"Name it."
Shane told his brother what he needed.
"Can you do it this morning? It's time-sensitive."
"For you? Absolutely. I’ll call you when I’ve got something.”
“Thanks.” Shane disconnected and took a breath.
Should have done this years ago.
Hours later,Shane stood in the parking lot of Lyons Community Bank, straightening his tie. He'd gone home, showered, put on the suit he kept for special occasions thatrequired a certain kind of armor. Because that's what this was—going into battle. Just a different kind than he was used to.
His phone buzzed. Shane read the message from Flint.
Package delivered. Everything you need. Good hunting.
Shane pocketed the phone and headed for the entrance.
The bank was busy—early-afternoon rush, people on lunch breaks depositing checks and making withdrawals. Shane moved through the lobby like he owned it. He'd grown up here. How many times had his mother dragged him to this building as a kid, showing him off like a prize?This is my son, Shane. He's going to be just like his father someday.
God, he hoped not. He’d never inflict that on Kevin. Or any other child he and April would have. Armed with that thought, Shane went inside.
One of the tellers—probably new, didn't recognize him—started to speak, but Shane was already past her, heading for the executive corner office. His father's name gleamed on the brass plate on the door: Daniel Foti, President.
Shane didn't knock. He threw the door open and stepped inside. He had a moment to look at his father—really look at him. He’d gotten older, softer. He wasn’t the towering, muscled bully from Shane’s childhood anymore.
It took me too long to realize it.
And even if he were, Shane wouldn’t back down. Not this time. Not ever again.
Daniel looked up from his desk, momentary surprise flickering across his face before settling into cold displeasure. "Shane. I wasn't aware we had an appointment."
"We don't." Shane closed the door behind him and sat in one of the leather chairs facing the desk. "This won't take long."
"I'm busy?—"
"Then I'll get right to the point." Shane leaned back, forcing himself to appear relaxed even though every muscle was coiled tight. "You're going to call Sonny Taylor today and change the terms of his loan. Remove the prepayment penalty. Lower the interest rate to what it should have been in the first place and credit the excess into his account, which will probably pay it off. Make it right."
Daniel's face went carefully blank. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Shane's voice was conversational, almost pleasant. "Sure you do. The loan you gave the Taylors to start Riversong. The one you deliberately lied about when you wanted April to tutor me, dangling it in front of her parents like a too-good-to-be-true prize. It was, wasn’t it? You've been using it to control them ever since."
Daniel sneered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You structured it to trap them if necessary, then sprung the trap after you found out April and I were together. Though, I think that was the plan all along. I’ve always suspected that you’ve been cheating all sorts of people through the years."
"That's absurd?—"
"Is it?" Shane pulled out his phone, opened the file Flint had sent. "Because I've got documentation that says otherwise. Dates, terms, internal memos. Funny how the Taylors' interest rate is two points higher than anyone else's with similar credit. Funny how that prepayment penalty just happens to make refinancing impossible."
Daniel's jaw tightened. "Careful, son. You're treading on dangerous ground."
"Don't call me son." Shane's voice went cold. "You lost that right the first time you ever beat me. You had no hope of ever getting it back when you beat me bad enough to send me to thehospital for wanting to leave with April. When you made Mom lie about why I was there. When you threatened April and her family. When you made it your mission to punish them all these years because I fell in love with someone you and Mom didn't approve of."
Daniel shifted tactics, leaning back in his chair with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Speaking of your mother, she's devastated, you know. Absolutely heartbroken that you've cut her out of your life. She's become a laughingstock among her friends—the mother whose son won't even take her calls while they all have grandchildren they can see whenever they want. Do you have any idea how that feels? How you're destroying her?"
The words hit exactly where they were meant to—straight to the guilt Shane had been carrying for months. He looked away as he remembered his mother's face at Christmas, the way she'd looked at him with such hope before he'd walked away.
