Page 10 of Collateral Damage
“Aren’t you pleased by this union, Amelia?” Conrad repeats, and instead of my mother having to pry the mic from his hands, he passes it to her as if she is next in line to make a speech. She already gave one an hour ago.
“Very pleased,” she quips and turns to the guests. “Thank you all for coming. We’re blessed to have so many wonderful friends and family who are happy to share in our joy. Now please, enjoy yourselves.”
She hands the mic to the band behind her, and the singer takes over, but it’s too late. The party is ruined. Oh, not for everyone. The guests are definitely going to enjoy themselves; this is the kind of gossip New York City’s elite lives for. No, the party is ruined for those of us who want to know what the hell is going on. One glimpse of Arden’s horrified face and Ethan’s angry grimace, and I know I’ve failed them.
I turn on Cooper. “You knew he was going to say that?”
“Yes,” he says, wearing a mask of indifference.
“And you didn’t think to warn us?”
“If I’d have told you, I wouldn’t have had the satisfaction of seeing your face right now.”
He’s. Fucking. Gloating.
My rage comes quick, like a flash of gasoline to a flame, and I slap him clean across the face. He steps back, his hand traveling to the spot I made contact. My own hand rings with pain and betrayal, but I don’t regret hitting him. Not even if it added more gossip for our guests to spread.
“Who are you?” I hiss, glaring into Cooper’s dark eyes.
“I’m exactly who you made me to be.” He turns and walks away, his gait slightly changed from before the accident. But his back is straight, and his head is high, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. As if he already won. Maybe he did, even if I’m still not sure what I lost.
Five
Sybil
Present - Age 27
It only takes a few minutes for everyone in the Laurence family to gather in the chef’s kitchen that’s adjacent to the ballroom. Mom cleared the staff out for a family meeting, and apparently, this was the only place to do it.
“What’shedoing here?” Hayes growls in Ethan’s direction, and Arden straightens her spine protectively.
“I swear I didn’t know about any of this,” Ethan says, holding up his hands, and I know him well enough to know he’s being honest.
“Your twin knew,” I announce, and his face pales.
My jaw is locked so tight I feel my teeth might crack. Where the hell is Coop? Probably mingling among the guests somewhere, smug as hell, despite his father ruining what was a perfectly respectable wedding reception.
Arden turns on my mother. “Aunt Amelia, please explain what this marriage contract means?”
“It’snothing, I promise,” Mom replies, her voice strained. “Yes, therewasa contract made, but it doesn’t apply to nieces—only to Gregory’s biological children and Conrad’s biological children. There’s nothing to worry about since Ethan didn’t marry Sybil.”
Ethan and I exchange a sheepish glance. Guess wereallydodged a bullet there.
“But the stock prices…” Mother’s voice trails off. “That could be a problem once this news gets out. Shareholders don’t like scandal.”
Our company is publicly traded, and King is not, which basically means we’re beholden to our shareholders and—especially—our board. But King? Barring legalities, they can pretty much do whatever the hell they want. Conrad has a company board at King, but they don’t own him, he owns them. He’s the primary company owner, creator, and the CEO. He steers the ship, and nobody complains because he’s damn good at his job.
And ruthless as hell.
“Why would Conrad say all that in front of everybody?” Arden’s voice is meek, but the rest of us know Conrad King better than my cousin ever did. None of this surprises me in the slightest. He hates our family, and if saying stupid bullshit to get a rise out of us, he’s going to say stupid bullshit, even at the expense of his son.
“This night was supposed to be about you and Ethan,” I reply, giving Arden my most apologetic look. “I’m so sorry that happened.”
Everything was going so well, too.
“I should’ve known something like this was going to happen,” Ethan growls. “Don’t blame yourself, Sybil. You did a good job.”
Did I?“I should’ve planned for this somehow. Obviously, the microphone was a bad call. I could’ve had someone running interference.”
