Page 121 of The Wrong Sister
“Watch when you speak of her.” Even though I want to rage about her betrayal, it’s between her and me. He has bullied me enough, and I will not let him bully her.
His annoying cackle radiates from the walls of my office.“Make sure she won’t embarrass us. She’s a King now.”
Ignoring the expected jabs, I focus on the reason why he’s calling. “Why do you really want me there?”
His voice loses its humor.“To show everyone that I made the right decision by bringing the board in.”
Here it comes, the real father I’ve known my whole life.
“You still don’t think we’re capable of doing it ourselves?” I ask, meaning Noah and myself. If we hadn’t been fighting his fucking board half the time, the company would havebeen much further than it is now. Well, than it was before the fire.
“Do you still think you are?”He laughs.“The gala is at eight. Be there. Make your gate puppy call my assistant for details.”He hangs up after that, thank fuck.
Martin’s face pokes through the slightly open door. “Your gate puppy,” he presses his index finger into his chest, “can make his life a living hell. I’ve got some dirty laundry I can air on your command, Boss.”
“As appealing as that sounds, the laundry belongs to my family. Let’s keep it locked.” I wipe my face with my hand. “Fucking hell, it just keeps getting worse.”
Martin edges inside, leaning his shoulder on the doorframe. “What’s so bad about going to a gala with that beautiful wife of yours on your arm? I thought you’d be happy if she went to a grocery store with you. Plus, she knows how to have fun.” His eyes move up and down over me. “God knows you could do with some of it.”
“My wife?” I smack my hand on the desk, making Martin raise his brows. “My wife turned out to be a deceiving little thing who has a little too much fun.”
He blinks fast, pushing away from the support of the wall. “Is that doubt I’m sensing?”
I level him with a stare. “I don’t pay you to be my therapist.”
“Yeah, you actually do.” He takes a seat across from me, completely ignoring my stare.
“No, I don’t,” I growl back, annoyed that even my own damn assistant is defying me today.
“What happened? I’ve seen how giddy Maeve looks when she comes here. She’s watching your mouth when you speak for fuck’s sake. That woman is head over heels. Or the way you watch her in your kitchen. I swear I can see little cartoon hearts around your head when you do. And your placeturning into a chaotic bazaar?” He makes a gesture with his hand, showing a chef’s kiss. “What’s come over you?”
I’m watching Martin’s face and wondering if I should ask for his help with this because he knows pretty much everything about everything in this company. During these four years he’s been working for me, he’s proven his loyalty. He knows about the company. About my forced marriage plan with a dowry of shares. About my mutual hatred with my father. He’s seen Maeve in the intimacy of my home. So why can’t I bring myself to tell him about what I’ve found out about her?
“Mr. King?” he reminds me he’s still in the room. When I don’t respond, he adds quieter, “Ezra?”
I press the heels of my palms into my eyes and groan. “It’s nothing. I need to be sure before I talk.”
“O-kay. Just so you know though,” he says, standing up, “I think your somewhat ‘forced marriage,’” he makes quote marks in the air, “turned into a very willing one. At least on her end.”
He leaves me with a pounding headache and racing thoughts. I’m trying to figure out if I gaslighted myself when I heard her talking on the phone? Or am I gaslighting myself while I’m trying to come up with excuses about why she’d need to rent an apartment for a guy named Jeff? Or why she’d need to visit him so often.
I call Noah to discuss if he found out anything from his reporter from Maine. She helped him the last time for a personal issue, and I hoped she might be able to find some dirt on one of the board members. At this point, I’m willing to work from any possible angle. Even if the opening is slim.
“Leila’s looking into that. She said she doesn’t like digging old graves with this sort of shit, but she’s doing it for me for the last time.”
“Why is she doing that?”
He’s reluctant to answer, which means it has something to do with that old story. He hates being reminded about that.
“Because of her husband, I suppose.”
“The dude you hijacked the helicopter for?”
He chuckles.“I didn’t exactly hijack it.”
“Except you did,” I say back.
“But it was worth it though.”He doesn’t sound remorseful. And he shouldn’t.
