Lester’s wife. There was no doubt that she and Charlotte's father had an affair. However, it was unclear how deep the connection had gone. There was a very real possibility, Charlotte mused, that David was her half-brother; but, now that she'd discovered the depths of her father's lies, she didn't know what to think anymore.

As Charlotte logged out of the computer, she stood and wiped her eyes of the moisture that had filled them. She had to speak with David—the sooner, the better.

She had to know the truth.

Chapter Five

So this was what jail was like

In all his contemplations, over all the years that he'd planned on taking Mathers Incorporated down, David had never once imagined he'd end up here. Thankfully, he hadn't yet been transferred to a penitentiary, but he had no doubt it would be coming soon. He'd felt Mathers' jaw crack, as his fist had connected with it. Christ, it had felt good. All those years of pent up anger, resentment, and absolute hatred poured out of him.

The man deserved death, as far as he was concerned, but David wasn't a killer. Not that he wasn't tempted—the way the man had swooped in and ruined absolutely everything. He'd had Charlotte in the palm of his hand. She'd loved him. She'd trusted him. Now, she was busy building a lawsuit against him.

Surprisingly, David found this crushing in more than a platonic way. Yes, his plan had been foiled. Yes, he had been discovered far before he had reached his goal. However, the most devastating thing of all was the fact that he had lost the confidence of a woman he respected, and perhaps even had deeper feelings for.

He'd lost everything.

As he sat in the bare cell, with its single cot and open toilet, he started thinking. He thought more than he had in years—even more than he had while fervently planning the downfall of Mathers Incorporated.

How did he feel about Charlotte?

Not that it mattered. He would probably never see the woman again, unless it was at court. Then, she would host such hatred for him that it would be close to impossible to remember the intimate times they'd had.

She'd been beautiful. Against all odds and in spite of her parentage, she'd been beautiful, kind, generous, and amazing. Though he'd grown up under the impression that she was a carbon copy of the father who had raised her, he'd been wrong. It had actually been shocking, how deeply her father had wronged her in his quest to put his company on the map as one of the top tech firms in the world. Truly, Charlotte barely knew her father.

However, they were apparently close enough for her father to make accusations right in front of her, Adeline, and anyone else that counted. They were probably inspecting his creations with a fine-toothed comb as he contemplated, searching for any evidence of sabotage. If they looked hard enough, they would find it, and he would be done. He was facing years of jail time, total humiliation, and the utter dissolution of his family.

Luckily, he'd been able to call the hastily hired nurse to tell her he would be home late. Yet, what about the following day? His mother would have no one to care for her if he didn't call the woman back in, and he was only allowed a single phone call.

Along with his mother's helplessness, he had his own to consider. He had no close friends or other family who he thought would bail him out. In short, he was stuck behind bars until his court date with Mathers arrived.

The prospect made him ill. His life had been transformed into a veritable dung heap by that family. Now, he was under their thumb again.

Pathetic.

He should have been more careful.

He should have been more vigilant when it came to his developing feelings for Charlotte. When it came to his feelings for her, he'd let things get totally and completely out of hand. He should have used the material he'd had on her the moment he'd found it and damn his bleeding heart.

Somehow, he just hadn't wanted to hurt her.

She was different from her father. However, it appeared that feelings wouldn't keep her from pressing charges. According to the man that had arrested him, he was awaiting a list of pending charges from the company that included fraud, embezzlement, incest, and a whole range of other matters. Apparently, the charges were at least a page and a half long.

If Charlotte and Emerson Mathers got their way, he would never see the sun again. His father would be restless in his grave, having never found peace, and his mother? God knows what would happen to her. No doubt she would be shuffled from institution to institution until they placed her in the one looney bin secure enough to handle her for life.

For David, this was one of the most horrible things that he could contemplate—not only because he loved his mother and had been waiting his entire life for her recovery—but also because he had a plethora of new questions for her. For years, the woman had spoke precious few words, but when David thought of the accusations Mathers had made in Charlotte's office, he wanted answers.

Had his mother had an affair with Emerson? He looked nothing like the man; but, doubt was in the back of his mind, lingering. He couldn't believe his beloved mother would have betrayed his father like that—and while he was in the midst of trying to find a new job to support them to boot. How could she have even contemplated something so crude?

The man had to be lying.

He'd simply tossed the statement out there with no blood or paternity tests to prove it. Unfortunately, locked up as he was, David would probably never gain the right to demand such things from the man. Emerson Mathers had come up with the perfect excuse to lock him away for the foreseeable future.

Groaning at the fruitlessness of his situation, David collapsed on the hard cot that had been provided for him as a bed. It was far too short to fit his tall frame. In addition, it was as hard as a rock. It was a bed not meant for any moral man.

But, had he, in his quest for revenge, abandoned his morality?

David had been held in the precinct for three full days. In that time, he had ample opportunity to think about his morality.

He'd spent his entire life plotting to bring down a company built on greed and corruption. Was that so wrong of him? He'd never considered himself a horrible or selfish person, but the fact remained that he'd barely considered the effect he'd have on the hundreds of people who worked for the company. They'd be without jobs and without sources of income—even though it wouldn't be their fault that their employer was a black-hearted bastard.

Indeed, that wasn't even the case now.

Over the past decade, Charlotte had taken the reins of the company. She was as unlike her father as it was possible to be, assuming that the two were of the same flesh and blood.

The flesh and blood that he quite possibly shared.

The thought brought him close to gagging. There was far too much of a possibility that he had bedded his own sister. He was sure Emerson had used it as a point to further criticize his lack of morality. However, the truth was if the man's assertions were indeed true, David hadn't known he had a half-sister any more than Charlotte had known she had a brother.

His mother had never mentioned that he had any other father but Lester. Regrettably, Emerson Mathers had David questioning even her, and she was so mentally unstable that she could barely feed herself or move around the house.

Christ, what an asshole.

Here he was, imprisoned. Plus, it was quite possible that his mom would be put away in an institution for life. In the meantime,  Mathers was probably laughing his way to the bank. Certainly, David had sabotaged all the projects he'd worked on for the firm, but it would be child's play to do away with the fail-safes and the cameras and simply market the products under new patents.

Undoubtedly, Mathers Incorporated was a pro at pulling off something like that by this juncture.

He'd fucked up.

He'd royally fucked up.

He was facing indefinite jail time and an utterly ruined reputation. What was he to do?

Strangely enough, the young man found his thoughts drifting back to Charlotte and the time they'd spent together. While, in the beginning, he'd promised himself that he'd allow himself only to become physically intimate with her—and nothing more—his feelings had rapidly multiplied. How could he have avoided it?

Charlotte was the complete antithesis of her father, which made it easy for him to envision a future with her. Though he'd known the entire time that the projection he was building was a ruse, David had imagined himself staying with her for years—perhaps eventually proposing and marrying the daughter of his sworn enemy.

The irony would be crippling, but Charlotte deserved no less. Even someone as jaded as he could realize that.

And now he'd utterly destroyed it.

The thoughts that ran through his head at least five or six times a day were enough to demoralize him to the point where he simply paced the room, arguing with himself about his own nature.

During a particularly intense self-berating session, a guard beyond the bars of his cell announced that he had a visitor. David wondered who it was for the few scant moments it took the guard to remove him from his cell and maneuver him to the visitation room. The moment he entered the cement-walled space, his eyes widened as he caught the gaze of the only occupant present.

Marshall.

Chapter Six

Marshall sat at the opposite end of the table, his expression grim. “Shit, man,” he said, making David wince. “I knew something had to be up when that nurse didn't know where you were.”

Christ, Marshall was still babysitting him like he was a teenager. While David was glad to see a familiar face, the embarrassment that he was in cuffs far outweighed any pleasure he felt. What must Marshall think of him?

“You shouldn't be here, Marshall.” It was all he could think of to say.

At David’s words, Marshall’s face only became more somber, and he said, “I'm here to pay your bail.”

“Like hell you are.” David knew that his bail was set at ten thousand dollars since Mathers Incorporated was such a high profile company. He'd be dead and in his grave before he let anyone pay such a lofty sum of money to get him out of the situation he'd worked himself into. “I won't let you.”

“David, do you think we've been friends for this long because you've let me be friends with you?” Marshall's gaze was sincere as he leaned across the table, under the close watch of the guard. “You've been inside this little bubble your entire life, and you're under some gross misconception that I pity you or think less of you because of the circumstances you've encountered. I've come here today to tell you that you're wrong.” Stunned, David couldn't find the words to rebut him. While he vainly searched for what to say to dissuade Marshall, he only steamrolled on. “I've never pitied you or considered you a charity case. If I've paid for you, it's only because I thought it was the least you deserved. For thirty-five years, life has been throwing you these devastating curve balls; yet, every time, you manage to come out on top.”

His words drew scathing laughter from the dark-eyed man, who merely shook his head. “On top? Marshall, do you want to know why I'm in here? I plotted to bring down Mathers, and I nearly had. Everything was going as I wanted until…suddenly…” he trailed off, somewhat lost in his thoughts, “…until, suddenly, it wasn't.”

“What happened, David?” Marshall's soft inquiry touched something in David that he thought was long dead, something that was barely brought to light by Charlotte—a woman he was sure would never speak directly to him again.

Knowing that the guard wouldn't be able to take any kind of statement unless it was legally documented, David spilled every emotion he’d experienced and every detail of the plot that he’d implemented over the last six months. After keeping it to himself so long, he had to admit that it felt good to finally have someone who could merely listen to him. His pride was bruised and his masculinity had suffered an unrecoverable blow; but, he had finally aired his most intimate skeletons.

Funnily enough, Marshall didn't look as disgusted as David would have thought. Disappointed, certainly, and more than a little confused; but, he didn't rise to leave the room in a huff.

In fact, as soon as David finished speaking, he voiced his own concerns. “You've been planning this for…years?”

“Since shortly after my father died, yes. Marshall, you can't imagine the impression it made on me. My father killed himself because Mathers went after him so relentlessly. What that man did was inhumane.”

“And was what you were planning any more humane? Use any means necessary to bring the company down? Christ, David, you were even willing to exploit the woman you love.”

“I do not love her.” David’s denial was sudden and vehement, his gray eyes narrowing. “I respect her, and now I realize that it was wrong of me to involve her; but, love is something that takes multitudes of years and leagues of trust, Marshall. These are things that I haven't had the opportunity to acquire.”

“Bullshit.” His companion's response rang through the room caustically, his expression firm. “David, you talk about her like a man obsessed. If I'd have known when we last spoke, perhaps I could have done something.”

“Something like what?” David scoffed, shaking his head.

“Like brought you back from the brink,” Marshall replied flatly, rolling his eyes playfully with a small smile. “Falling for the girl was a major problem, man.”

Like he needed anyone else to tell him that.

Marshall's smile, however, was the first he'd seen in days, and it gave him hope. After a terse moment's silence, he sighed, casting his eyes down towards the table. “I'm going to pay you back, you know.”

“Sure, no problem.” Marshall was already standing, pulling out his checkbook, as he signaled to the guard. His entire life David had told himself that friends were an unnecessary distraction. First, it was work that he needed to devote himself to and then his elaborate revenge scheme. He'd never had time for friends. But Marshall? Marshall had stuck by him through every ordeal in his life—and was still standing by him, even in the face of a multi-billion dollar company pressing charges.

At the age of thirty-five, David was beginning to realize that he had underestimated the merits of friendship.

It took about an hour’s worth of paperwork, facing the stern chief of the district—who was almost certainly against David when it came to fighting for his supposed innocence. However, he was eventually freed on bail.  Walking out of the precinct was one of the most liberating experiences in David's life—until he remembered he'd still have to deal with the Mathers father and daughter, who were undoubtedly out for his blood. Plus, he was determined to confront his mother.

She might have barely spoken for the last decade, but he needed her to speak now. He needed her to reassure him that Emerson had just been bellowing lies. She would never have cheated on his father, would she? Mathers had implied that it had been going on for years. David must have been born from that perverted union. He needed answers—and the sooner, the better.

As he and Marshall emerged into the sunlight, a shout from their right caught David's attention. He glanced over to see a petite woman. She was no more than five-foot-two or so with warm brown eyes and dark hair, and she was waving to them. She wore an amazing, green-fitted suit that highlighted her curvaceous figure. Her smile was surprising, considering she was searching for two men fresh out of a police station.

“Leah, hey,” said Marshall.

David glanced at his friend and back to the woman again. The name Marshall had called sounded familiar, though he would swear on his life he'd never seen the newcomer before. “David,” Marshall said, as he paused at the edge of the sidewalk to let the woman catch up with them. “This is my sister, Leah. She's one of the best defense attorneys in the business.”

Ah. Over the years, Marshall had mentioned his younger sister a few times, but David had never actually met her. Despite the fact that he'd just come out of an extremely confusing pseudo-relationship with a woman bound to hate him, he couldn't help but notice that she was quite cute—and that she looked nothing like her brother. “She's going to be helping us out.”

Oh, no.

Immediately, David shook his head. Lawyers cost money. Good lawyers were expensive. Marshall had been footing the bill his entire life, and perhaps he'd done it because he respected him, but this was far too much. “I can't.” He looked from brother to sister, his gray gaze serious. “I don't have anything to pay you with now.”

“Wow, he's just like you said.” Leah's hands went to her hips, as she gave him a cursory once over.

“David, didn't we just go over this? Do you really want the city defending you? Mathers probably has them in their pockets.”

“Well, no,” he started, “but you can't keep—”

“Christ, man, you're not my mom. Don't tell me what I can and can't do. And besides, this was Leah's decision. If you want to convince someone, start with her, and good luck with that. I haven't won an argument against her since she passed the bar.”

The last thing he wanted to do was kick a gift horse in the mouth at this particular juncture, but he didn't know if he would ever get used to Marshall supporting him so. He'd thought he would be on his own feet by this point, and the disappointment stung.

David exhaled hotly and held his hand out to Leah with a small smile. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise. I was beginning to think I'd never see the elusive David.”

“I assure you, it's more a trial than luck that we met. You'll see that soon enough.”

“I think you might underestimate me slightly.” The dark-haired woman's expression turned mischievous. “Marshall wasn't bluffing when he said I'm one of the best. So, let's get back to the office and see what we have to work with here.”

Somehow, he didn't think it would be much.

If he wanted this situation to work to his advantage at all, he would have to tell Leah the truth. Divulging to Marshall, who he'd known for years, was one thing; but, telling Marshall’s sister would be quite another. She was a woman and would probably be quick to see Charlotte's side of things. He deceived her, and though the ruthlessness of his methods had abated somewhat, he'd intended to keep lying to her until he achieved his goals. It wasn't something that women tended to find acceptable.

However, Leah was Marshall's sister.

Perhaps, somehow, she'd be able to see beyond his actions and discover that he wasn't an abysmal person. He was just angry and bereft after feeling like he'd been robbed of everything that mattered for years.

However, first, he had to go home.

He needed to check on his mother. Once he was sure she was alright, he needed to ask her a few questions. He was going to get answers, one way or the other. He could only hope that they were the answers he wanted to hear.

Chapter Seven

She was in better shape than he had hoped.

Though the nurse hadn't been in for two days, it was obvious that Miranda had been present enough to take herself to the bathroom and shower. When they entered the small apartment, she was parked on the couch in front of the TV, watching it silently. Her damp hair was enough to tell David that she had at least kept herself clean. However, he couldn’t say whether she'd eaten or not.

Apologetically, he gestured to Leah and Marshall to wait in the tiny front entryway as he shed his jacket and shoes. He desperately needed a shower, and more than anything, he craved a good, hot meal. However, before he did either, he needed to speak with her. He needed to know.

“Mom.” At the sound of his voice, his mother glanced up at him dully for a moment before looking back at the television. The reaction was more than he usually got from her and that gave him hope. “I'm sorry I was gone so long. Are you alright. Is everything ok?”

She said nothing, just continuing to stare at the screen before her.

Sighing, David moved to sit next to her on the couch, following the line of her gaze. His eyes widened when he realized that she was watching a news program—and the subject of the current report was none other than Mathers Incorporated. He found he couldn't tear his eyes away, as the blonde news anchor began to narrate the developing story, images playing out behind her.

“One of our top news stories tonight: Mathers Incorporated has suddenly taken on a new CEO. After an inspection of some of the company's developing projects caused suspicion of possible sabotage, former CEO and daughter of Mathers Incorporated founder, Emerson Mathers, stepped down. In her place, the noted business mogul, Samson Causewell, took over the running of the company. It is still unknown the extent to which the firm has been crippled by the mishap, but we'll continue to cover the story as it unfolds.”

Charlotte had stepped down?

David frowned at the screen. Why on earth would she have done that? Yes, he'd installed fail-safes into every prototype he'd worked on, but any idiot with even the lowest tech degree could extract them to preserve the device. He was left to assume those working in the department hadn't actually found what was wrong with the technology and only assumed that it would impossible to salvage.

And Charlotte…the last time he'd checked, the company had been her life. Hadn't she spoken of running it in a way exponentially better than the way her father had? Of making it into her pet project and using it to bolster all her charitable aspirations?

And now she'd just given it up.

It was more than a little strange, and David would be willing to bet that there was some awful foul play involved on the part of Emerson Mathers. With a small smile, he remembered how fulfilling it had been when his fist had connected with the odious man's face. He wasn't usually a violent man, but the spray of blood and the flying teeth had done him a world of good.

Emerson had said some pretty nasty things about his mother; but, they were only the latest in a life full of insults he'd dealt the Marscomb family. When David opened his mouth to speak to his mother, a part of him hoped desperately that she remained as mute as she had been for the past years. It was the same part of him that feared, deep down, that Emerson's words had been the truth. Yet, a much larger part of him craved his mother's reassurance and the sound of her voice.

He needed to hear her speak now more than ever.

“Mom,” he said in a low voice, wrapping an arm gently around her to hold her against him as his heart began to race in anticipation. “I know you sometimes have a hard time…expressing yourself. I understand that more than anyone else. I've gone through what you've gone through. I loved Dad, too. I know you're hurting inside.” He searched for what to say next, wondering how he could possibly breach such a sensitive subject. “I've never asked you for anything, Mom. I've always taken care of you and kept you close and hoped you'd come back to me; but, now I need something from you. I need the truth. Did you…did you ever meet Dad's old friend Emerson?”

Almost immediately, the woman stiffened in his arms, and David's heart sank. Her hollow eyes jerked up to his to stare at him almost accusingly, and her mouth formed a slight 'O' in her surprise.

“Mom…” David's voice lowered to a whisper, his tone almost pained. “Please tell me you didn't. Tell me you never touched that man. He betrayed Dad. He betrayed us…”

As his words faded away, tears unexpectedly welled in the older woman's eyes. Without a word, Miranda Marscomb stood on shaky legs, casting her son a look that spoke volumes of her guilt. Then, she turned and hobbled from the room.

For a moment, David could only sit there in disbelief.

It couldn't be.

He'd calmed his rage, his fear, and his desolation while he'd been locked up with the hope that his mother would disprove, without a doubt, the claims that Emerson had made. Instead, she'd remained just as silent as she'd always been and proclaimed her guilt with a single look.

Emerson Mathers was his father.

The thought made him physically ill. He was still sitting on the couch, his head in his hands, when Marshall and Leah entered. Neither of them looked too happy. Without a word, his friend sat on the couch next to him, extremely somber. Marshall simply said, “I'm guessing you didn't get the answer you wanted.”

With a tortured groan, David looked up at him before picking up the nearest object—which happened to be a cheap glass vase—and hurled it at the wall. The object shattered into a thousand pieces, making both Marshall and Leah duck. Slowly, David rose from the couch, wondering how he was ever going to come to terms with the new knowledge he'd gained. Emerson was his father, which meant that he'd been seducing his own goddamn sister. How could he live with himself?

“David,” Marshall interjected, stopping his perilous thoughts, “whatever you're thinking, stop it. This isn't the time to fall apart.”

“I'm going to kill him,” David said, seething, his eyes shut tight as he prayed for composure. “I'm going to strangle him in his goddamn hospital bed.”

“You're not going to kill anyone,” Leah said, calmly. “We can handle this, David. We can use it in our case against him.”

A case was a case.

This was his life. All these years, his mother had been carrying that secret within her. For Emerson to be his father, she must have known him before she had been married to his father. She had lied to Lester, and she had lied to him—and that hurt almost as much as carrying twenty years of hate within himself.

“I need…I need a minute.” His heart heavy, David left the room, stalking down the hall in great strides until he reached his own bedroom. It was only after he'd closed and locked the door behind himself that he finally expelled a shaky breath, raking his hands through his mussed hair.

He had to breathe.

He had to get through this.

Had he really survived the last two decades only to crumble now? For as long as he could remember, David had been the strongest person he knew. He'd worked his way through both high school and college, supported his mother while he was still studying for SATs, and been successfully hired to one of the most renown tech companies in the world. Were his demons now going to envelop him and kick him when he was down?

Suddenly, he was faced with an almost violent desire for Charlotte.

Certainly, she'd never known exactly how terrifying the skeletons in his closet were; but, in her own way, she'd tried to help. He'd never been able to talk to her as she'd wished; but, the few weeks that he'd been with her had been some of the most fulfilling, albeit confusing, times in his life.

He desperately wished that there had been some way to take Emerson down without hurting her. He was going to have to work to dig himself out of a massive hole and that would be task enough without pining for a woman he would never have.

At a sudden knock on his door, David frowned. He'd said he needed a minute. Not that he didn't appreciate all the help Marshall and Leah were offering, but he needed time to regain his composure. His mouth set in a firm line, he crossed his small bedroom and yanked open the door.

Then, he froze.

Staring up at him were the bright blue eyes, gorgeous face, and pouting mouth of none other than Charlotte Mathers. There were bags under her eyes that suggested that she hadn't been sleeping well, and her clothes were somewhat less pressed than usual. However, it was her in the flesh. Faced with such a surprise, David had no idea to react.

He simply stared.

“David, I'm sorry man.” Marshall's head popped up behind her, his expression irritated. “She barged her way in. Said she had to speak with you.”

“David, please.” Charlotte's voice sounded almost as weary as he felt. “We need to talk.”

He should refuse her.

He still remembered her chilling scream when he'd hit her father and the way she'd looked at him after. It was as if he were an absolute stranger. That had been one of the most painful moments of the past week. It had been like she'd turned on him in an instant, all while he'd been trying to save her.

“It's fine, Marshall.” He had to force the words out, but when they finally came, the blonde woman before him sagged in relief. “Just give us a few minutes. I'm sure Charlotte doesn't have a terribly large list of things to go over.”

Charlotte winced at the sarcasm in his voice before setting her own jaw firmly. Marshall shot her a suspicious look before reluctantly turning towards the living room. Hesitantly, Charlotte stepped over the threshold to his room, and, all at once, David was embarrassed. He'd always told himself to be proud of what he had because he'd worked his ass off for it, but his tiny Lower East Side apartment seemed woefully small when he mentally compared it to Charlotte's uptown penthouse.

It was a house, he reminded himself, that had been bought with Mathers money—which was about as filthy as it came in his opinion. The realization hardened him, and as he closed the door behind Charlotte, his embarrassment disappeared.

A feeling that still lingered, no matter how much he tried to dispel it, was the acute awareness of the queen sized bed that took up most of the space in the room. Now that he knew that Charlotte was his half-sister, David had tried numerous times to conjure up feelings of disgust when he remembered the intimacy they'd shared. The problem was that he simply couldn't. When he remembered Charlotte's sighs and coos of pleasure and the way she arched against him when he hit that sublime spot inside her, he still became painfully aroused.

Even now, he was struggling against the quickly awakening organ between his legs.

The woman across from him didn't appear to be unaffected either. She glanced at the bed several times before hesitantly settling on the very edge of it. It took a moment, but David finally followed suit, sitting at the extreme opposite end of the mattress.

“Well?” he finally asked in a low voice. He couldn't think of a single reason for why the heir to the Mathers fortune would have come to visit him now. Wasn't she supposed to be planning a lawsuit of massive proportions against him?

For a moment, Charlotte said nothing. Then, with a shaking hand, she withdrew a thick manila folder full of papers from her bag. Placing it on the bed, she edged it towards him. When he glanced up at her in question, he was shocked to find her gaze completely unsure.

“These…” she started slowly, before clearing her throat, “I found these on my father's private server in the manor in Long Island. I assume they're going to be in agreement with anything you might want to tell me about your family and why you did what you did.”

David's gaze became slightly disbelieving for a moment before he picked up the folder from the bed and opened it. A thick stack of pages met his gaze, all patents. However, unlike the patents he'd become used to working with over the past six months, these were not marked with the name Mathers Incorporated, but with that of his father, Lester Marscomb.

Or, at least the man he'd thought was his father.

No.

At the blasphemous thought, David hardened his resolved. Even in death, Lester was ten times the father that Emerson would ever be. The man was trying to have him put away for God's sake. He delighted in his torment! Though his father might have had problems, David knew that Lester Marscomb had loved him until the day he'd died. His love had been so overwhelming that he committed suicide.

He couldn't imagine Emerson Mathers ever taking his own life because of love for another human being. The man would be selfish until the day he died, without question.

As David flipped through the papers, he felt himself becoming more and more desolate. There were images of Emerson and his father together, working on a new schematic, dates of both hiring and termination, personal letters from Lester Marscomb practically begging Emerson to retract his blacklisting requests from all nearby companies. It was a paper trail of suffering. When David finally came to the nude pictures of his very young and gullible mother, he'd had enough. “So what?” He tossed the folder aside in disgust as he drew his hands over his face, his heart like a rock in his chest. “Now that you know what your father has done, I've become someone for you to pity?”

“No,” Charlotte replied quietly. She looked at her hands rather than face him. “That's not it at all. I came here to…to apologize for taking everything my father said at face value.”

“Why would you apologize for that?” David demanded, laughing lowly at the irony of the situation. “He might have spouted egregious amounts of lies, but the part about me scheming to bring the company down was spot on. I entered into the firm in order to destroy it, Charlotte, just like your father destroyed my family.”

He was probably ruining any chances he might have at building a proper case against Emerson now, but David couldn't remain silent. He had plenty to say, and since Charlotte had always been so keen on having him talk, she could just sit there and listen. “Not that he had any right to judge, but I might as well be the villain he painted me to be. It was certainly enough for him to toss me in a cell, wasn't it?”

“You got sent to the precinct because you hit my father.” Charlotte's words were somewhat wry, as she gazed up at him. “You broke the man's jaw, for Christ’s sake.”

“He deserves worse, and I'm not ashamed to say it.”

“And you think that you can just dispense your particular brand of justice and there won't be any consequences? Jesus, David, we're blood related. How could you just…overlook that?”

“Overlook?” David shot to his feet in outrage. “Believe me, had I known that the man had anything to do with my parentage, Charlotte, I'd have taken my own life long before I worked up the resources to infiltrate the company. I didn't know a single detail about him and my mother before he mentioned it. Or are you going to believe what he said about me in that arena, as well?”

Charlotte looked immediately humbled. Taking back the folder, she slipped it into her bag once more before standing herself. As she did, her expression crumpled. When she looked at him again, her face was raw with emotion. Her hurt was so blatant that he actually winced, his own heart aching. “Did you ever care about me at all, David? Even a little bit?”

What the hell kind of question was that?

Did she really believe that he had only been pretending to have feelings for her? Where they'd been…what they'd done…it wasn't something you could feign. While he wouldn't go as far as admitting that he'd fallen completely for her, the fact that he still longed for her when it was her company that had ruined his life—it was no small indicator of exactly how strong his feelings were. “If you really have to ask yourself that, Charlotte, you're more like your father than I thought.”

At the statement, her eyes shimmered with moisture. Neither of them spoke for what seemed like an eternity. They only stared at each other, trying to figure out exactly how they had ended up where they were.

“David, you were after the company I devoted my life to. You know I can't let that stand.”

“I was trying to do it in a way that wouldn't hurt you. It's not something I'd expect you to understand.”

“I understand plenty.” The young woman dashed her tears away angrily. “You were willing to close down a company that provides millions of jobs to people worldwide simply to assuage your own pride.”

David had pondered the exact point more than once in the three days that he'd spent in jail, making the statement sting all the more. Perhaps, in hindsight, he could see the criminality of what he'd been trying to achieve. However, he believed that if Emerson lost the thing that was most important to him, it would hurt him the most—and he wanted the man to suffer.

But, Charlotte was right.

He'd been wrong to try and take down the entire company.

“I was wrong,” he finally admitted. “I was shallow and single-minded, and I admit that it brought out an ugly side of me. But…” he hesitated before going on, “it also brought me to you, Charlotte, and that's got to count for something.”

“Don't.” Charlotte flinched, shaking her head. “We're…brother and sister. We can't think about anything like that anymore.”

David only laughed, hollowly. “Right. Nearly forgot that little detail. And to think I could have remained blissfully unaware if it hadn't been for my own impatience. I look nothing like the man, after all—and thank God for that.”

“You don't look anything like us at all,” Charlotte said, as she gave him a small, sad smile. “David…”

He was leaning back against the bed, contemplating the ways he'd love to hypothetically murder Emerson Mathers. It was a pastime he often enjoyed, and it seemed that the justifications for the act mounted with each passing hour. “Yes, Charlotte.”

“Dad lied about everything. About the company, the patents, designing his own tech…even his relationship with your mother. He never even spoke of it.”

“Why would he?” David asked, snorting. “It's not like he ever even cared about her. Probably just thought of her as a way to pass the time.”

“Exactly. Why would he want to claim you after all this time?”

“Ha. He's hardly claiming me. More like he just wants to torture me.”

“What if he's just lying about your parentage, as well? Just to get the last word and to drive you to do something stupid?”

As if he hadn't been idiotic enough already.  Even so, when she spoke the words, David felt a tiny spark of hope. The idea wasn't outlandish. Emerson had lied through most of his adult life. It wouldn't be a stretch that he would say something just to twist the knife in an already oozing wound.

But then, there was his mother to consider. Though she hadn't outright said that Emerson was his father, she'd practically admitted her guilt when she'd fled at his questions. Her expression when he'd posed his questions had been the most he'd garnered from her in over ten years. That couldn't simply be a fluke.

“My mother,” he said in a low voice, his stomach churning, “she didn't deny it.”

“But she didn't confirm it, either,” Charlotte said, arching her brow. David was surprised that Charlotte would challenge the claim since the evidence all seemed to fit.

Why would want to dispute the claim so desperately? Unless…unless she had some impetus for wanting it to be untrue.

The thought made his heart warm.

She still loved him. Even though the prospect of something dangerous and taboo currently sat between them, she still had feelings for him. And he for her.

What a peculiar world they lived in.

“Let's assume that we could somehow prove my parentage.” He humored her for a moment, sitting up. “I'm sure that Emerson wouldn't simply submit to the test. In fact, I'm sure that if he knew that you were here, now, he'd be extremely displeased.”

“I don't give a rat's ass what my father thinks,” Charlotte replied, her tone was extremely vehement—so much so that it gave him pause. It was strange. While they'd been together, he'd known Charlotte to be confused, upset, and angry when it came to her father. She craved his affection but was ultimately torn by the way he treated other people.

It seemed that some recent event had served as the final straw. Now, when she spoke of her father, he saw not even the tiniest ray of brightness in her eyes—only dark resignation.

“Charlotte,” he ventured, “why did you step from the position of CEO?”

At the question, Charlotte barked a harsh laugh. “Step down? Is that what they're saying?” She shook her copious blonde curls so they caught the light streaming in through the window. For a moment, David's breath caught at her beauty. “I was forced to defer. Now, someone my father favors is in power. He feels it’s safer that way, and he thinks I'm gullible and inefficient.”

Of course, Emerson would feel that way. He didn’t care how many jobs he created or how his products boosted the economy in impoverished nations. There would be no Christmas bonuses, charitable projects, or unneeded expenses. As far as he was concerned, the company existed as his own private funnel of cash. While, yes, Charlotte had run the company in the red, it had been for good causes. She'd begun to turn around the company’s reputation as a solely profit-run company.

And now all that was bound to be reversed.

“If it means anything, I think that the way you ran the company was what made me realize how wrong I was to try and destroy it.”

Charlotte gazed up at him, her gaze softening. “It does…mean something, I mean. Thanks, David.” When he flushed slightly, she looked away in embarrassment and quickly changed the subject. “We need a paternity test.”

“Right.” David frowned slightly. “But how can we get one without his consent?”

Charlotte scowled as she wracked her brain. “I've no idea. I don't even have access to his medical files. He leaves the country for all his medical work, usually. The broken jaw is one of the first things he's ever had treated in the city.”

“Where does he go?” David demanded, inwardly disgusted by the man's acute paranoia.

“The Bahamas somewhere, I think. I've never gone.”

“Well, perhaps you need to pay a visit to the islands.”

At David's small smile, Charlotte rewarded him with one of her own.

“I can't do it alone,” she said.

“Neither of you can do it without breaking some very real laws.” Charlotte and David jumped, turning to see Leah silhouetted in the doorway. If David was judging the look on her face correctly, she seemed to have heard quite a bit of their conversation. The corners of his mouth turned down.

“Christ, Leah, how long have you been there?”

“Not long.” The dark-haired woman had the decency to blush in embarrassment. “But long enough to hear that you're planning on visiting the Bahamas to dig up Emerson's medical records. Risky by any standards.”

Expelling a long sigh, David tried to be civil. The woman was, after all, supposed to be his attorney. “Do you have any constructive suggestions?”

“I have several, in fact. The first of which is a law stating that medical records in the Nation of the Bahamas are to be released to the next of kin in the event of a medical emergency. I have several books on the laws in the Caribbean. Perhaps, you'd like to emerge from your cave so we can discuss them?”

With that, she shot him a winning wink before turning on her heel and disappearing back down the hall. For a moment, David just stared after her. She was certainly something else. By the time he looked back at Charlotte, she was scowling at him.

He merely shrugged and said, “What? She wants to help.”

“More like she wants in your pants.”

Charlotte was jealous. After all they'd been through in the past few days, she was jealous. This was priceless.

“Slow down, Charlotte. I'm supposed to be your brother, remember?”

Standing huffily, the young woman grabbed her bag as she made to head towards the living room. “I'd be willing to bet money that you aren't actually, so come on. We need to figure this out.”

And with that, she took off down the hall, her heels clicking against the ancient wood flooring.

David's head was spinning. He'd gone from thinking the woman wanted his head on a platter to plotting with her in the space of mere hours. What the hell was next?

Chapter Eight

She was still mad at him.

Sitting next to the man who may or may not be related to her, Charlotte buried her face in a magazine. It had been easy work for her to beg some time off from Causewell. The man seemed to feel so overwhelmingly sorry for her that—instead of her being at his beck and call—it seemed to be the other way around. Plus, there was the fact that the man frequently asked her questions about the policies that her father wanted him to implement. It was almost as if he didn't want to be a complete monster like the man who hired him. The possibility that he may be different from her father threw Charlotte for a loop.

She didn't want to like him. She wouldn't like him.

She had plenty to deal with already and plenty's name was David Marscomb.

Charlotte still hadn't decided how she'd felt about how he’d lied his way into the company and tried to take it down under her nose. Sure, he'd apologized for what he'd done, but he'd still done it. A man like David was smart enough to keep on lying until he reached his ultimate goal.

Somehow, however, she didn't think that he was lying now.

If it came to a contest of dishonesty, Emerson Mathers was far in the lead. Certainly, David was no angel, but her father won the solid gold kewpie doll when it came to manipulating the shit out of people.

It shocked her that she hadn’t seen it sooner. She'd known he was a selfish, paranoid person, but she hadn't thought he'd had it in him to completely destroy a family. Truly, she had never known her father. Now, she was sure that she had no desire to know him, either.

The only thing she needed to know was whether or not he'd been telling the truth about David's parentage. So, off they went on the unexpected holiday she'd originally wanted—though under completely different circumstances.

To add even more oddness to the venture, they hadn't come alone. Leah had insisted on tagging along to bail them out of any hypothetical trouble they got themselves into.

Now, there was a woman she could say for sure she felt absolutely clearly about: Leah was desperate. She kept batting her eyes at David and hanging onto him like she couldn't walk herself. It was pretty obvious and disgusting.

Moe disturbing, however, was the fact that David seemed flattered by her advances.

Well, let him be. They might be working together to figure out who his true father was, but Charlotte was through with him—romantically anyway. Brother or not.

The man had lied to her, cheated her, and tried to take down her life's blood. True, he had done it for his own heartsickness, but could she ever be convinced that he could be truly honest with her? It was a something she could never be sure of.

Consequently, she was still angry at him.

She buried herself in her magazine studiously, trying to ignore the way he chuckled at Leah's jokes. If the lawyer wanted him, she could have him. She was going to be too busy concentrating on how she was going to keep her father from converting the charitable company she'd worked hard to create back into a money-machine for his own private accounts. She didn't know if she'd be able to stand the sight.

Yet, as a secretary, she had little power unless she exploited the advice that Samson frequently sought from her. Just that morning he had sent her three different texts about rejecting ideas that the tech department had submitted to him. It was her father's paranoia acting up again. He was probably worried that Addy was somehow dredging up David's work and modifying it.

Quite the contrary, actually.

In the past few days, despite her demoted status, Adeline had been keeping Charlotte quite well-informed on what was going on in the tech department.

After removing a few fuses that threatened to burn out the devices, every single prototype that David had built was still perfectly functional. There was no need, really, for the company to be rid of them and lose all the money they'd poured into their development.

However, her father wouldn’t hear of keeping a single one. He might be greedy, but he was too paranoid over the potential harm the devices could cause the company to even consider the money that could be made. He'd ordered every single project to be locked in a vault and marked for termination.

His rash decision made Charlotte seethe.

The entire reason he'd cited for removing her from her CEO position was her carelessness when it had come to hiring David. Namely, it had been the billions of dollars she'd supposedly lost the company by devoting resources to devices that would be unusable.

But they still worked.

Mathers Incorporated could make all their money back, if only Emerson wouldn't be such a blind, pig-headed asshole. He was going to drive his precious company into the ground. That would please David most of all.

Sighing, Charlotte put down her magazine for a moment to gaze out of the window at the cloudless sky beyond. They'd left New York about two hours ago, which would make them halfway into their flight. For two more hours she'd have to sit next to David, pretending the smell of him didn't make her lightheaded and that she didn't feel his thigh against hers.

Embarrassingly, she found herself praying, above anything else, that her father had been wrong about him being part of their biological family. It was just because she couldn't stand the thought of him getting the last word when it came to anything, especially anything involving her personal life.

However, she suppose David wouldn't be part of her personal life anymore after this last joint venture. They'd part ways, and she'd have to watch him struggle to escape the charges her father was preparing to file against him. From what she'd heard from Addy, they were massive. If the Mathers Incorporated lawyer managed to get all of them to stick, David would be facing quite a long jail sentence.

And then what would happen to his mother?

David had called the nurse to look after her before they'd left, but all the while, mother and son hadn't made eye contact. From what little she knew about the woman's condition, it was obvious that she was severely detached from what went on around her. However, she was present enough to realize just how angry her son was at her for hiding such a large secret for so long.

Charlotte knew it was wrong of her, but part of her wished the woman would just open her mouth and speak the truth. It was obvious that she'd had intimate relations with Emerson, but that didn't mean they would have had a child together. In fact, she would think that if her father was trying to build up a reputable company, he would try to avoid something as tumultuous as sleeping with a married man's wife.

The entire matter was extremely perplexing and was made even more so by the hoops they had to jump through to acquire the actual medical records. To retrieve them from the private hospital where they were stored, Charlotte was going to have to convince the staff that her father was facing a life threatening situation in the States. Plus, she needed hard copies of the documents, as well as a blood sample.

It would be a bit difficult since all the records department would need to do to confirm or deny the claims would be to pick up the phone and call New York Presbyterian.

As loathe as she was to admit it, Charlotte knew that Leah had come up with a brilliant plan for this situation. Marshall would pose as an orderly at the hospital, answering the phone when they called. Leah and his mother worked as a consultant at the facility, so it had been simple to get Marshall in for the day. Now, they simply had to tell him what number to look for and they would be in.

The records would be in their hands as soon as they got his confirmation that her dear father was, indeed, waiting on triple bypass surgery.

She should be so lucky.

“Hey.” She looked back to find David addressing her, and her face flushed slightly when she realized how close he was. Funnily enough, he seemed to come to the same realization in a millisecond and leaned back to give her space.

“Hey,” she managed to say, regulating her breath carefully. “What is it?”

“I just wanted to thank you…for letting me come along. I know you didn't need to. You could have made the trip yourself. You didn't have to…to do me any favors.”

Well, he was certainly right there. She owed him nothing…but all the same, she couldn't imagine letting him sit at home, waiting with bated breath for her to dictate his future. Honestly, she didn't know what David would do if they discovered that they really were brother and sister.

She didn't know what she would do.

She would certainly consider herself insane for still being so attracted to him.

The plane suddenly banked left, changing course slightly, and her stomach lurched a bit. The young woman pressed her mouth shut, hoping she wasn't in for another series of nausea and vomiting. Recently, she'd been having on and off again discomfort—headaches, back pain, upset stomach. She was sure it was from all the stress she'd endured lately. She hoped there would come a day where she could get back to her normal self, even if David wasn't in the picture.

“Hey, you ok?” This time Leah spoke, and there was genuine concern in her gaze as she looked over at the blonde woman. “You look a bit green.”

“I'm fine,” Charlotte replied quickly, closing her eyes and praying the feeling would pass.

“Don't like flying?” David's low baritone made her shiver slightly, mere inches from her ear. It was criminal how the man could still have the effect he did on her.

“I'm fine with flying.” The words were ground out from between clenched teeth. “I'm just not feeling so well.”

Indeed, when the plane righted, she had to rush to the bathroom and empty the contents of her stomach. It was something she'd grown used to in the past week or two, and she felt immediately better when it was over.

Though both Leah and David eyed her with worried looks, she merely scowled at them both to ward of their questions and they went back to their pleasant conversation. For a moment, Charlotte watched them from her window seat, tamping down the little green monster of jealousy beginning to rear its ugly head. Then, she checked her messages from Addy. While the woman hardly approved of her spending time with David again, when Charlotte revealed to her exactly how the company had become the technological powerhouse it was, the executive had been disgusted at the depth of Emerson's deception. Adeline wasn't on David's side, per say, but she grudgingly agreed to let Charlotte go to the Bahamas to check on the paternity claim.

Honestly, it had been hard to draw even that much from her.

Chapter Nine

The rest of the flight passed without a hitch. The three of them spent their first night on the island checking into the separate hotel rooms they'd reserved and having time to themselves. Charlotte, for her part, spent the evening on her private balcony, marveling at the beauty of the ocean, as waves crashed onto the beach. Though her wealthy father had afforded her many trips to beautiful locations, she suddenly felt free, no longer forced to please him at the drop of a hat.

In fact, she felt freer now than she had in a long time.

Everything had been taken from her, but her mind was clearer than it had been in ages. As soon as she and David cleared up the little matter they'd come for, she was going to return to the firm and start directing Causewell with a little more purpose. If the man wanted to pity her, he'd take her directives, and she'd make sure that her father couldn't do too much damage. She'd work the company her way from right under this nose. Hopefully by the time he realized it, she'd have Samson under her thumb.

David thought he had a way with the ladies? Well, she hadn't even begun to use her charms.

On another note, this island was absolutely gorgeous. Though Charlotte dimly remembered visiting it sometime in her youth, she thought it was much better appreciated as an adult. As they walked off the plane, she received flowers to put in her hair and wear around her neck. Marshall had booked them into one of the most amazing resorts and the customer service had been exemplary.

It was almost as if she was getting the vacation she had so craved.

She, Leah, and David had all been booked in private suites, each complete with its own bedroom, bathroom, kitchenette, and balcony with a beach view. And what a view. The weather was clear and calm, and the ocean was perhaps only twenty meters from the patio outside. If she tried really hard, she could pretend she was here to assuage her own personal desires and not to unravel another of her father's potential untruths. Ultimately, however, it wouldn't matter. She'd make her way back to the office and have Samson eating from the palm of her hand.

Sipping on a piña colada, she closed her eyes, relishing the thought. Even as she did, she had to struggle to picture Samson's face instead of David’s, and she found herself wondering what he was doing at this very instant—two doors down.

As if the heavens had somehow heard her inquiry, there came a sudden knock on her door. The young woman tore herself away from the lilting steel drum music that drifted up from below and the warm tropical breeze.

It had better not be David. If he'd come expecting her to fall all over him, he had another thing coming.

However, when she opened the door, it wasn't the tall, dark, and handsome man who stood before her, but Leah, clad in a pair of Bermuda shorts and a bikini top. It was clear from her damp hair that she'd recently taken a dip in the ocean. Charlotte could only stare at her, utterly at a loss for what to say.

“Um....hi,” Leah said, looking up at the taller woman.

“Hi,” Charlotte replied, her voice flat. She still wasn't overly fond of the flirtatious woman or of the way she acted around David. “Can I help you with something?”

“I figured we could talk.” Leah's tone was neutral, her expression guarded. “We haven't really gotten a chance to, considering that we've spent so much time together lately.”

“We've spent time together because you're helping us plan a way around my father, not because we're girlfriends who are ready to hit the mall, Leah.” The words came out harsher than Charlotte had intended.

Immediately, Leah was on the defensive. “Excuse me? What's your problem? I just want to help David. The only reason why I’m helping you is because David’s asking me to.”

“Oh I'm sure it's all for David,” Charlotte replied, oozing with sarcasm. “How long did it take after you met him to start planning how to get into bed with him?”

Leah's face went slack in outrage. “Well, I suppose you'd know all about that. You were so busy getting into his pants that you happened to overlook a potential familial detail.”

“My father hid that from both of us,” Charlotte answered in a low hiss, her eyes narrow, “and you know it. That's the only reason we're out here, though I'm sure your taking it as an opportunity to sneak into his room as soon as you get the chance. Good luck with that. I'm sure you've heard he's excellent at faking it.”

“You bitch.” Leah's tone was low and trembling. “You don't know anything about him.”

“And you do?” Charlotte shot back before barking a laugh. “You've been his lawyer for what, two weeks?”

“Maybe you're forgetting I'm Marshall's sister, and Marshall has known David for twenty-five years. He knew him when your father hired him and when he fired him in disgrace. He knew him while David was suffering, working three jobs to support his family, and struggling to stay in school. He'd come home to me and tell me how much he admired David for doing what it took to keep going, even though he must be falling apart inside.” Leah shook her head in dark amusement, her smile wry. “You think you know about pain? You're just a little girl with Daddy issues. Could you imagine finding one of your parents dead in the bathtub? Supporting your near- comatose mother through your high school years?  Hell, I'd have been shocked if he hadn't tried something, with all that Emerson Mathers put him through. Now, you stand there and try to tell me you know him better than I do.”

For a moment, Charlotte was struck absolutely dumb. Leah's words were painful, and they were harsh; but, they were also true. Different people dealt with their problems in a variety of ways. What David had tried to do had been wrong, yes; but, it had been how he'd dealt with a lifetime of pain. It was what had kept him from crumbling when the world seemed to be falling to shit around him.

What did she do when the going got tough? Cry on Addy's shoulder. Go shopping. Donate a million to one of the charities she loved to back. She'd thought she was desolate her entire life because an odious man had refused to pay her attention. She'd been showered with whatever she wanted from an early age while David had struggled to keep food on the table. When he'd hidden himself from her, it hadn't simply been because he feared that she would discover his intention to bring the company down. It had also been because he'd known she couldn't possibly understand what he had gone through.

What he was still going through.

As Charlotte struggled to come to grips with her own emotional shortcomings, she warred with her impulses. David had hurt her. He'd lied to her and tried to destroy Mathers Incorporated right under her nose. However, if she had grown up as he'd grown up, laboring for every cent and resenting a name that had destroyed her, what would she have done?

Her breath started to come faster and faster, the room spinning around her. “Oh God,” she said, gasping and her chest heaving. “Oh, Christ.”

“What the hell is wrong?” Leah was immediately by her side, but Charlotte pressed her back.

“Air. I need air.”

It took a full five minutes of her pulling in lungful after lungful of air, all the while battling the panic that threatened to consume her. Eventually, the room stilled and her breath began to regulate. When she could finally look about again comfortably, the first thing that greeted her was Leah's confused face. “Are you OK?”

Despite having just verbally drug her over the coals, the woman seemed genuinely concerned. Charlotte nodded. “I'm fine. Just…I…what you said. You're right. You're right about everything.”

For a moment, Leah just eyed her suspiciously before turning to push the door shut behind her. When that was done, she dropped into a chair across from the blonde, her expression softening somewhat. “Look, I didn't mean to call you a little girl. You're not. It's shitty what your dad is trying to pull.”

“No kidding.”

“And David did break the law by trying to sabotage your company.”

“He did.” Charlotte nodded woodenly in agreement, but it was only because she was sure this conversation was headed in a completely different direction.

“But the world doesn't just operate in black and white, Charlotte. If that's the way you see things, then you're going to end up like your father, and I know that's not what you want.” Sighing, Leah ran fingers through her damp hair, leaning forward to further address the woman before her. “Look, I know you're not a bad person. A bit spoiled, maybe, but not bad. However, if this paternity thing turns out, I think it would be in your best interests to walk away from David.”

“What?” Charlotte feigned ignorance, as her heart immediately began to race. “Of course, I'll walk away from him. The man is either my brother or a man who pretended to love me to get to my father. You can put whatever spin on it you like, but who wouldn't walk away after all that?”

“Because David still loves you, and you still love him.”

Charlotte almost choked on her drink in shock. However, before she could utter any words of denial, Leah merely held up a hand. “Save it. I'm a lawyer. I read people. It's all over both of your faces.”

Charlotte closed her mouth, her cheeks reddening as she looked away. Fine. She still had feelings for him. She'd even admit she probably still loved him. But that didn't mean she wasn't strong enough to walk away, did it?

“Charlotte, please.” Her gaze jerked to Leah's when the dark-haired woman spoke again. “I'm not asking you this because I'm some slut trying to get into David's pants or because I've got something against you. Let's be straight here. The man hurt you. He wronged you—and if he is in your life your father will only go after him harder. You have to let him go.”

“And what about him?” Charlotte asked, her voice in nearly a whisper and her eyes tearing unavoidably.

“I'm working on him,” replied Leah. Her words were so smooth that Charlotte couldn't help but inwardly curse her.

However, she was right.

The woman was damn insightful.

She and David couldn't be together, and she had to let go of any illusion to the contrary. Taking a deep breath and then letting it out, she wiped away the single tear that trekked down her face. When she opened her eyes, Leah had graced her with a small smile. “You know, you're tougher than you look.”

Charlotte sniffled. “How do I look?”

At that, Leah only laughed lowly, her expression teasing. “Like a blonde flower, ready to blow away in the wind.”

“Pfft,” Charlotte replied with a low sound of amusement. “That's really something coming from a Tiny Tim like you.”

“Oh, screw you.” Leah flicked droplets of water from her hair at Charlotte. Shrieking, she retaliated with an ice cube from her drink. The gesture escalated into a full on water fight, the likes of which she hadn't enjoyed since she was a child. Leah claimed the ice bucket and launched a heavy attack while Charlotte countered with sugary flicks of her own fingers.

When the fight was over, they settled down and talked. Charlotte found that Leah wasn't as odious as she first thought her. The woman was firm and blunt— almost like Addy—but she was also quick to see both sides of a conflict while the redhead back in New York fought for Charlotte or for no one at all.

She was alright.

Charlotte fell asleep that night feeling surprisingly content, especially considering that the next morning they were bound for the hospital. They would finally know what they'd travelled so far to find out.

Chapter Ten

Today was the day.

David had been up since five, looking up the number for the hospital records department and getting it to Marshall. For the two hours he'd waited for the girls to get up, he'd been working out incessantly. There had been hundreds of crunches, about half as many push-ups, and he was currently doing pull-ups in the doorway of the bathroom, sweat dripping down his well-toned body.

If he didn't exercise, he would pace, and he hated pacing.

The Bahamas were nice. The tropical breeze blew in through his window, delicious seafood, and amazing ocean views were all top notch; but, he'd come here for a reason. As soon as he had his information, he'd be headed back to New York—to face his enemy head on.

At least he'd have Leah by his side. The woman was quite the character. While Charlotte, at this juncture, seemed reluctant even to talk to him, Leah had no problem breaking things down for him and easing his tension. Despite the fact that they had come to the Bahamas to investigate information that could quite possibly make or break him, she was doing her best to put him at ease. Where Charlotte barely gave him the time of day anymore, Leah had no problem chatting and joking with him.

She was cute, too. The previous night at dinner, she'd been wearing shorts and a bikini top that showed off her trim little torso. The woman was a shameless flirt, and David wasn't sure he minded, especially when he got to see the enraged expression on Charlotte's face when she caught Leah in the act.

That in itself was a problem. He enjoyed Leah's attention more because of the reaction it produced in Charlotte and less because he was actually romantically interested in her.

Why couldn't he truly be interested in Leah?

Because he was still hung up on Charlotte.

If today went the way he wanted, what would they be? Exes? Friends? Almost certainly not the latter. He knew Emerson wouldn’t remain oblivious to the fact that his daughter was gallivanting around with a man he was supposed to be prosecuting. No, even if Charlotte wanted to remain friendly, the Mathers mogul would nip it in the bud—and quickly.

It would be better to just sever things entirely and get on with their lives. Marshall had mentioned to him in a not so subtle way before he'd left that it might be better for him to try and forget Charlotte. Any relations with her would complicate the upcoming court case. Plus, it would further mess with his emotions, which were already fucked up.

After today, it would be over.

Maybe he'd start dating Leah. He was sure Marshall would approve. He could only hope that the little lawyer proved her fierceness and actually got all the charges posted against him dropped. Jail time wouldn't do under any circumstances. Three days had been quite enough for him.

When the door knocked, he dropped to the floor, grabbing a nearby towel that he'd draped over a chair to answer it hurriedly. Both women stood in the doorway, Leah clad in a little green romper number that accentuated her hips and Charlotte in a scarlet sundress that played up her curves beautifully.

They were both attractive woman.

The way they both watched him as he toweled himself off forced him to repress a smile. Charlotte was obviously trying to rebut her feelings of attraction while Leah was much more blatant in her appreciation.

“I take it you're not quite ready, yet.” The dark-haired woman batted her eyes up at him before giving a small wink.

“Gimme ten minutes.” His lips curved slightly, despite the butterflies in his stomach. Both women nodded, and he closed the door before bustling around his room. He took a two minute shower before donning a nondescript shirt and shorts. Then, he went down to the lobby to join them, and the trio hailed a taxi to the hospital.

The exchange at the desk was nail-biting. The private hospital was obviously the refuge of the rich and famous, and it had taken them twenty minutes just to get past the front gates. Patients rolled down halls in electric wheelchairs and were brought meals of caviar and pâté in their state of the art hospital suites. Honestly, David hadn't even known that hospitals like this existed. However, he wasn't in the least surprised that Emerson Mathers came here to be treated. The man had expensive taste.

In the lobby, they were asked to give their signatures and IDs. For a moment, David thought they were done. Then, Charlotte flashed her license and identified herself as one of the hospital's largest donors and the daughter of one of their patients. After that, things went considerably smoother.

They were ushered into the fourth floor medical office, and when the call was placed to New York, David was literally gripping the arms of his chair so hard he thought he would tear them off.

But everything went off without a hitch.

By the time Emerson realized someone took a copy of his files—if he ever did—it would be far too late.

David, however, didn't breathe until they were outside of the hospital. Leah merely laughed off the tension while Charlotte gazed at the small vial of her father's blood. They headed off to another hospital to request the paternity test, which they could pay to have rushed.

Within the hour, David would know who his real father was.

The Royal Bahamian Hospital was considerably less stuffy than its private counterpart in the hills. Since it was a weekday afternoon, ten minutes after they signed in David's blood was taken.

They handed off the medical records to the nurse who attended to him. She flipped through them as soon as she received them. When she reached the fourth page, however, she paused, adjusting her glasses over the bridge of her nose. “Mr. Marscomb,” she said, her voice heavily accented with the Bahamian lilt. “Did you know that the potential father is confirmed HIV positive.”

The world stopped moving.

For an instant, he couldn't breathe, and he couldn't move. Across him Charlotte's face had drained of all its color, and Leah's mouth had fallen open in shock.

HIV positive? Emerson Mathers?

“Let me see that, please.” His hand slightly unsteady, the man took the records back from the nurse. Sure enough, there was an entire page devoted to tests for viral diseases and halfway down was the result for the screening of HIV antibodies.

HIV anti screening:  pos+

It was true. The man had HIV.

If David was his biological son, then…Jesus.

Charlotte.

The blonde haired woman seemed to be slipping down in her seat, somewhat lost. Quickly, David gestured to the nurse. “Ma'am, can you take some additional bloodwork?”

“Sir, I assure you we took a full panel from you. You'll be getting your results in half an hour.”

“Not me.” David pointed at a swooning Charlotte. “Her. She needs a full panel as well.”

For a moment, the nurse gazed between the two of them in disbelief before finally speaking slowly. “The patient would have to sign in, but there should be no problem taking the additional bloodwork.”

Immediately, David was across the room, still holding his own cotton ball to his arm. “Charlotte, listen to me. This doesn't mean anything.”

“HIV…” Charlotte was shaking her head slowly. “It can't be. I can't…”

Ignoring Leah's hard look, David took one of Charlotte’s hands in his, his only thought to comfort her when she was obviously in a panic. “Let them take the blood, Charlotte. We'll know for sure. Just let them do a full work up. Thirty minutes, that's all.”

Dimly, she nodded. A hesitant nurse brought the clipboard to sign her in and within moments, she was having her own blood drawn.

The next thirty minutes were the longest of his life.

That scumbag. He'd been infected this entire time and he hadn't even thought to tell his own daughter? He was certain Charlotte had been tested numerous times throughout her life, but she'd cited receiving her father's blood on several occasions and giving in kind. Surely, the man wouldn't be sick enough to have let her do such a thing without telling her?

And what about him?

Exactly how long had Emerson been afflicted?

If the man was his father…well…David had never had proper testing. He'd considered himself healthy as a horse, and he was unable to spend the hundreds of dollars it would have cost to get tested without insurance. He was careful. He'd never done drugs or had a sexual encounter without protection.

But now it might all be for naught.

Leah sat between the two of them, looking from one to the other, her expression torn. She knew there was nothing she could say to ease the tension of that torturous thirty minutes. Around them, the beeping of hospital machines and the groaning of the infirmed seemed to mock them.

Would they ultimately be relegated to the same fate?

Finally, the nurse reappeared.

Solemnly, she sat down on a chair between them. First, she turned to David. “Mr. Marscomb, the paternity test you requested was negative. Emerson Mathers is not your biological father.”

Though David prided himself on hiding his emotions, he could have shouted to the ceiling in triumph. The man had been lying once again. Perhaps he somehow thought that the affair between Miranda and himself had produced David, and he was sorely mistaken. Either way, the man was no blood of his, and for that, he was eternally grateful. “Additionally,” the nurse went on, smirking slightly at his triumphant expression, “all your STD tests have come back negative, including HIV. Your glucose, insulin, and platelet levels are all normal.”

Thank God.

Leah reached across the gap between them to squeeze his hand with a warm smile; but, already, David was focused on Charlotte, sitting white knuckled in the chair across from him.

When the nurse turned to her, she visibly flinched. “Miss Mathers, I'm pleased to tell you that all your tests have come back perfectly normal as well.” The woman visibly sagged in her seat, relief carved onto every feature of her face as her eyes slid shut. “However,” the nurse’s face had adopted a now somewhat confused expression as she continued, “the results of the paternity test you signed for were negative, as well.”

“What?” Leah's voice was the first to ring through the room, as the woman's mouth dropped open in pure shock. “What paternity test? Charlotte, what the hell did you sign for?”

“I thought it was just part of the paperwork.” Charlotte’s eyes were wide, as she stared at the nurse in disbelief. “Where does it say I asked for this?”

“Right here.” The nurse extracted a clipboard from the desk behind her, flipping to the fourth page where Charlotte had indeed signed a request for a paternity test. She must have been in such shock from the news about her father that she'd signed it unwittingly. Whatever the reason, they now found themselves in a stranger situation then they had before.

“Negative…” Charlotte breathed, looking back at the nurse once more. “That's the same as David. That means that my father isn't…”

“He isn't your biological father.” The dark-skinned orderly seemed just as surprised as Charlotte was as she looked at the result closely through her horn-rimmed glasses. “None of the genetic markers were found.”

“Oh my God.” Charlotte seemed barely conscious, as she stared right through the woman before her. “Oh my God.”

Charlotte wasn't Emerson's real daughter.

What the hell?

“Um, guys? I think we should grab the paperwork and go.” As shocked as she seemed, Leah was the first to regain her wits. From the briefcase she constantly carried with her, she withdrew a sheaf of forms. She pulled the nurse quietly aside and requested that both she and her supervisor sign the confidentiality paperwork and then return the documents to their hotel.

Meanwhile, David had taken a numb Charlotte's hand to help her from her chair. The young woman was shaking her head in disbelief.

“Not my father?”

She remained silent all the way back to the hotel. Wary of the looks he was giving the former CEO, Leah graciously offered to take Charlotte back to her room.

Now, hours later, David lounged on the hammock on his private deck, marveling at all that had happened. Emerson had been full of shit—more than he'd ever imagined. Not only had everything he'd said about being David's father been false, he'd apparently been lying to Charlotte her entire life about her parentage.

Did the man ever tell the truth?

There were few times in his life where David found that the hypothetical disdain he hosted for an individual was actually merited. It seemed in Emerson Mathers case, he deserved all he got and more. The look on Charlotte's face when she'd found out he was HIV positive…and then when she wasn't related to him at all?

Jesus, what a way to find out.

But the HIV...Christ. If he'd still been plotting against Mathers Incorporated that would have been one hell of a blow to deal the man. David had no idea if he'd been born with it and it was just beginning to rear its ugly head, or if the man had contracted the disease sometime over the course of his miserable life, but man, what a blow.

He wondered how Charlotte was doing. Once already, Leah had come to check on him. When he'd asked about Charlotte, the dark-haired girl had merely thrown her hands up and walked away. She was a carbon copy of her brother. When David had insisted that it would be more complicated than Marshall could imagine to merely forget Charlotte, the man had only scoffed.

And now, he was faced with exactly that decision.

Charlotte's potential adoption was none of his business. Hell, he should walk away right now and let her duke it out personally with her father. The man might be right and powerful, but he'd love to see what happened when Charlotte slapped her father with a mountain of fraud charges. That would be something. However, he should really concentrate on how he was going to fight Emerson in court. Revealing the man's medical condition was out of the question as, even though the tabloids would go crazy, the law would disprove the findings since they were unlawful. Additionally, unveiling such a huge secret might endanger the reputation of the company and, surprisingly, that was no longer at the top of David's to do list.

Not if it would hurt Charlotte.

Christ, what was he doing?

She was three doors down and probably at a loss for what to do. She'd been through so much in the past few weeks, and he'd been so wrapped up in his own issues that he'd barely deigned to address hers. He wasn't a monster.

If they were to part, at least it could be on good terms.

Sighing, the man rose from his hammock and left his room, making sure the door was securely locked behind him. It took him less than a minute to reach Charlotte’s door, and she answered on the third knock.

Her eyes were dry and clear. She was dressed in a silky nightgown, her blonde hair falling down over her shoulders in golden waves. Her face was free from even the tiniest bit of makeup. She didn't seem like a woman on the brink of a breakdown.

She was absolutely gorgeous.

“Hi.” His voice came out huskier than he would have liked, and he quickly cleared his throat, stepping back to give her additional space.

“Hi,” she replied, simply. For a moment, they merely stared at each other. Then, Charlotte seemed to catch herself. Moving back from the door, she made way from him. “Sorry, did you want to come in?”

“Just for a minute.” The temptation was too great to resist. He decided he'd go in, spend a few precious moments with her, then it would be formalities all the way back to New York where they would part ways. He entered her room, closing the door behind himself. The space was decorated with the same airy, breezy colors as his own room—though her view was slightly better.

“Um...do you want a drink or something?” When she turned, he could see that the nightgown dipped low over the small of her back, revealing a length of perfect, tanned skin.

David swallowed thickly.

“A whiskey would be nice.”

“Oh. I didn't know you liked whiskey.” A small smile touched her lips, as she moved to the minibar to pour him a drink.

“I don't usually drink,” he responded, “but when I do, it's a nip here and there of Marshall's blue label.”

“Well, this is Jameson.” She held out the glass to him. “I hope it doesn't ruin your refined palette.” The jest drew a slight curve of lips from him before he sipped his drink. She was having some fruity concoction brought to her by the resort, topped with pineapple and a cherry. They drank in silence for a good ten minutes before either tried to speak.

“I just wanted—”

“I have to say—”

David stopped as their words tangled, unable to resist a low laugh. “You go first.”

“Alright.” Charlotte nodded, steeling herself. “I wanted to thank you.”

David arched a brow. As far as he could remember, he hadn't done anything that might require thanking. Quite the contrary, actually. “For what, exactly?”

“For everything. Starting at the company, doing what you did, exposing my father…Emerson…for what he's really like. I always knew he had issues but, God, if I'd only known how deep they ran.” She shook her head in disbelief, sipping from her drink before looking to him once more. “So, I have to thank you. If none of this had happened, I'd still be in the dark.”

Well, that was unexpected.

He'd thought she'd still be pretty angry over his attempt the pull the company out from under her. Then again, ultimately, it hadn't been her he was after.

“Well, no problem. I'm just glad you know now.”

It sounded incredibly awkward, but Charlotte didn't seem to notice. Instead, she was staring out at the moon over the open sea. When she next spoke, her words shocked him. “David, I want to do something for you and your mother.”

His eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

“All this time,” Charlotte mused, “All the happiness my father and Mathers Incorporated has stolen from you. You deserve some peace. Compensation, at least.”

His stomach twisting, David took a long drag of his drink as he remembered the day he had walked into the bathroom and saw the dead, swollen body of his father. As long as he lived, the image would remain with him.

“Charlotte, no disrespect, but nothing you do can bring back my father.”

In the silence that followed, Charlotte took a breath. When she turned back to him, her expression was firm. “I know that. But even so, I'm going to do something. Your mother needs professional, around-the-clock care. I can take care of that. You need a bigger apartment. That can be acquired as well. Compensation for all the patents your father contributed to our firm—that money is rightfully yours.”

“Charlotte, no. Your father would never approve.”

“He's not my father,” she responded, gently. “I don't know who my real father is, but I know that I have my own money. An irrefutable trust fund that I came into when I was thirty. Thirty million dollars. I haven't touched it. I want you to have it.”

David staggered slightly, supporting himself against the nearest wall.

She couldn't be serious.

There was no way he could accept that kind of money. When he opened his mouth to protest, Charlotte beat him to the punch. “Don't tell me you won’t take it because I won't take no for an answer. Your family deserves this money, David. You deserve it. Take it for your father.”

Was he really even considering this?

All his life, he'd thought that his father would never rest easy if David didn't exact some sort of revenge on the company that had wronged him.

But wasn't this better?

Compensation for a measure of the work he had done, with money going to his family, whom he had loved more than life itself? His mother could finally get the care she needed, and David would never have to worry about money again. The money was Mathers’ money, of course, but it was also his father's.

“I'll…think about it,” he finally said, draining the remainder of his whiskey in one gulp.

“Not that it will change anything, but you do that,” Charlotte quipped in return, her eyes flashing with fire. “The money will be in your account by the time we return to New York and after that point...I assume...we won't be seeing one another much anymore.”

David's heart suddenly ached.

He didn't want to give her up.

After all they had been through together and all they still had to go through, he needed her. Despite what Leah and Marshall proclaimed, he wanted her.

“I suppose you're right.” The words were the hardest he'd spoken since keeping up his ruse in the office back in New York. “Starting tomorrow, we're acquaintances again, right?”

“Right. If my father finds out about this…about the patents and your actual parentage…he'll try to bury you deep.”

“I doubt he could bury me deeper than he did my father.” David's bitter reply made Charlotte wince slightly, but she shook her head.

“I'm trying to decide how to approach him about my parentage. Why the hell would the man adopt a girl he didn't even want? I don't understand it.”

Setting her drink down on the table, she flopped onto a nearby sofa, letting her arm dangle as she stared at the ceiling. It was clear from the flush at her bosom that she was slightly inebriated. When she sank into a lying position, her knee length night down slid upward, revealing a decadent length of thigh that tested David's composure.

“Neither do I,” he said in a low voice, setting his own empty glass down on the bar. “No one knows what goes through Emerson Mathers' head.”

“He's never let me get close to anyone. No one.” Laughing bitterly, the young woman shook her head in disgust. “All this time, he's been watching me, and I should have been watching him.”

“You didn't know, Charlotte.” David felt as if he were outside his own body, watching himself cross the room to sink onto the sofa beside her and stare down at her bare face, glowing in the low light of the suite. “It wasn't your fault.”

“That doesn't make me feel any better.” She groaned, covering her face with her hands for a moment before she looked up at the face hovering over hers, her mouth suddenly parting slightly. The next words she spoke made his heart seize in his chest.

Reaching up, Charlotte cupped his jaw in a hand, her expression soft. “You're so beautiful, David,” she whispered, the fragrant smell of cherries and pineapple accompanying her statement. “So beautiful to have suffered so much.”

Her words broke him.

With a tortured sound, David bent his head to mold his mouth to hers. Almost immediately, Charlotte's arms went around his neck, and she moaned as his tongue slid past her lips to plunder her own. She was just as sweet and succulent as he remembered. Her breath was colored by the tropical drink she'd been sipping. David ran his hands through her copious blonde locks, drinking in the feel of her silky strands and sliding over her impossibly soft skin.

She was absolutely perfect.

With a groan, he righted them both, pulling her into his lap to have her even closer. Charlotte wrapped her legs around his waist, bringing the crux of her legs flush against his awakening arousal so a jolt of sensation flooded his system.

“David…” His name was a moan on her lips, as she bit and licked at his mouth. “David, I want you.”

As if he could deny her.

His hands roved from her shoulders down to span her waist before he encircled her hips, lifting her with him as he stood. Indulgently, he ground his growing erection against her, as their mouths worked against one another in delicious tandem.

They had never gotten to take the vacation that she wanted, and this almost made up for it. Soft music from the beach drifted in through the window along with the scent of the sea and the rhythm of the waves.

David lay his golden goddess against the white silken sheets, taking a moment to admire her beauty. Now, he didn't want to think about the past or the future, only the present. Presently, he wanted the woman he'd been denied for so long. Reaching down, he slid the straps of her nightgown from her shoulders, tugging the diaphanous material down her torso until it pooled at her waist, revealing the glorious globes of her breasts.

Eagerly, David bent to take a nipple into his mouth. When Charlotte's breath immediately hitched in pleasure, the sound went straight to his erection, which was now pulsing painfully within his shorts.  Leisurely, he laved the darkened tips of her beasts with moisture until she was arching and cooing against him, her flesh hard against his tongue. She was like a fine wine that he could never get enough of. He would forever be drugged.

Reaching for him, Charlotte's hands tangled in his hair to pull him towards her once more. As they shared another heated kiss, she worked his shirt up and over his chest, ultimately tossing it somewhere in the room to be found at a later date. Then, she sat up, pressing her lithe body against him, causing him to moan at the feel of her bare breasts against his chest. Within moments, she had pressed him backward against the mattress, straddling him as she worked at the fastenings of his pants impatiently.

After a few seconds, however, she finally freed the button and carefully pulled down the zipper. David thought that she might free him of his pants and underwear altogether; but, instead, she merely withdrew his pulsing arousal from the front of his underwear and began to stroke madly, making his thighs tense. He bucked into her grip helplessly, bouncing her with the bower of his lower body.

Atop him, the blonde woman licked her lips in anticipation, rising slightly to wiggle out of panties that were the same color as her nightgown. Then, he felt the slick, hot wetness of her, as she slid against his cock.

A strangled noise escaped him as she teased him, rubbing the cleft of herself back and forth over the tip of him. When he finally took hold of her hips, forcing her to take him inside, they made sounds of pleasure. David's rumbled deeply through his chest, as he felt her squeezing him exquisitely.

This was what he had craved.

When the whole world had been caving in on him, he'd only wanted to be with someone and to have it feel right.

As she rode him, Charlotte's head fell back, her hair tumbling down her back in a grand profusion of curls that had him catching his breath. The way her body undulated, those intoxicating blue eyes stared down at him, and her mouth parted as her inner muscles clamped down on him…

He wouldn't last long.

Indeed, the moment she placed his hands on her hips and increased their pace, he began to come apart. Grasping her firmly, he began to move her almost fervently over him until the pressure had his eyes rolling in their sockets. By the frequency of her gasps and moans, Charlotte was close as well. When he gave one final, powerful thrust upward, she cried his name and stiffened atop him, as her muscles milked him exquisitely.

He could no more resist the pull of his own climax than he could stop breathing. With a hoarse cry, he tumbled over the edge, clutching her for dear life, as his body jerked and pulsed.

Finally, both of them were still. Without a word, Charlotte slid from atop him, finding the edge of the blanket so they could both climb underneath. Then, she nestled close to him, her expression sated and serene.

Tomorrow would bring complications; but, for now, David wasn't worried about tomorrow. It would come soon enough. Right now, Charlotte was in his arms. He hadn't a care in the world, and everything was right.

Chapter Eleven

Charlotte was awoken the next morning by an insistent knocking on the door. As she gradually came back to consciousness, the first face that greeted her was David's, still lax from sleep and sporting half a face full of stubble. As the knock came again, her stomach suddenly roiled.

Bolting upright, she raced for the bathroom, reaching the toilet just in time.

Christ, she must have had more to drink last night than she'd thought. As she wiped her mouth with a trembling hand, she heard David rise to answer the door. The following exchange made her groan, laying her head back against the toilet seat.

“Where is she? I know she's in here.”

“Leah, please.” David still sounded half asleep. “Can't we discuss this later?”

“David, what are you doing? Have you forgotten that when you get back to the city, Emerson will tear you apart if he catches you with his daughter?”

“She's not his daughter.”

“As far as the law is concerned she is. I'm assuming Mathers wouldn't have neglected something as simple as legal adoption. How are we supposed to be forming a relevant case when you can't keep away from her?”

“Leah, it's not that simple.”

“Yes. It is. You just don't sleep with her, for Christ’s sake. Look, I'm not trying to speak ill of Charlotte's character. We know that she was as much as a victim as you were; but, the man is going to be looking for any excuse, David. He could have you charged for rape or molestation if he put the right spin on the story!”

“Charlotte would never corroborate that,” replied David, firmly and with confidence—making Charlotte smile from within the bathroom. “She'd tell the truth.”

“David, if Emerson gets his claws in her. If he threatens her or, God forbid, hurts her, who knows what she would say?”

At that moment, Charlotte made her way to her feet to reenter the bedroom, her expression severe. “I would never ever let them pin something like that on David.”

Leah was dressed for their departure in dark slacks and a light sweater. Her hair was pulled back from her livid face into an up-do. “Charlotte, how can you still be so blind? The man has lied and cheated his way to the top of the world. I'm willing to doubt that there is absolutely nothing he wouldn't do to get his way.”

“There's no way I would testify against David. He'd have to drag my bodily to the stand.”

“That could be arranged.”

All of them turned, dread pooling in Charlotte's stomach at the sound of the chilling, muffled voice.

Standing in the doorway was none other than her father. This time he was flanked by what appeared to be members of some secret organization. They wore flashy suits and ties to cover their bulk, but they looked mean. The way they immediately scrutinized her nakedness had her grabbing a nearby cushion to cover her vulnerable bits.

“Charlotte, Charlotte, Charlotte.” The man's voice had taken a soft, almost pitying tone, that she'd long learned signified danger. “You wound me. This man tries to sabotage the company we built together, lies to you, and breaks your heart and still you crawl through the mud with him.”

“You're the liar!” Charlotte spat, fury washing over her in hot, sickening waves. “You stole everything. The patents, the prototypes. You even stole another man's wife. Have you ever told the truth about anything in your life?”

“I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about,” he replied, his gaze cool.

“We have papers.” Leah threatened. “Evidence that most of Mathers Incorporated patents were stolen from Lester M. Marscomb over a number of years. We won't hesitate to go to the press.”

“With papers stolen from my private server? I don't think those will hold up very well in court,” he responded, chuckling darkly and shaking his head. “Any information taken without my consent will never see the light of day, this I promise you.”

“And what about your illness?” asked David, speaking for the first time since Emerson entered the room. He seemed surprisingly calm, considering the last time he'd seen the man he had injured him. “I'm sure that's already seeing the light of day. What treatments are you taking, Mathers? Retrovirals? Preventatives? At your age, HIV is a nasty business.”

For a moment, the man's face contorted into an expression so enraged that Charlotte took a step back. Though she knew her father was capable of great cruelty, she had never imagined him committing actual physical violence. However, when he looked at David, she didn't doubt it for a moment; but, as quickly as the look had surfaced, it was gone, replaced once more by Emerson's cool, infuriating smugness.  “You know, slander is a very real crime, boy. One I'd be happy to add to the already long list of charges pending against you.”

“And what about fraud?” Leah's eyes were now narrowed in hate. “Say, claiming the parentage of a child that's not actually yours? Leading two sexually involved people to believe that they're blood related? Or, how about we try this one on for size—never revealing to someone that they're not your own flesh and blood while still forcing them to take on duties relegated to them as if they were? I'd say that's a hell of a case against you, Mathers.”

For a moment, they stared one another down, the tiny lawyer and the massive business mogul. Their gazes were so intense that Charlotte swore a fire was going to spring out of thin air. Ultimately, her father merely turned from her and said, “Mr. Thompson, Mr. Riker? Please retrieve my daughter.”

Instantly, the men moved past him and headed for Charlotte. She tripped over her own legs, backing up to escape them. From beside her, David bellowed in sudden rage, and Leah gasped in shock.

Before Charlotte could even hit the floor, her arm was taken in a strong grip. She squeezed by one of the agents pursuing her, and the other was currently grappling with David; but, one was more than enough. The man who held her was massive, his grip so strong it was actually cutting off the circulation in her arm.

“Let go,” she demanded, struggling despite her nakedness. “You're hurting me.”

“Don't touch her.” David's tone was laced with malice the likes of which she'd never heard before. “I'll kill you. I will murder you.”

“Here's how this little scenario is going to play out, children.” Everyone froze as Emerson's voice permeated the air again, drawing all attention to him. “Charlotte, you will come with me. You will not struggle. If you don't comply, I will have your pathetic little boyfriend thrown in the roughest Bahamian jail I can find on charges so outrageous that no one in their right mind would take his case. He will rot there, at the very least, for a year.”

“Charlotte, don't you go with him.” David was still struggling against the agent he had clashed with. “I don't care what he says. You stay right there.”

“You, keep exerting Mr. Riker, and I will mark Charlotte black and blue in front of you until you decide otherwise.”

Almost immediately, David stilled, allowing Mr. Riker to land a blow on his cheek, snapping his head back and bloodying his mouth.

“David!” Charlotte's cry echoed throughout the room.

“You.” Emerson pointed a meaty finger at Leah, who was trembling in rage. “I don't know who the hell you are, but I swear I will find out. And when I do, you will rue the day you ever sought to go against me. Thompson, bring her.”

With that, the man holding Charlotte began to drag her toward the door, never mind the fact that she was still without a stitch of clothing, and there was nothing she could do.

“Charlotte...” David's voice was utterly broken as he called after her, blood pouring down his jaw.

Time seemed to slow down as Thompson edged her closer and closer to her father's side. When she finally reached him, she looked over every frayed vein, his balding head, his wired jaw, and his flagrantly expensive suit, and she hated him. Emerson merely gave her a once over before he raised an arm to backhand her with no small amount of strength.

As her head canted to the side, she saw stars and searing pain spreading down her jaw and neck. She heard David's bellow of fury, but she was dragged, nonetheless, from the room, still dazed. As they pulled her through the lobby, many of the patrons staring, she tried to protest. She was a grown woman. Her father couldn't do this to her.

“I'm...not wearing any clothes.” Blood bubbled from her lips from where she'd bitten her tongue, “I need clothes.”

“You want to act like a whore, you don't need them.” Though she knew he wasn't truly her father, the words still cut her to the quick, bringing tears to her eyes.

Chapter Twelve

The trip home was humiliating. She was forced to ride through the busy city of Nassau, naked, beside her father in the back of the limo before she was paraded inside, much to the shock of a multitude of travelers. It was only when airport security insisted she be clothed that she was finally provided with a loose shirt, some leggings, and some sandals, which she quickly donned.

Within the hour, they were aboard her father's private jet. No sooner had she been thrown into a seat than Thompson handcuffed her in place with a salacious grin. Riker joined them soon after, and the plane door was closed as they prepared for takeoff.

With some difficulty, Emerson Mathers seated himself in the plush seat before her and then fixed his beady gaze on her. For a moment, his eyes roamed over her. Then, he snorted in disgust and withdrew a handkerchief from his jacket pocket, extending it to her. “Clean yourself up.”

Charlotte could only gaze at him in disbelief.

When she didn't take the cloth after a full minute, he merely scowled, dropping it on the table between them. “Suit yourself.”

“You are sick, you know that.” The words escaped her with the full force of her emotions. Had she been free, she didn't doubt that she would have lunged for the man who had raised her—or hired people to raise her.

“I am not sick, Charlotte. I am efficient, and I believe you are the least efficient thing I have ever invested in.”

“Invested?” She shook her head, utterly confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Everything I have ever done, I have done for a purpose. Efficiency, profit, fame. When I asked a woman thirty years ago to find me a blonde-haired, blue-eyed charity case I could mold into my successor, she did well enough. If I had known you would grow to be this dim witted, however, I wouldn't have bothered.”

“But...my mother. Why did you have to lie about my mother? You said she died!”

“There was a woman who helped me to raise you in the beginning, in your infancy. We…got on well, you might say. You'd even taken to calling her mother.” Emerson's salacious expression hardened. “Sadly, she did pass away from complications of the AIDS virus.”

Charlotte could only gaze at the man in horror.

He was a murderer. He had driven David's father to suicide, infected God knows how many women with HIV, and one woman had died from it.

How had she ever desired this man's love?

“Oh, don't look so shocked. There have been far worse things done in the name of financial gain in the world. And look at you. You grew up with everything you ever wanted. Nannies, tennis lessons, cars—”

“And look where I am now.” Charlotte's voice had lowered to a growl, as she glared at him.

Emerson only sighed, shaking his head. “Well, this is quite unfortunate. I'd hoped that as Causewell's secretary you would keep your head down and finally stop trying to run my company into the ground.”

“You're siphoning millions in company funds directly into your own accounts. If anyone is going to run the company into the ground, it will be you!”

“It's my money!” Emerson's bark was so harsh that Charlotte jumped. “I made it. I built this company from the ground up.”

“And you buried Lester Marscomb to do it.” Charlotte’s voice was a low whisper of disgust. “How can you live with yourself?”

Instead of answering her question, the odious man simply changed the subject as the plane began taxing down the runway. “I'll hardly have to worry about living alone anymore, will I? You'll be moving into the manor in Long Island with me. You'll be locked in your room every day until David Marscomb's trial is long past and he's been put away for the foreseeable future. Try me girl, just try me.” He raised a finger in warning and said, “One wrong move, one attempt to escape, and I'll have the boy's mother thrown into the nastiest psych ward I can find.”

“You monster.”

“You bring it out in me, my dear. You and your boyfriend have caused me quite a lot of trouble lately.”

With that, Charlotte fell silent. She was utterly numb.

She said nothing on the flight back to New York and nothing as she was driven from the airport to Long Island and nothing as she was locked into a room obviously reserved for one of his father's whores. There were bars on every window, and the one in the bathroom was physically nailed shut.

It wasn't until at least twenty-four hours had passed that Charlotte finally overcame her shock over what had happened. When she did, she turned over on the bed and screamed all of her frustration, her desperation, and her helplessness into the pillow. He had her. Emerson had her, and this time, there was no way she could win.

Chapter Thirteen

Time passed in a blur. She was brought three meals a day, but she hardly cared what she ate. It all tasted like sand. Constantly, she wondered how Emerson could get away with locking her up. Hadn't someone noticed? The media was usually ardent in their pursuing of a juicy story. How hadn't they caught wind of her own father keeping her prisoner?

More often, she wondered what had happened to David. No doubt he and Leah had returned to the city and were preparing for the trial. The frightening reality of his situation was beginning to bear down on her.

To her recollection, Mathers Incorporated had never lost a trial. Once, she'd thought it was because luck was on their side and they had the moral high ground. Now, she realized that it probably had more to do with her father having all the prominent New York judges in his pocket.

It didn't matter how good of a lawyer Leah was—and Charlotte didn't doubt her skill—the trial would be rigged, and David would be put away for a large portion of his adult life. After all he'd fought for and all he'd done, he was going to jail anyhow. The thought made her bouts of nausea come more and more frequently, until she was hung over the toilet almost constantly.

One day, after she'd been in Long Island about a week, Addy came to see her.

When the woman was let into the room, only to have the door locked behind her. She immediately rushed to Charlotte's side, her face pale. “Oh, fucking Christ, Charlotte. What has he done to you?”

At her question, Charlotte could only laugh weakly. “What hasn't he done to me? The man's not even my real goddamn father, Addy.”

The woman's green eyes widened to take over her entire face. “What did you say?”

Wearily, Charlotte regaled the woman with the entire story of the past week, starting with the discovery of the origin of Mathers’ patents and finishing with Emerson's HIV status and her own parentage. Stunned, Addy could only sit on the edge of the bed, her hands covering her mouth.

“He's not your real father? Christ, Charlotte. I never knew how deep the lies went. Of all of our patents, only the few I developed are actual company property? All the material he funneled into the department for all those years…those were David's father's designs?”

Charlotte nodded forlornly.

“And what's this?” Addy reached out to touch the bruise on the young woman's jaw gently, making Charlotte flinch at the slight pain. She frowned.

“He hit me.”

“He fucking what?”

“Calm down, Addy, there's nothing you can do about it now.”

“Like hell I can't!” The woman stood from the bed, obviously in quite the rage. “I can call the cops on him. Men don't raise their hands to women, and damn how much money he has!”

“Money to put into the pocket of any cop that might come knocking, Addy. Just leave it be.” Burying her face in the pillows, she let hollowness fill her chest. How long was she going to be kept here? Three months? Six? It was impossible to know. Emerson told her nothing, and since the case had been taken over by her father, Addy had heard little of it either.

“Do you know where David is?”
“David? Why the hell would you want him to come? He started all of this.”

“No, Addy, don't you see? He showed me who Emerson Mathers really is. If David had never come, I would have remained ignorant.”

“Yeah, and now you're imprisoned in your father's house like a criminal.”

Unexpectedly, tears welled in the Charlotte's eyes. After all she'd gone through over the past few days and a visit from Addy was what was going to drive her to tears? It was horse shit.

“I love him, Addy.” Covering her face with her hands as she took a deep breath, she tried to compose herself. “You should have seen him in Nassau when those assholes took me. The look on his face…” She trailed off, fresh tears sluicing over her cheeks. “And now I'll probably never see him again.” She broke into soft sobs, each one wracking her body until she trembled with the force of it.

“Charlotte.” Addy's voice softened, but for once, there was little she could say to lift her friend's spirits. All she could do was embrace her, and somehow, as Addy held her, Charlotte felt only more desolate. She clung to Addy, sobbing her heart out as she imagined how acutely her father would cut David's legs from under him.

Emerson Mathers wasn't human.

After what seemed like hours, she finally quieted. She fell asleep in Addy's arms, and when she woke up, her friend was gone. The two men posted day and night outside her door must have come to get her. When she rolled over, rising from bed at the feel of another vomiting spell coming on, her side caught on something sharp in the sheets and she winced, reaching beneath herself.

She withdrew the tiniest piece of folded paper she'd ever seen. It was damp, as if it had recently been in someone's mouth. Carefully, Charlotte unfolded the small scrap, careful to be wary of the sight lines of the two cameras in the room. In tiny print, a message was written:

Can't talk at the manor. Being followed. Constantly watched. Will do what I can to find your dumb boyfriend and bust you out. Trial in one month. Hope he's ready.

Oh, Addy.

The woman must have smuggled the message in. Quickly, Charlotte popped it in her mouth and swallowed it, praying that no one had noticed.

Then, for the first time in what seemed like ages, she allowed herself the tiniest ray of hope. Adeline had promised her nothing, but when it came to getting something done, there were few people Charlotte trusted more. Seeing how she was rather short on contacts at the moment, she'd just have to trust in the redhead.

Somehow, if she was to get out of this mess, Addy was going to have to bring help.

Chapter Fourteen

He was at his wit's end.

The last time he had seen Charlotte was in Nassau, and that had been weeks ago.

David knew he was supposed to be concentrating on the case they were building against Emerson, but how could he? The man had stuck her in front of him! He'd taken her away to God knew where to do God knew what with her.

Though Marshall, in his rational way, assured him multiple times that the man wouldn't be systematically torturing his own daughter, David still knew that she was being kept against her will somewhere secret. According to his friend, she hadn't come in a single day to work in the firm, and she hadn't been seen publicly since before they'd left for the Bahamas. She'd simply disappeared.

She was also sick. He knew that much.

She'd been trying to hide it for weeks. She'd said it was stress, but she appeared weak and threw up often. He could hope that Emerson wouldn't be so cruel as to keep her from a doctor, letting her waste away; but, he knew better. The man could be exactly that cruel.

When Leah gave him a much needed reprieve from all the trial prep he'd been doing, he lay in his bed late at night, wondering how he'd let Emerson take her. The man had threatened to harm her and then done it, even when David had stopped fighting. It was like some cliché villain from an awful action movie.

He was capable of anything, no doubt. Plus, Charlotte was being held prisoner by him.

Desperately, he'd tried to reach Adeline, hoping that she could give him some news of Charlotte, but her number had been disconnected. He'd asked Leah and Marshall to case the Financial District, hoping for a glimpse of her—and still nothing.

Would the trial even matter, really?

Mathers had proven that he held all the cards. He probably had enough pull to pay off the judges and if that was the case, then nothing Leah did mattered. When they received the court summons and read the three page list of charges being filed against him, she had looked utterly forlorn. Even so, she stayed awake day and night, compiling all the material she could in an effort to help him.

It was harder for her to understand his obsession with Charlotte. She didn't flirt with him, now. She only grudgingly reassured him that his own ass was far more precious than that of Charlotte Mathers. Even if she was in a prison, Leah argued, it was bound to be plush and guilded in gold.

Marshall took him out often, and they imbibed enough to make him forget his troubles until the next morning—at which point the gravity of his situation seemed to double.

“Man, you have to stop doing this to yourself,” Marshall said one night at a bar they had begun to frequent. “I know she means a lot to you, but you have to understand this Emerson son of a bitch. He is a cruel motherfucker, but he's not a murderer. Charlotte will be fine.”

At that point, they were both decently sloshed, enough so that they could say nothing to offend one another. “No, you have to understand. I let them take her.”

“There was nothing you could do. He probably would just have beat her more.”

David winced at the prospect. What was keeping the man from hurting her now? Exactly nothing, that's what.

“David, let's be real. I'm more worried about you than her. Don't get me wrong, I understand she was practically kidnapped by her adoptive father, but that man is trying to make you spend twenty years in prison. You do know that in twenty years, you'll be fifty, don't you? And atop that, a convinced felon?”

“As efficiently ruined as my father. Yep, Marshall, I got the picture.”

Marshall cursed and said, “No. That's not what I meant to bring up and you know it, man.”

David only fell into sullen silence, nursing his eighth whiskey of the night. Why was he even letting Leah consider this charade with him? Why was Marshall, for that matter? The man couldn't think they possibly had a snowball's chance in hell of winning the case.

“Don't give me that look,” Marshall said from across the table, fixing him with a look he'd probably intended to be stern. However, as sloshed as he was, it fell somewhat short of the mark.

“What look?”

“You look defeated, David. Like it's all over. For as long as I've known you, and through all the shit you've been through, I've never seen that look on your face.”

“Well, here it is.” David replied glumly, his heart so heavy it almost felt as if it were bearing him to the floor. “What look would you like to see, Marshall? Slap happy is a bit of an effort for me right now.”

“Well, Leah—”

“This isn't about Leah,” David cut him off firmly, “Leah's an excellent lawyer, and if I was going against absolutely anyone but Emerson Mathers, I would certainly win the case.”

“But, you are facing Emerson Mathers.” As he finished his statement, Marshall suddenly seemed just as glum as his companion. “Shit, David.”

Shit indeed.

From the beginning, David had known he was playing a dangerous game. Still, he'd never imagined that he would have lost so thoroughly. At this point, he couldn't even recall the cocky attitude he'd carried into Adeline's office with him. Where had that man gone? Certainly, Charlotte had molded him, changed him.

And Mathers had crushed him.

Even Marshall, with his infinite wisdom, resources, and his lawyer-sister hadn't been able to help him. He was certain once he was sober, he'd be back to his old optimistic self; but, deep down, David knew the truth.

They were finished.

They'd been negligent and allowed Mathers to sneak right up on them.

There was nothing they could do now but watch and wait.

Chapter Fifteen

One night, David sat alone at his dining room table beneath the dim light that hung overhead. He remembered how enthusiastic he'd been about moving to this place. He'd been his mid-twenties and still optimistic about his mother's recovery. He'd been so sure that if they just moved away from the place where all their troubles had occurred, she'd get better.

But he'd been wrong.

Now she was about to lose her only son. Who would take care of her while he was incarcerated? Certainly not Mathers. He'd probably happily send her to a loony bin and throw away the key.

In an instant, every angry thought he'd had about his mother where Emerson was involved melted away. She would probably die while he was in prison, and it was his fault for being blinded by the prospect of revenge.

Laying his head against the table, he sighed heavily, praying for guidance. What could he do? He had to try something, anything, to save her.

“David?” Exhaling hotly, he let his eyes close in exasperation. It was past ten o’clock. Was Leah still here? “David.”

Raising his head, the man prepared to let caustic words fly, only to have them die on his tongue.

Before him stood his mother.

And she had spoken.

“Mom?” he said, his voice hoarse with disbelief. He could only stare at her. Her eyes had lost their vacant staring look, and she was gazing at him in a mixture of grief and regret.

“My David.” Miranda Marscomb's voice was raspy from lack of use, but still very clear. “What have I done to you?”

“Mom, no, no.” Immediately, he stood, reaching over to grab her hand and hold it tightly between his own. To his shock and embarrassment, he felt tears welling in his eyes. “It wasn't your fault. None of this was your fault.”

“I abandoned you when you needed me the most.” Her own blue eyes were shining with moisture. “I went away into my own world and left my boy to fend for himself. I lay with a man who ruined my family and robbed me of my husband.” Her voice hitched on a sob. “He threatened me, David. I met him once, before your father and I married. Then, the next time we were face-to- face, he demanded my body in exchange for our welfare. What was I to do?”

David swept her into his arms, his rage toward Mather's flaring anew. “Shhh, Mom. Shhh. You did all you could. Mathers is a lying, cheating bastard. He has money and that's all.”

“But he's going to take my boy from me. My little boy. Maybe he's had him all along.” Miranda clung to him tightly, as if afraid that he was going to disappear. “You're so strong, David. So strong. Just like your father.”

And just like his father, he was under Mathers' thumb.

“I'm going to take care of you, Mom,” he swore lowly, “Before the trial date, I'll see you safe, I swear it.”

“It's not me I'm worried about.” Miranda let her son wipe tears from her face, as she shook her head. “It's you. You and Charlotte.”

David immediately flushed scarlet. Certainly his mother, if she had been cognizant at all, had picked up the details of everything that had happened as she wandered aimlessly around the apartment. The fact that she had garnered the depth of his feelings for Charlotte was somewhat embarrassing.

“She's nothing like her father,” Miranda said, holding David's hands tightly. “I can see it in her eyes.”

“He has her somewhere, Mom. I haven't seen her since they took her in Nassau.”

Miranda only nodded. “You have to find her.”

“But how?” David's voice was pained. “The trial is in less than a week, and Mathers will hang me. I can't do a single thing from prison.”

Just then, a loud knock came on the door and the young man cursed. Who could it possibly be at this hour? If it were Leah or Marshall, they were going to get an earful. “Give me a sec, Mom.” Stalking over to the door, David yanked it open.

Before him stood Adeline Reynolds, soaked from the storm outside. Next to her was another redhead, a man who he didn't recognize.

“Jesus,” cursed Addy, “I've been trying to shake my tail for weeks just to find you. Are you going to let me in or not Marscomb?”

Though the woman had once been all for throwing him out of the company building, her voice was one of the most welcome sounds he'd ever heard. Without hesitation, he held open the door to let the duo inside. No sooner were they over the threshold than he began bombarding Adeline with questions. “Where's Charlotte? Is she alright?”

Adeline tossed off her raincoat, turning around to face him in the front entryway. With no warning whatsoever, she lashed out and slapped him across the cheek. The impact stung and left him shocked, but no real damage was done. “Before I tell you anything I want you to know that I hold you personally responsible for this mess. Do you understand me?”

David knew better than to question her now—not when she had the information he so desperately sought. He merely nodded frantically, waiting with bated breath.

“You owe me, Marscomb. If I have my way you'll work for free in the department on that five year contract, mark my words.”

Once she vented her pent up rage, Addy took a deep breath before starting again. “Emerson is holding her at his estate on Long Island. She's under twenty-four hour surveillance, and guards are posted at the entrance of her room. That damned house is a fortress. There’s no way we get her out without help from the inside.”

By this time, David's mother had appeared from around the corner, her expression inquiring. Adeline's expression immediately screwed up in suspicion. “Who's that?”

David rolled his eyes. “My mother.”

“Your basket case mother?”

He merely glared at her, and she had the decency to blush. “I'm sorry, it's just that Charlotte mentioned that she needed professional help. She seems fine to me.”

“Why, thank you, young lady,” said Miranda, nodding in her direction and making Adeline smile slightly before she got back to the matter at hand.

“There's only a week before the trial. If we could somehow get Charlotte out, I might be able to arrange for the two of you to be on the next plane out of the country. You'll have to go far and fast to escape Emerson's influence, but it could be done.”

“What about my mother?” David demanded, hardly daring to hope that they might have a shot.

“I'll take care of that.” Addy waved off his question impatiently. “The more pressing matter is how are we going to get someone into the manor? Emerson doesn't let anyone in without his personal say so.”

“What about a stockholder? I have a friend who has stock connections. Perhaps he could convince a Mather stockholder to work with us?”

“Too risky.” Addy shook her head. “Money could persuade him to switch sides, I think. We need someone we can trust. Someone Emerson trusts.”

“I could do it.”

They all looked to see the newcomer speaking for the first time. He had some sort of weird accent that David couldn't place. He stepped forward, and Addy glanced at him incredulously. “Samson? When Emerson finds you out, you know he's going to crush you. As easily as he made you, he could break you.”

“I'm sorry,” David interjected, a bit lost, “but who is this?”

Addy sighed in exasperation. “Don't you watch the news, lunkhead? This is Samson Causewell, current acting CEO of Mathers Incorporated.”

David immediately tensed. “Didn't Emerson put him in power?”

“He did,” Addy replied curtly, “but he was secretly taking direction from Charlotte until she went off on her little jaunt with you.”

David looked to the man in shock and Samson merely shrugged, coloring lightly. “I've run a few companies in my time but none in the manner that Emerson Mathers was asking me to. I came to the conclusion that there had to be a mistake. The organization ran much smoother when Miss Mathers was in power.”

Score one for Charlotte.

“So, you're really willing to double-cross Emerson like this?”

At the statement, Samson frowned, reaching down the front of his leather jacket to extract a dark, thin folder. When he held it out to Adeline, she merely stared at it for a moment.

David looked between them both.

“What? What is it?”

“Samson has executive access to a lot of files that I don't, including Charlotte's personal medical records. I asked him to check on her for me, to make sure they weren't doing anything…rash.”

The way Adeline eyed the folder spoke volumes about what she thought it contained; but, before David could snatch it, his mother unexpectedly plucked it from Samson's fingertips, opening it before he could protest. As the three of them looked on, her elderly eyes scanned the papers within, growing progressively wider and wider.

When she finally spoke, David thought his heart might burst with anticipation. “They're drugging her,” Miranda whispered, and Adeline gasped. “Twice a day. Sedatives in her food. Very powerful from the looks of it.”

Long ago, when their life had been different, Miranda Marscomb had worked as a nurse. She'd done a fair amount of volunteer work and been quite good when she put her mind to it. Now, she provided her knowledge to Adeline and Samson. “She's dehydrated,” she said, turning a page in disapproval. Then, all at once, she froze.

Adeline stared at her, her eyes huge. “What?”

Slowly, Miranda shut the folder, handing it back to Adeline as she looked up at her son. “David, you have to get her out of there as soon as you can. She's in a very dangerous situation.”

“No kidding, lady.” Adeline's voice was dry with sarcasm. “In case you haven't been following, Emerson Mathers is completely off his rocker.”

“No, I mean medically.” As Miranda continued, her face grew slightly paler. “You see, if they keep on slipping her the sedatives and don't increase her fluid intake, she could lose the baby.”

David's heart stopped.

No. No.

“The baby? What baby?” demanded Adeline.

Miranda winced. Then, she simply said, “Charlotte is pregnant.”

~~~

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