I didn’t save them.
“The engine design?”
Denver shakes his head like it’s the first time I’ve asked him. When in reality, it’s the first thing he checked out years ago.
“Same one that’s in thousands of others without issue. There hasn’t been another fire in any of them since…”
I drag my hands down my face.
“So it wasn’t the company who built the yacht or the one that designed it. We’re back to square fucking one,” Mal hisses, tension lining his forehead.
“I’ve got a contact,” Denver says, leaning forward in his black suit, elbows resting on his knees. “He might be able to help. Someone he knows just started working at the marina. Those CCTV cameras they claimed were out of action?” He cracks his knuckles. “Yeah, turns out they might not have been completely honest with us.”
“How long until you can get your hands on them?” Mal asks, a murderous glint shining in his eyes.
He’s been as hell-bent as me on finding out what really happened that day. What stole his sister and nephew from him. She was the only family he had. Not counting myself and the kids. He and Elaina lost their parents long before mine passed. They were close. He’s never given up hunting for answers, the same as me.
But I’m starting to believe we’ll never get any answers.
“Shouldn’t be long.” Denver looks at Jenson and Killian, two of his team members, flanking one side of my desk.
Beaufort Diamonds has its own security team, as does Seasons. Jenson and Killian work for the family, doing whatever we need. And they’re headed by Denver, an ex-special forces guy who’s worked for me for years.
I trust him with my life.
“Whatever you need, the jet, the house in Cape Town, it’s yours. Do whatever you have to.”
“Thanks, Boss.” He nods.
“That’s not a damn toy,” I snap at Jenson.
“Sorry, Boss.” He catches the pink stone mid-air that he’s been throwing up and down absentmindedly and places it back on my desk. I pin him with a glare until he twists the crystal heart back into the exact position he found it in.
Mal eyes me with interest. “Been accessorizing?”
“They’re Halliday’s.”
“Ah. The love expert.”
“The lady you’ve got us running a check on, Boss?”
I grimace at Killian’s question, guilt swimming in my stomach. We check out everyone who comes into close contact with our family. It’s the way it’s always been. If someone new comes to work for us, we dig deep. We have to know everything. Being the largest diamond jewelry brand in the world comes at a cost. There are always people with ulterior motives.
But Halliday isn’t working within Beaufort Diamonds or Seasons. She’s working with me personally. The only sensitive information she’ll have access to is what I choose to share with her.
“Just surface level. Criminal history, that’s all. I don’t want to know anything personal. She’s not a threat.”
“Maybe not, but she sure is pretty.” Jenson whistles. “I would.”
“You. Would. Not,” I grit. “Halliday’s too sophisticated for a kid like you.”
Jenson scowls as Killian breaks out laughing.
“Maybe when your training wheels are off, eh?” Denver smirks.
“I’m twenty-fucking-one,” Jenson grumbles.
“Yeah, and if it weren’t for the fact you’re built like a truck, you’d look about twelve,” Killian jibes.
