I shake out two pills and swallow them dry. The tightness in my chest doesn’t ease immediately, but knowing I took them helps. I stash the bottle back in its hiding spot and close the panel.
Nobody needs to know. Especially not Dad, who would use it as proof that I’m not cut out for the dangerous side of the business.
I’m handling it. I’m fine.
I freshen up, throw on jeans and a thermal shirt, and head downstairs. The main dining room is empty, which means everyone has already eaten.
I grab coffee from the kitchen and find Mrs. Borris, our head cook, pulling fresh pastries from the oven.
“Morning, Kai,” she greets. “Your father was asking about you.”
“I’m sure he was.” I steal a croissant that’s still too hot to eat. “Did he look disappointed when I wasn’t at breakfast?”
“He looked like your father.” Which means yes. “He’s in his office with Donovan. Said to send you up when you surfaced.”
I take my coffee and head toward Dad’s office, already knowing what this conversation will be about.
His door is open. Dad sits behind his massive desk, Donovan in the chair across from him. They both look up when I walk in.
“Nice of you to join us,” Dad says. No real heat in it. He gave up on making me a morning person years ago.
“Missed me at breakfast?” I drop into the other chair and prop my feet on Dad’s desk. He doesn’t tell me to move them, which means he’s in a decent mood. “What’s the crisis?”
“The shipment we discussed.” Donovan slides a tablet across the desk toward me. “It arrived last night. Marco’s crew handled the initial transfer, but there’s a problem.”
I scan the report on the screen. Numbers, coordinates, names I recognize. Then I see it. “Three packages short.”
“Three packages worth two million.” Dad’s voice is calm, but I hear the steel underneath. “Marco says it’s not his crew. The supplier is blaming transport. Transport is blaming Marco.”
“And everyone’s lying.” I hand the tablet back to Donovan. “You want me to find out who?”
“I want you to fix it.” Dad leans back in his chair. “This supplier has been reliable for five years. If someone’s skimming, I need to know who and why. If it’s Marco’s crew, I need to know that too.”
This is what I do. What I’m good at. Donovan handles the legitimate business, the corporate acquisitions, and legal maneuvering. Dad oversees everything and makes the final calls. And me? I handle the problems that can’t be solved in boardrooms.
“I’ll make some calls.” I stand, running through my mental list of contacts. “Give me twenty-four hours.”
“Kai.” Dad’s voice stops me at the door. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
“When do I ever?” I flash him a grin.
“That’s what worries me.” But there’s affection in his tone. “And take your brother’s girlfriend skiing today. Donovan was supposed to, but he’ll be busy tracking the financial side of this mess.”
I blink. “Logan’s girlfriend?”
“Samantha.” Donovan doesn’t look up from his tablet. “Dad thinks we should make her feel welcome. Show her the estate. Since Logan’s doing a terrible job of it.”
I think about Samantha. Dark hair, sharp eyes, that burgundy dress at dinner. Logan doesn’t deserve her, but that’s not exactly news.
“Fine.” I head for the door. “I’ll play tour guide. But after I make those calls about the shipment.”
I spend the next few hours in my room, working my way through contacts who might know something about the missing packages. Marco swears his crew is clean. The transport company swears its drivers are reliable. The supplier swears they sent everything.
Everyone’s lying, or someone’s lying, and I need to figure out which.
By the time I’m done, I have three possible leads and a headache. I pop another pill from my hidden stash and head back downstairs.
I need a break. And I need to find Samantha and take her skiing like Dad asked.
