Page 47 of Ms. Fortune

Chapter 31

BOUND

BRANDON

I bring everyone back to my estate after the so-called “meeting” with Frank. That was less of a meeting and more of an information dump. There was no discussion, no exchange of ideas. We were just told what would happen, when, and where, and there is absolutely nothing we can do about it. That is not a fucking meeting.

Normandy is still trying to be brave but is failing miserably. The entire ride to my estate, she gripped my hand so tightly I lost feeling in my fingers. I didn’t pull away, though. I can’t imagine what she’s going through right now. She’s the one taking the brunt of this. She’s the one risking everything. I just need to show up and pay the money to set her free. I have the easy part.

When I think about the risks, I can’t help but think of everything that could possibly go wrong because that is what happens; things go wrong. And when they do, it’s not usually on a small scale. No, it’s typically catastrophic. The idea of Normandy hurt, or worse, hasn’t left my imagination since this came up, and I don’t see myself having a moment of peace until this is over. If something were to happen, I couldn’t live with myself.

Sophie has prepared the house for all of us and has dinner ready when we show up. “It’s so good to see you again, Normandy.” Sophie pulls her into one of her big hugs, leaving her flustered. It would be cute if storm clouds weren’t hanging over our heads. “And you must be Chelsie. How nice to meet you.” She shakes her hand warmly. “I’ve set up a buffet-style spread for you in the kitchen, so it’s a bit informal since it’s last minute. I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s perfect.” Normandy is gracious as always, and I can’t help but feel a pang of pride. “Thank you for going to all the trouble.”

“I tried to call Brandon to confirm the number of guests and any dietary restrictions, but I couldn’t get through to him, so I had to guess what everyone would like.” She gives me a fake glare but winks.

I’d warned everyone not to talk about the upcoming events in front of Sophie, making things incredibly awkward once greetings are finished. It’s evident to everyone in the house that something tense is going on, but nothing is being said about it, and we’re all looking at each other sideways to make sure we’re not giving anything away. It’s worse than if we just talked about it in front of her.

Eventually, Sophie disappears somewhere as she always does and leaves us to our own devices. Taylor vanishes, too, leaving me with the sisters.

“Why couldn’t she reach you?” Chelsie asks as though I should be reachable all the time or something.

“My phone has been off since we left New York and during our meeting, and I haven’t turned it back on yet.” I shrug. Someone could have reached me through Taylor if something important needed my attention.

“Won’t world markets crumble or something?” Her tone is chiding, and I’m reminded of when we all first met in person at their father’s funeral, where I said something similar. It makes me laugh, which I haven’t done at all yet today. It feels good.

“Fair enough,” I say, pulling out my phone and switching it on. I’m surprised at all the voicemails and text message alerts that pop up as soon as it comes to life. Whoa. What the hell?

I skim the texts from various members of my legal team, and if I’m reading them correctly, things have found a way to get worse. I go to my voicemails and listen to the first one from my personal attorney.

ABBEY: Hi Brandon, this is Abbey Killian. We have ourselves a bit of a situation. We’ve just been served a subpoena on your behalf to appear here in New York before a Special Grand Jury the day after tomorrow. Special Grand Jury usually means organized crime. Because these things are so secretive, there is no caption, but we think this somehow relates to Eve Cromwell. We’ve heard rumblings that they might be going after her for something more than the SEC thing. Call me as soon as you get this.

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

I rush out of the kitchen, dialing Abbey as I go. I need to get away from Normandy. If she hears this right now, she will freak out. And rightfully so. Shit, I’m freaking out. There has got to be a way to get out of this.

“Brandon, you’re alive. I take it you got one of my many voicemails.”

“What the fuck is going on?” How can she be so calm about this? “We’ve got to find a way to make this go away. I cannot be in New York in two days. It’s impossible.”

“Okay, first, take it down a notch, please.” She draws in a deep breath. “Second, there is no getting out of a Special Grand Jury summons. If there were, I would have done it so we could figure out what this is all about and prepare for it.”

“Fuck.” This came out of nowhere. I know I should apologize to Abbey, but I’m having a hard time thinking straight.

“We’re pretty sure this is about your personal relationship and dealings with Eve because they haven’t asked to see any documents. It’s testimony only.”

“Well, how long is testimony like that going to take? I need to be back here in Nevada the same day. That’s non-negotiable.”

“Brandon. There’s no negotiating here. Like I told you, you need to comply with the subpoena. If you don’t, you will be arrested for contempt of court. It’s not a maybe.”

“God damn it.”

“Is there anything we should know about your personal dealings with Eve?” She sounds suspicious, which annoys me even more. “This came out of left field for us.”

“What? No. Of course not. I gave you the run down of everything between us when the SEC indicted her. That’s all there is. I have no fucking idea what else they can possibly want.”

“And what about any organized crime?”

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