The perfect trap.
“Paradise Peaks is the next step,” I said.“The hotel.The surrounding properties.Once I control the Hughes legacy, I’ll have everything I need.”
Max’s eyes narrowed slightly.“And the senator?”
My grandfather.The word tasted like poison, so I never used it.Senator William Prescott had made his choice thirty years ago when his daughter brought home a Russian painter with wild eyes and no pedigree.He’d made it again when that painter turned out to be something worse than foreign.
Something with fangs.
“The boarding school he sent me to wasn’t unique.It was part of a network.”I kept my voice flat.Clinical.“Reform schools.Therapeutic institutions.Places where wealthy families pay to make problem children disappear.My grandfather didn’t just use the network.He invested in it.Shell companies, silent partnerships.He’s been profiting from institutionalized child abuse for thirty years.”
Max’s expression didn’t change, but I caught the subtle tension in his jaw.Even among wolves, some lines weren’t crossed.
“Richard Hughes was his fixer.When parents asked too many questions, Hughes made the questions stop.When journalists got too close to the story, they had accidents.”I finished my vodka.“Hughes kept records of everything.The investment trail.The cover-ups.The bodies.And he kept copies at the hotel as insurance.”
“You’re certain the evidence is there?”
“Hughes ran his operation from that hotel for decades.Hidden cameras in guest suites.Recording equipment in the walls.He captured every dirty secret that passed through his doors.”I set down the empty glass.“Including proof that my grandfather knew exactly where I was for fifteen years.Knew what was happening to me.And chose to leave me there.”
Max was quiet for a long moment.He knew my history.Knew what had been done to me by the people who should have protected me.
“You’re expanding quickly,” he said finally.“Paradise Peaks, Huntington Harbor, now this building in New York.Don’t let ambition become obsession, Raphael.Overreach has destroyed better men than us.”
“I’m always strategic.Always cautious.”
The lie came easily.I’d been telling it to myself for days.
She’s a pawn,I reminded myself.A tool.Nothing more.
She’s ours,the wolf disagreed.
My phone buzzed before I could respond.Parsons.
“What is it?”
“Sir.”My driver’s voice was clipped, professional.“Richard Hughes was just admitted to Paradise Peaks General.Massive stroke.He’s in a coma.”
I went very still.
“When?”
“Within the hour.His daughter found him.She’s at the hospital now.”
I ended the call and looked at Max.Something hot and dark was spreading through my chest.Satisfaction.Anticipation.The pieces I’d spent years arranging were finally falling into place.
Richard Hughes would die.His daughter would inherit nothing but debt.And she would have no choice but to come to me.
Good,the wolf purred.Let her come.Let her kneel.
But underneath the satisfaction, something else stirred.Something sharper.I thought of her sitting alone in that hospital waiting room.Twenty years old.No mother.Her father dying.No one to help her, no one to hold her, no one who understood what she was about to face.
She needs us,the wolf insisted.Go to her.Protect her.She’s ours to protect.
I ignored him.
“The first domino just fell,” I said.
Max refilled our glasses.The vodka caught the lamplight as he poured.He didn’t rush me.He never did.
