“You’re right. Itistime for you to retire,” Alan said, “if you think you can get away with robbing me.”
Wade swore softly. “Clever,” he breathed.
Shelby barely heard him, listening hard to hear her father’s voice. Why did he leave the talking to Alan? For all the times she had bitterly called her father horrible names, deep inside where she wouldn’t let anyone see it—not even herself—a part of her had wanted to meet him. As a child, she’d fantasized about a wonderful man coming to claim her, someone to take her away from the life she lived and the mother Shelby could never decide whether to love or hate. Now, Charles Grantham was just around the corner.
“I believe you will do everything I require,” Philip said. “Son, go bring us Ms. Nash.”
Before he finished the words, Wade was pulling Shelby away again. He shifted them around, so he was behind her and hurrying her along the corridor toward the stairs.
But Alan was back there. And her father.
“Stop, Masters,” Shang Junior called. Wade continued to push her until Shang Junior said, “I’ll shoot.”
Shelby jumped at the sound of a revolver being cocked; she stopped. Wade crashed into her. They staggered against the stair doors and froze. Through the window into the stairwell, she found Ava staring back at her. Shelby’s heart raced, and with wide, scared eyes she held her hand in the shape of a gun before putting a finger to her lips in a shushing motion. She prayed Ava wasn’t part of this.
“You didn’t really think you could get away, did you, Ms. Nash?” Philip Shang Junior’s disdain had never been more powerful. “Now come back so you can meet your father.”
