“How do I know it isn’t you?” Her blue eyes drilled into him.
His heart racing a million miles a minute, he held her gaze. Was she accusing him? “Why would I do that? That would put Hope at risk.”
She studied him for a long—long—moment. “I’m sure you would, for the right reason.” Portia tapped her finger against her lip. “But I don’t think you’d risk your sister.”
Maybe he was imagining things, but Ash thought he heard a question in her voice. Was she thinking about her own sister? Scuttlebutt was Portia had tried to take her out more than once after the bombing. That was cold.
“If it wasn’t you, who was it?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
“You’re not helping your case.”
Ash tamped down his frustration. Taking it out on Portia was a bad idea. “Have I told anyone about the project? No.” No reason for her to know he’d told Taryn. “Could I have made a mistake? Sure, but it’s unlikely. I’ve been digging through Leopold’s files. I’ve covered my tracks as much as possible.” There wasn’t much else he could do, aside from turning himself in, which wasn’t going to happen.
Portia spun her chair around to face the windows. Rain streaked the glass, obscuring the usually clear view of the city below.
Ash automatically looked in the direction of Razor Jack’s. Not that he could see it from here, even on a clear day. It was obscured by a number of buildings. But he knew where it was—where Taryn was—almost instinctively. What the hell did that mean?
“I don’t know how my father juggled all this.”
Ash held his breath. He had no idea what to say. Portia had never struck him as the sharing type, yet here she was, talking like they were friends.
Silence was the best—the only—response.
“I wanted all this, you know. The business. The position. I know everyone believes I got this position because of my name, but I busted my ass to get here. To get noticed by my father, to be named a worthy successor. And for what? To be named CEO because he disappeared, leaving a giant fucking mess to deal with. What a joke.”
Holy shit.That was... that was the most human reaction he’d ever seen from her.
“That sucks.” The words slipped out. It was something he’d say to a friend, but making friends had never been his strong suit.
Portia swung back around and stared at him.
He held her gaze, waiting for the inevitable threats.
Instead, she burst out laughing.
Of all the things he’d expected, that wasn’t on the list.
“You’re the first person who’s dared to be honest with me. Yes, it sucks. A lot. A year ago I dreamed about running my family’s company with my husband by my side. But one terrible night and I’m stuck in this nightmare of questionable loyalty, bitter memories, and never-ending grief.”
It was hard to swallow past the lump in Ash’s throat. His regrets about his role in her nightmare was a living, breathing weight. He opened his mouth to apologize, but he couldn’t. Not yet.
Portia had noticed, though, and was waiting for him to speak. So he did.
“Have you talked to anyone about your feelings?” God, that was fucking laughable coming from him.
“Like my former best friend? The one who decided to fall in love with the half-sister I never knew about? Or maybe her?”
He nodded carefully. That was a... complicated situation.
She dropped her head onto the back of her chair. “Irony of ironies, they’re the only ones I really do trust. How messed up is that?”
“Pretty messed up.”
“Killian would bend over backward to help me. I think. Unless it involved that damn courier. He’s already shown he’ll choose her over me.” Was that jealousy or anger in her voice?
She sighed and picked up the picture of her husband that sat on her desk. “Dizzie? I don’t know. Don’t care to. I’ll never be able to look at her without remembering what she cost me. How Killian fell in love with her, I’ll never understand.”
