“Theo, stop this.” Horace squirmed under his grasp, coughing. “I…I can’t breathe.”
Theo loosened the hold of his collar without letting him go. “It’s a hit-and-run. You killed them and walked free.”
“I see that’s how it looks—”
Theo groaned. “How it looks? You’re a murderer.” Hell, what else could he add to his uncle’s unknown resume? What other wrongdoings did he hide from most people?
“It was an accident,” his uncle squealed. “I’m sorry. I…thought about reaching out to the girl, to help her financially, but I was scared something would happen.”
Something would happen to him, no doubt. Theo let go of his uncle, who fell to the floor like a heavy sack. “Like justice.”
Horace loosened his collar, then touched his neck, rubbing the reddening area. “I’m the villain here. I get it. Let’s not pretend I don’t know what you’re doing.”
Theo glanced down at his uncle sitting on the floor. Pity for the man he could have been stabbed at him. Horace could have been an honorable businessman, admired by his peers. Instead, he became a sleazeball who prioritized his own interests at all times—even at the cost of people’s lives. Theo swallowed the lump of pity, and cleared his throat twice.
No. Horace didn’t deserve his pity—he’d been irresponsible and ended up killing Amaya’s parents.
“You brought that woman here to slander me in front of the board. You’ve been waiting for the right moment, am I correct? Perhaps the annual company party?”
“You’re done.”
“No.” Horace stood. “I’ll explain it to the members of the board. Trust me, maybe not all but the majority will be on my side when I come to them and say an unfortunate accident happened.”
“An accident? That’s rich. I’ll call the authorities,” Theo said. Because the offense happened overseas, he’d have to find out exactly how. If his uncle had hurt anyone in Greece, that’d be easier.
“Please. You’d have to go to Vegas and look into it, and I’ll have my lawyer make sure I don’t get extradited. There were no witnesses, no evidence. It’s hearsay,” his uncle said, his voice steady.
“I’m a witness. I heard you talking to someone.” Someone he could contact, if only he knew his name.
“A highly motivated one, aren’t you? Let me burst your bubble. If I go to jail, I won’t automatically lose my stocks. I can simply sell them to a couple of board members to make sure you never become president.”
“This isn’t about me.”
“Then why else did you bring Miss Lopez to Athens in such a timely manner? To get rid of me so you don’t have to marry Talia.”
Theo pinched the bridge of his nose. If he told his uncle the truth, he’d lose leverage. And, if he accused him publicly right now, he’d have no evidence. To get him arrested for what he’d done, Theo needed to act strategically. He needed time.
“I don’t want your detective or whatever slimy bastard you hired on her tail. Now that all cards are out, you’re dealing with me about this from now on. Not her.”
“Will do.” His uncle stretched out his hand with a triumphant smile on his lips.
Theo stared at his hand, but shook his head. “Just because I’m keeping quiet, don’t think you get a pass. You were responsible, Horace.”
“You’re so much like your father. Never admit when you’re wrong. When you settle down and think about it, you’ll see my proposal is fair. You forget about the accident, marry sweet Talia, and get your laurels in a couple months.”
…
Amaya inhaled the inviting aroma of the beef empanadas she’d just removed from the oven. Placing them in a nice serving dish, she contemplated the table filled with dishes from her childhood her mother used to make. A selection of enchiladas, with Mexican rice and beans, accompanied by salsas and a zesty tortilla soup crowded the linens.
Hopefully, he’ll like one of these.
She’d sent Valda home early and enjoyed every bit of the pretend homemaking experience. Maybe one day, much in the future, she’d have someone in her life for good. A man who understood her, her brother, and his demands. Even with him living in a group home, Diego still needed assistance.
Besides, he was all she had.
The sound of footsteps made her remove her apron and bunch it in her hand. Quickly, she tossed it on the counter and hurried to the door. Excitement crept under her skin. Silly, she knew, but this would be a small way to share some of her past, her home life, herself with him. Why was it so important? She finger-combed her hair, willing any rationalization away. This was just a meal—one she’d been happy to prepare to fill her free time. Yep.
“Hey,” she said, greeting him at the door.
