Page 104 of Twisted Truth

“Emily is adamant that we go to it. There will be paparazzi outside the venue, and they’ll take note if we’re not there.”

“Fine, but I don’t want to stay long. There’s been an emergency at work that I need to keep close attention on.”

“Is everything okay?”

“No, but there’s not much I can do about it tonight other than keep my phone close for updates. But if something big does come up, we’ll have to go.”

“That’s fine, I understand.”

My phone buzzes again with a text from Declan on our brother group chat.

Declan: Akio is out of surgery. He’s alive, but the surgery didn’t go as well as hoped. He’s being placed in a medically induced coma, and a second surgery is scheduled for a week out. I’m headed to the hospital now to meet with his wife and kids.

Do you need me?

Declan: I’ve got it. I’ll make sure he’s given the best the hospital has.

Sterling: I’ve already found traces of tampering with our security footage. Whoever did it was thorough, though, so I don’t know if I’ll be able to restore anything.

Keep on it. We’ve got to find this fucker and bury them. But it needs to stay quiet; I don’t know who we can trust.

I lockmy phone and do my best not to scowl as Ella and I thread our way through lingering fans and paps to the car.No bad press,I remind myself again and again. I can’t afford it. And I can’t do that to Ella again; we’re still on thin ice as it is.

But inside, a rage has begun to simmer. Someone in my company, someone possibly on my fucking board, is working to sabotage one of my companies. Someone is willing to hurt my employees and risk their lives for their own greed. My life is cutthroat. Sometimes dangerous. I’ve always known that.

But this isn’t just business—this is personal. And I don’t take kindly to personal attacks.

Whoever this is, they’ve signed their death warrant. I’m not usually a violent person, but I can be if I need to. And now they’ve forced my hand. Whoever it is better run and fucking hide.

Because I’m coming for them.

30

ELLA

“You’ve got to stop brooding,” I grumble at Asher, although it comes out with less force than I wanted. The free flow of champagne is getting to my head. “People are tipsy enough they may not have noticed it, but I am not about to have a repeat of Saturday night.”

Asher sets down his whiskey. He’s been quiet and stuck in his head all during dinner. Luckily, tonight is dinner in a club, so it’s dark and loud—but I don’t care. We attract too many stares, and people are bound to notice his surly mood. I don’t want the night ruined in the eleventh hour.

Asher’s phone rings. “What is it?” he says as he answers. His eyes close as his face tenses. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fuck.” He picks up his whiskey and stands without another word. He marches toward the restrooms, ignoring anyone who tries to get his attention.

What is going on?

I take a long drink of my champagne, debating whether or not to go after him. Clearly it’s something big, and, whatever it is, it’s unlikely that I can help. But despite the logic of my brain shouting at me that it’s none of my business and has nothing todo with our arrangement, I can’t help but feel concern for him. It’s stupid. I shouldn’t entertain it. But dammit if I can help it. Asher can be a grade-A asshole, but he also has the stress of the world on his shoulders. And for some god-forsaken reason, I care about that.

I knock back the rest of my champagne, and it helps me finalize my decision. I’m two drinks in, and a blissful haze has settled over my mind, which means the nagging thoughts of why this is a bad idea fizzle away enough that I stand and follow Asher’s trail. The restrooms are at the end of a dark hallway, and for a moment I wonder what the hell I’m doing when I voluntarily walk into the men’s room. But I brush the thought away as quickly as it comes.

“Hey, doll, I think you’re lost,” a man says, smirking at me from the sink.

“Asher?” I call out.

Nothing.

I turn and dart back out the door.Where did he go?

“If you’re looking for Langford, he was headed toward the offices,” another man says as he exits the bathroom behind me. He points toward the other end of the hallway.

“Thanks.”