The back of Alexander’s neck was slick with sweat. “I’ll get to it right away,” he said. “Just here to get something in back.” He shot past Benjamin and Tio Angelo and hung in the shadows, waiting for his father and uncle to finish their talk. When they did, Benjamin sped off somewhere else, leaving Tio Angelo with the horses.
Alexander knew it was his time to strike.
He slunk to the front of the stables and stood directly next to his uncle. His fingers shook with fear. Tio Angelo could sense him, but it was clear he had no interest in turning his head to look at him. Instead, his eyes went to the fenced-in area where the horses grazed, and he said, “Look at your beautiful kingdom, Alexander Whitmore. Isn’t it funny that you hate it so much? Most men would be grateful.”
Alexander stiffened. He always had the sense that his uncle was trying to manipulate him. Finally, he took a breath and said, “I know you’re up to no good in the tunnels.”
Tio Angelo’s smile was crooked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’ve gotten Jack involved in something awful. Something illegal,” Alexander said. “The minute I get proof, I’ll go to my father and get you out of here.”
Tio Angelo’s smile was downright sweet, as though they were playing a game. He took a small step sideways and wrapped his arm around Alexander’s shoulders. It was then that Alexander realized that his mother was watching them from the White OakLodge’s veranda, smoking and smiling at what she thought was a beautiful scene between her brother and eldest son.
“Your mother likes our little performance, doesn’t she?” Tio Angelo said with a sigh. “Francesca always liked pretty things. She’s never liked it when things got difficult or dark.”
Alexander furrowed his brow.
“But you know what?” Tio Angelo asked. “I know secrets about this family that would make your toes curl. I know secrets about your mother and father that would ruin them both.”
Alexander turned his head and gaped at his uncle. His nostrils filled with the overwhelming chemicals of his cologne.Who is this man?he thought.
Tio Angelo squeezed his shoulder. “That’s right,” he said. “If you come after me, I’ll come after everything you love in the world. And I’ll make it look like it was all your fault. You won’t be able to live with yourself. Remember that.”
Chapter Seven
July 2025
California
It had been more than a week since Janie Whitmore checked her three children into the hotel in Venice Beach. She’d opted for Venice Beach because it felt like another planet, yet it was still in the greater Los Angeles area with a long stretch of beach. Eager for comfort, she’d sprung for a four-bedroom suite so they each had their own bedroom, plus a living room with a television and a balcony that overlooked the ocean. But because it was still so much smaller than their place in Malibu, it sometimes felt as though the four of them were living on top of one another and perpetually in one another’s business. Plus, she was constantly worried that one of the kids might head to Malibu and accidentally run into their father, ruining their whole “running away” plan. She tried to instill in them that their father wasn’t available right now and that they had to live the next couple of weeks at the hotel without him. But she could tell they wereconfused and anxious. Surely, they’d read all about what their father was accused of online.
She couldn’t take away their phones and computers, no matter how much she wanted to. At their age, they’d grown up with that stuff, so much so that it probably felt like an extension of their bodies.
Perhaps because they wanted to protect their mothers’ feelings, they didn’t ask Janie about what they’d heard about their father. This made Janie feel slightly pathetic. Her children were fourteen, fifteen, and seventeen, and already far too conscious of their mother’s feelings. She still remembered so completely when she’d been responsible for their menus and their bathing and sleeping schedules. She hadn’t guessed that the tables would turn so swiftly.
It was nearing the beginning of August, though, which meant that the kids were already discussing their first day of school. It was to be Xander’s senior year, Gwen’s sophomore year, and Conor’s freshman year. All three of her babies would be in high school together. How was that possible? It brought to mind how often she’d felt pregnant back then. One baby after another, or so it had seemed. When she’d given birth to Conor, she’d told Alexander, “No more! I’m done!” But she’d mourned the fact that she wouldn’t be pregnant again. It was an intimacy she’d adored.
Alexander had kissed her forehead. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Our family is complete.”
It pained her to remember how sweet Alexander had been with her back then: cooking all her favorite foods, cleaning the house, and taking weeks off his pilot schedule to make sure she felt all right. It pained her even more to remember that that version of Alexander had probably been carrying secrets about the White Oak Lodge—secrets he hadn’t been willing to share with her, yet were destroying the family they’d built out West. Ithad taken ages for those secrets to catch up to them, but now, here they were.
What about all the promises they’d made? Didn’t they matter?
That afternoon, Xander and Conor planned to go surfing. Gwen and Janie changed into their swimsuits and sundresses and walked over to watch them, sitting on towels and drinking sparkling water. Janie eyed her daughter from the side, trying to fathom what it meant to be fifteen and long and slender and beautiful. She had her entire life ahead of her. Had she had her first kiss yet? Did Janie irritate her as much as Janie’s own mother had irritated her when she’d been fifteen?
Suddenly, Gwen flinched and got to her feet. “I want to go surfing, too,” she announced, surprising Janie. Gwen had never seemed interested in surfing, and Janie was nervous that Gwen would fall repeatedly and be disappointed in herself. But Janie handed over a stack of cash and said, “Go get ’em, girl,” and watched as Gwen hurried off to rent a board. Soon, Xander carried his board out of the water to help Gwen get situated. He stretched his arm out, pointing at a wave coming closer, closer, as he explained what to look for in a wave and when to know which one to take. Conor remained in the water, his legs on either side of his board as he rode the supple waves after they died, still waiting for the perfect one.
The sunlight was a gorgeous orange across the waves. Janie adjusted her sun hat and felt a crush of emotion. It was a perfect beach day, save for what they’d lost. Alexander should have been with them.
Eventually, Janie went back to the hotel, too exhausted from the sun to keep watching. There were numerous lifeguards on the sand, and her children were tireless, throwing themselves into the waves again and again.
When she entered the cool shadows of the lobby, she spotted a woman leaning on the wall near the pool outside. She was a little bit older than Janie, wearing dark sunglasses and a bright orange dress. Janie’s heart leaped into her throat.
“Chloe?” she cried, hurrying over.
Chloe swept her arms around Janie and cradled her close. Janie hadn’t imagined Chloe would see them. They’d been phone-call-only friends for what felt like ages at this point. Seeing her in the flesh, feeling her arms around her, and smelling her hair filled Janie with a sense of sorrow for all the time they’d lost.
“I tried to call,” Chloe said.
