Even Sal, now lying still on the floor of the van, bloody hand on his cheek, had heard the same tacit admittance I had. One of my life’s largest annoyances he might have been, but Sal wasn’t a complete idiot. A man in his position knew the price blackmail material like that could command and how far Ewan would go to keep his patricidal secret. I might have just signed the man’s death warrant.
“Ian ranted and raved about how our father had killed his parents,” I said, again only expecting unconscious confirmation. “It’d be kind of ironic if you ended up giving him revenge for that while at the same time losing what you killed your father to gain to him.”
My brother snarled and balled his fist. I shuffled away from him, closer to the front of the van. Hunched down and fighting the sway of the moving vehicle, any punch he threw would be weak. Of course, I was in the same position and wearing heels. If he started swinging, I’d have a hell of a time dodging.
“I’m not going to let him take over!” Ewan yelled and the red splotches on his cheeks turned downright purple. “I was Father’s heir. He did such a good job molding me for the job. I’m not going to give it up.”
“And your plan is to kidnap me?” Fighting a giggle, I shook my head. “Ian Hunter is as cold as you are. Do you really think he cares about me? If you think he’d trade his revenge, all he’s gained just to get me back, you’re going to be disappointed.”
My ears rang, a rapid pulse beat below them. My breaths came quick and shallow. I fought the panic. It was life or death, nothing wrong with being scared. Speaking those words out loud had me almost believing my own lies.
“And what if we just kill you?” Ewan asked, just over the hum of the engine.
Sal earned a point. He’d shuffled to the wheel well of the van and leaned against it. His visible eye widened. He’d told Mom it was business. Ewan must have offered him a deal of some sort, might have even requested they not kill me. Still, he didn’t speak up.
“It is already done,” I replied, hands out. “He’s back in that lawyer’s office talking to his troops right now, winning them over. I turn up dead, they’re going to rally around the widower in his quest for vengeance.”
When the van had pulled away, Bashir had reached my mom. They’d have gone back to Ian. He had to already know I’d been kidnapped. He might even have a car tailing us now. I wasn’t about to look.
Would he come? As much as I didn’t want to believe my words, the logic was sound. He had what he wanted: the power, the revenge. My death at the hand of my brother, his rival only strengthened his position. Then there was the money he owed me and my inheritance. I had no will; anything I had would go to my loving husband.
The ringing in my ears became deafening. My eyes squeezed shut. I tried to slow my breathing. I was on the verge of a panic attack. I’d have my answer, soon enough.
“You need me on your side,” I said once I’d scraped back enough control. “The only way you get to be the boss is if I told the truth about my forced marriage to that brute.”
“You’d do that?” Ewan asked, holding a dropped jaw smile.
Confirmation bias for the win. Like a sasquatch hunter who thinks every cracked branch in the forest is Big Foot, my brother would bet on any opportunity to get the only thing he wanted.
“For the proper compensation,” I replied.
“Now, you’re speaking my language.” He smiled but it faltered, his eyes narrowed. “How can I trust you? I mean, after everything…”
He trailed off. I hadn’t expected he would trust me. Were I in his position, I’d demand some sort of proof. Luckily for me, I had the perfect way to win his trust.
“I can lead you to his base of operations,” I said. “It’s a manor house up north, not too far. He’s got a safe there. I bet there are a lot of interesting things inside.”
“I’m listening,” Ewan said, falling victim to confirmation bias for a third time.
Less than a half hour later, the van pulled up to Ian’s manor. The semi-trailer was the only other vehicle in the overgrown parking area, unsurprisingly. The driver pulled around and stopped in front of the dilapidated manor.
“This is his base of operations?” my brother scoffed, staring up at the crumbling tower. “I’m surprised it’s still standing.”
“The building over there looks a lot more used,” added the cousin, his voice nasal thanks to the tissues stuffed up his nose to stop the bleeding.
Ewan pulled the sliding door open and hopped out. He pointed to Sal and my cousin and motioned outside. His attention turned to the driver.
“Keep her here until we check out the other building,” he said, then glared at me. “If you are lying about the safe, I’ll know I can’t trust you, won’t need you.”
Sal sneered at me when he followed my cousin out of the van. He’d raided the van’s first-aid kit for a bandage but my ring had painted a bloody picture on his cheek. Red soaked through the bandage, dark stains covered his hands.
Ewan slammed the door shut and the three of them walked unhurried toward the servants’ quarters, the honeymoon shack I’d shared with my husband this last week. Their presence here tainted it and I only had myself to blame. And I’d already started the recriminations before I’d even learned if my husband would come running.
“Were you telling the truth?” the sour driver asked, eyes on me in the rearview mirror. “Did he really kill his father?”
“That’s what Ia— Hunter said,” I replied. “Think about it. Who had the most to gain? At least before a member of the Hunter family rose from the dead.”
The man’s expression turned even sourer. His eyes fell from the mirror and gazed at my brother as he threw himself against the door to the servants’ quarter. Sal and my cousin watched from either side.
