I start to nod, only to freeze. The hairs on the back of my neck bristle, and I suck in a sharp breath. My head snaps over and crooks, but I don’t notice the twinge as shock numbs my body. Her father has to know about this. Fuck, there’s no way he couldn’t . . . and he’s left his daughter to deal with the mess he made. Now I know why Delilah’s been so stressed. She’s dealing with an impossible situation.
Staring at my sister with wide eyes, I sit up to cup my chin and blink hard.
My mind, which won’t fucking stop racing blindly and bashing into my skull, can’t understand the reasoning of this. This. What even is this? My lips are dry as I part them.
“Repeat that?” I demand, and Keeva inhales deeply. I close my eyes to listen intently. Even my heart seems to stop beating as she does as I ask. My ears ring, and I shake my head. “Tell me everything she told you.”
“Her meeting didn’t go very well. Delilah went down for it, and her father tried to lock her and the new accountant for Knitted Hearts out. She fired the old accountant who worked under her father, but she was at the office today, in the conference room with Delilah’s father,” Keeva starts, seriousness inflecting her tone. Anger rises in my gut, and I clench my hands into fists on my lap. “She didn’t let that happen, though. She kicked him out and the woman, who’s obviously her dad’s accomplice. Apparently, it’s been going on for years, and this woman knew all about it. I’m sure she helped cover it up. I’m not sure on the exact details about her, but Delilah said her dad was furious when he found out she fired her.”
“Why’d Delilah fire her? Did she find out about the strange activity?”
Keeva nods. “Basically. She confronted the woman. Her name’s Penelope, I think. They had words, and she tried to shrug it off, but Delilah wasn’t having any of it. Delilah fired her on the spot. Delilah said it wasn’t just a few misplaced invoices or surplus orders. It’s tons of money disappearing into thin air. It’s millions of euros on hidden books, and the coverup isn’t even that good. She even said there are obvious wires being sent to Swiss bank accounts. It’s a whole mess, and poor Delilah. Brother, I feel so terribly for her.”
I sit back and sigh, my lungs burning for fresh air. But Keeva doesn’t stop talking, her tone soft and worried. “Anyway, Delilah’s been looking into it the past couple weeks, and her dad’s acting really sketchy. When she kicked him out of the meeting, it basically confirmed for her that something was happening that shouldn’t have been. He didn’t want her to know about it. He didn’t want anyone to know about it, and he tried to give Penelope her job back and be untouchable. But Delilah basically steamrolled over him, and during the meeting.” Keeva pauses, and I grunt lowly in urgency. Anxiety curdles my blood. Meanwhile, I’m dreading whatever my sister’s about to say. “Not only were there those Swiss wire transfers. There are transfers to unauthorized accounts, personal and businesses. Most appear to be businesses that own properties. There’s no doubt in my mind he’s hiding money. It’s a mess, a huge bloody mess.”
“What does she want to do about it?” I ask, feeling stupid. My mouth dries from my anger. I know Delilah. She’ll fight tooth and nail for her pride. I don’t blame her for going to Keeva. This bullshite makes me want to fucking kill the old man. How dare he put her in jeopardy, his own daughter! Nonetheless, for money, when he has plenty of it.
“Keenan?” Tensing as Keeva puts a hand on my knee, I clear my throat. Shake my head free of the images that haunt behind my eyes. She smiles sympathetically, leaning back to rub her cheek with the back of her fingers. “Delilah wants to clean up the situation, obviously, but she doesn’t really know how. It’s not a little bit of money you can say ‘oops, I pressed the wrong button on the computer’ and give it back. The donors and board members aren’t going to be okay with millions of Euros being siphoned into those accounts. I tried to tell her that she needs help, but who can she even ask?”
“And before you say it,” Keeva glares at me somewhat playfully, “we can’t kill him. Even if he does deserve it.” What in the bloody hell? Why would Keeva even be suggesting that? She doesn’t know anything that Eamon and I do . . . so I’m hoping she’s simply pissed about what’s happening to Delilah. I doubt she knows the true meaning behind our family’s business, and if she does, we’ll need to talk about it.
“Well, that would be the best option,” I growl in frustration. My sister chuckles, shaking her head.
“I bet it’s all you can think of, but Keenan . . .” She points at my shoulder, and I grip it self-consciously. My skin is hot through my T-shirt. “Even if we could kill him and get away with it, that’s not the answer. The problem is the money.”
“I know. I know,” I admit unhappily. “How can he do such a shite thing to his own daughter? Doesn’t he understand how much it’ll fuck her if this gets out publicly?”
“That’s what she said, too. I told her he probably doesn’t care because he doesn’t think he’ll get caught. That’s the kind of man he is. And if he does get caught, he can probably blame it on Penelope since she facilitated it all. But you know that’s not why Delilah is panicking. Knitted Hearts . . . it’s something she takes immense pride in, and it’ll be a giant black stain. No one will ever let her work in any proper capacity. No matter who takes the blame, it’ll follow her all over.” Keeva ends her informative tangent with a shake of her head and a sigh. “I don’t know. I hate seeing her so stressed out. She’s a good, kind person. She doesn’t deserve this. I think she’s trying to handle this herself, but fuck, I know she needs help.”
She’s right. Delilah does need help. “I know she would’ve told me after it was all over.” I roll my eyes and smile wryly at my sister as she laughs again. “Thanks for telling me, Keeva. I appreciate your honesty.”
“Yeah. I’m glad she came to me, but I really don’t know how to help. I hate feeling like I don’t know what’s going on or how to solve it. Not that Delilah of all people will accept anyone’s help.” Keeva’s words are beyond true. Delilah’s too damn stubborn and she always will be.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
DELILAH
Ismile at myself. Better yet, it’s a true smile for the first time in what seems like forever. Keenan and I are going out on a date. What kind of date? Ah, those details don’t matter to me one bit. I need a break from all this drama at work, and he has this hidden talent at making me present in the moment. I don’t daydream and try to problem solve. I simply relax with Keenan. No matter what’s going on, I can count on him.
But that thought is a double-edged sword. There are so many people I can’t count on. Notably, my own fucking father. Snatching my phone off the vanity, I lick my lips to stop my growing scowl. He’s still ignoring me. He still won’t answer the door, and I’m heading over there all the time. As I should, I deserve answers. Fuck, I demand them. But he doesn’t stop there. My father still won’t answer my calls. What is he an angsty teenager? Irritation dries my mouth, burning hot in my chest.
I don’t know whether it’s good that the phone rings. At least he didn’t block me. Like I’m the adult, and he’s the child. The lying, thieving child.
I still don’t know what to do about it. I hired Haisley, but she can only do so much so fast. There’s so much paperwork, so many numbers. Sure, she has other people at her company on the case, but still. There’s only so much you can do in such a short amount of time. Then again, there’s so much to track down and so much to document. I sigh heavily under the weight of it all. Fuck, this isn’t how I want to start the night.
Standing up to walk to my bed, I pick up the sleek, black dress laying on the mattress and hold it to my chest. The silk fabric tickles just above my knees. The single shoulder cradles the only adornment, a silver clasp. Smiling happily, memories of seeing this dress and falling in love with it earlier today flood in my mind.
At that moment, nothing mattered but buying this dress. As vain as it sounds, I needed this dress. This beautiful scrap of fabric for a few minutes made all my problems drift away. It was too beautiful to pass up, so I hope it looks good on me.
This date tonight is so important, and I nod to myself determinately. This is more important than my father, or Knitted Hearts. This is more important than any petty drama caused by money. Or even missing money. Keenan is more important to me than all of that . . . I just can’t be with him if I’m in fucking Australia. I keep making a joke that if I get caught, I’m fleeing to Australia. It truly shows how low I’ve sunk.
Maybe I can convince him to come with me. I bet he’d consider it . . . possibly. Ugh, why am I even doing this to myself?
Stepping into the dress, a nervous shiver runs down my spine as the fabric hugs me perfectly. It’s like a second skin. I always get nervous trying on clothes because they’re one of two options: too tight, or just perfect.
Satisfaction forms in my chest as I pull the dress over my bare tits. The silk is cold, almost, and oh, so deliciously smooth. Adjusting the shoulder strap, I look down to admire myself. I like the way the skirt flares a little and swishes against my thighs.
I savor this feeling. This great sensation that blooms within me. Nibbling my bottom lip, I walk to the vanity to pick out a light shade of lipstick. My phone vibrates in my free hand, and I smile automatically.
