Because I, too, have to get back to work.
Decide what I want in exchange for my silence.
And I can think of two different things to ask for.
Two very, very different things.
One will get me closer to the future I want to live in, even if there won’t be any guarantees it will work.
One will give me satisfaction about the past, but possibly destroy part of my soul—the part of my soul that knows I’ve always behaved in a way that my mom would be proud of—to do it.
Question is, which strategy am I going to take?
9
THE HEIRESS AND THE NAKED MAN
Margot
I dislikewhen I only have two options, but I can only see two options right now.
The first is to just drop the bomb on the triplets—our father is the second-generation CEO of Aurora Gardens and I’d like your help to take the bastard down to avenge our sister—and the second is to negotiate with Rhys for his silence while I continue to get to know them so I can feel out their willingness to help me once they know me.
It took me two years to build up the kind of relationship I need with three-quarters of the board to trust they’d vote on my side when I propose forcibly removing my father from his position,ifI can bring them enough proof that he’s a liability.
Building enough trust with the triplets to convince them to forgive me for my hesitation to be fully honest with them about my identity from the beginning, and then to also be the final nail in the coffin of my father’s career for Daphne’s sake?
I knew I wouldn’t have two years, but I thought I’d have more than five days.
Between Jonas spotting me and Rhys knowing who I am, though, the clock is ticking.
Rhys’s truck is already back at the cabin when I arrive, which is fine.
Let him think he has some power by being here first or whatever.
He clearly wants something, or he wouldn’t have told me he knows who I am before telling the triplets.
I texted with Lucky to let him know I’d had a long day at work and still hoped to make it to Silver Horn, the secret speakeasy hiding beneath House of Curry in downtown Snaggletooth Creek, but that I needed a nap first.
Nothing in Lucky’s response—totally get it, my days are like that too sometimes—suggested that he’s suspicious of me yet.
I park my van, which is running so much better now than it was when it was delivered to Cyril outside of Boulder last week so that he could be prepared for me here, and I check my phone.
Just a message from my lead security agent. I’m coming up through the woods. Open the window.
He’s not pleased that I’m having this conversation either.
I text back anokemoji, click the button on the garage remote to shut the door, and heft myself out of the van.
Garage doesn’t smell much better than the van does, though the garage at least has more garage smells and fewer children-spilled-milk-in-this smells.
I would very much like the smell of my van to be the biggest problem in my life right now.
Since the garage is detached, there’s a short walk from the side door to the house, and I pause when I’m halfway between the two.
It feels like something’s watching me.
Something rustles in the forest behind the house, the opposite direction Cyril should be coming from, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
