It was true. Royce favored his father, but they weren’t spitting images. Macalister was taller and narrower, with darker hair and lighter eyes. Even the way they carried themselves was different. Macalister moved with calculated efficiency, whereas Royce had ease and swagger.
“I’d been drugged,” I said.
The question came from Royce in a tight voice. “What’s he talking about?”
Arrogance washed through his father’s expression. “I find it interesting that, as you lay there, believing you were dying, you chose not to say that. Time was of the essence, and you used it to tell me you loved me.”
I nearly came up off the bed, hissing it at him. “Because I was hallucinating, and I thought you were him.”
His lips widened into an evil grin. Macalister didn’t believe me. For as smart as he could be, deep down he was still human, and he’d twisted the situation until it fit the narrative he desperately desired.
And worse, I’d allowed him to play me. We were negotiating, and now I was on the defensive. My focus swiveled from my opponent to the boy who’d ceased moving. Did he believe me, or had he allowed his father to plant a seed of doubt in his mind? Even now, Macalister was trying to disrupt us.
“I’m in love with Royce,” I declared loudly so both men would hear. “My loyalty is to him. If you want me to lie to save both you and your wife, then you’ll agree to my terms.”
It took him forever to say anything. Finally, “If I were to—”
“Ascension,” I said abruptly.
Both men looked like I’d just driven over them with my Porsche.
Macalister’s suspicious gaze angled toward his son. “What about it?”
Was I leaving money on the table? For years, Royce had quietly accrued stock in the competing bank for what I assumed was a plan to take control. And once he’d taken over Ascension, he would use it to go after HBHC.
But Macalister had somehow learned of Royce’s plan and was making his own move to acquire the competitor. A defensive play to shut down everything Royce had spent years setting up.
“Agree that HBHC won’t buy it,” I said.
The shock on Royce’s face drained away and he went . . . blank. His expression was too guarded for me to be able to read anything in it. I didn’t understand at all. Was he worried if he showed an emotion, he’d give too much away to his father? I had the strange feeling he was unhappy about what I’d said, but it was likely he was overcompensating. Surely, he wanted this. It had been his goal.
Right?
Honestly, I didn’t know. He’d never let me in, never answered my questions. Even if he hadn’t danced around them and given me an answer, I wasn’t sure what to trust. For years, he’d spun lies, and the truth had only become murkier as I fell under his spell.
Macalister was far easier to understand. His jaw set and his eyes narrowed. My demand had truly offended him. “That is not up for negotiation. Let me make one thing crystal clear, Marist. I will not have business decisions dictated to me by you, or anyone else. Is that understood?”
“The board already voted in favor of it, Marist.” Royce’s voice was odd and distant.
“Overwhelmingly, I might add.” Macalister lifted his chin, exaggerating the way he looked down on me. “Royce was the only dissenting vote.”
I squeezed my fiancé’s hand, wishing I could understand. Did he want me to try to fight for this, or was he subtly telling me it was already too late? I stared into his blue eyes, desperate for answers, but found none.
From across the room, a soft knock rang out on the suite door.
“We’re out of time,” Macalister said quickly. “I agree to your initial terms. Do we have a deal?”
I sucked in a breath and swallowed it. “Yes.”
We didn’t shake hands. He simply stood across the room and gave half of a nod, confirming the deal was closed. He didn’t seem thrilled, but the pleased look that crossed his face made my stomach bottom out. I was tired and vulnerable, and in my weakened state, I’d made a mistake.
I should have bargained for more.
The door swung open, but it wasn’t medical staff that came in—it was my parents. With all that had changed between us, it was shocking how it all was inconsequential now. My heart ached at the sight of them, and I bit down on my bottom lip to stop its trembling.
“Oh, Marist,” my mom gasped as she flew toward me, her arms outstretched. Royce stepped back to make space, and I welcomed her hug greedily. She was soft, and warm, and my mom. As hard as it was to accept how fixated she was on money and status, I knew deep down she loved me more. My father, my sister, and I were more important than anything else.
My father stood beside her, his hand on her shoulder and concern on his face while she continued to squeeze me tightly.
“What happened?” She smoothed a hand over the back of my head in comforting, repeating strokes.
It was unfair that the first time I’d have to tell the lie, it would be to the people I most didn’t want to.
“Uh . . .” I started.
And then suddenly Royce was there, doing what he’d been spent his lifetime perfecting . . .
He lied.
He explained how one of the staff members had turned me on to a homemade tea with leaves grown in the herb garden. Only last night, I’d misidentified the plant—easy to do, he added. They grew right beside each other. The lie rolled out of him with such ease, I nearly believed him.
My parents bought it completely.
“How awful. Thank God you’re all right.” My mother had grabbed my hand and refused to let go. “I’m sorry we weren’t here sooner. I still had my phone on silent from the gala, and your father’s was charging downstairs.” She used her other hand to latch onto Royce’s arm. “Thank you for sending your brother to get us.”
From my bed, I peered up at him. “You sent Vance to my parents’ house?”
To anyone else, his smile would seem warm, but I saw through to the unease masked beneath. “No one could get hold of them, and . . . I thought they should be here.”
It was a slug to my heart. He’d been worried I was going to die before my parents even knew I’d gone to the hospital.
Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them away before whispering, “Thank you.”
And I’d thank Vance the first chance I got.
“From now on,” my father said, “you only drink tea that comes from the store.”
“Agreed,” said the man lingering by the window.
At Macalister’s deep voice, my mother froze. He’d been off to the side, and she’d been distracted by the sight of me and Royce when she’d come into the room, so she’d failed to notice him. Like an outsider, he was the only one not gathered at my bedside.
Panic swamped her face as she looked down and realized what she was wearing. After Vance had woken them up, my parents had obviously thrown on whatever clothes were fastest and then raced to Boston. For my mother, it had been yoga pants and an Etonsons University sweatshirt. No makeup. Her hair was down and flattened from a half-night’s sleep.
She’d never been so unkempt in front of my father’s boss and the king of Cape Hill before, and he held even more power over us now.