Page 55 of Power Games

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

Matt left through the service door on the left, leading to the annex where Theodore housed the staff. It was as large as the main house, but instead of five ridiculously large bedrooms, a ballroom, drawing room, music room, and all that nonsense, it was a series of small, independent apartments. The functionality of the place couldn't be questioned, but there was no denying that it was more of a state apartment than a home. Vanessa already longed for her condo.

"I like that man," Theodore said once the bodyguard had left. "Fierce. Loyal."

"Stop making him sound like a German Shepherd, Dad."

Theodore's shrugged unapologetically. "If the shoe fits. Now let's talk business, shall we? I've taken the liberty of setting up the library with a desk so that you may use it as a study. I've invited young Henry for an interview, as you'll need a personal assistant, at least temporarily."

"Who?" she asked, frowning.

She could have told her father to back off, that she could take care of her business herself. But the truth of the matter was, she could use a personal assistant, and she hadn't even thought of it until he'd mentioned it.

"Henry. The Greenwood boy. You've met him. He works at McNamara and Co; your brother doesn't like him much. Too...."

Ah, she remembered now.

"Metrosexual?" Vanessa offered.

Theodore grimaced. "Yes, that. I seem to recall you got along."

If he'd chosen just about anyone else, she would have to wonder if he was planting spies in her nest to keep tabs on her, but Henry Greenwood, an attractive, outspoken, confident guy who couldn't stand Tristan, wasn't the type. His parents had been a housekeeper and a gardener at her grandmother's place, so they'd met in the past, but Henry wasn't in her family's pocket.

"We did. Thank you, Dad."

She didn’t have to ask why he was being nice.

Theodore smiled, showing her to the library. "I said I'd help."

As Charles had been taken away in the back of the police car, she'd gone to her father, and they exchanged words; dangerous words that neither of them would ever repeat.

Words some people might kill for.

Charles had asked her if she'd murdered Isabella on Saturday night, and she could in all honesty tell him that she hadn't. But she'd dreaded the next question. Keeping her countenance calm had taken all her strength.

He could have asked if she had any idea who'd done it, and she would have had to lie to him for the first time in their acquaintance.

Vanessa didn't doubt for one second that whoever had been holding the knife and the gun had acted under the order of the man she called ‘Father.’

She could dig. She could look into it and attempt to find proof. But while turning her back on her family's firm then supporting another man was water off Theodore's back, trying to get him arrested for murder would have been treason. The kind of treason he didn't forgive.

She'd seen what the man did to people who betrayed him. One only had to look at Isabella Grant to know how these things ended.

21

Monsters

Seventeen years ago

It had beentwo years since they'd moved to the White House and Vanessa loved it, if only because there were so many places where she could hide. Walls and passageways not even her father knew about. She'd had to conquer her aversion to spiders, but now that she had, the whole house was hers to explore. She could even sneak into super-secret meetings. Not that she did; they bored her to death.

Vanessa had found a new doorway this very morning, and she was crawling along the walls, wondering where it led, when the sound of voices made her stop and tilt her head.

One of the voices, she had no issue recognizing: her father's. But it sounded wrong. Cruel.

The other man was begging.

"Please, I swear I never meant to give the information away. They stole it from me!"

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