TWO

Anger rolled off Royce in thick waves. “No. No way does Alice get off scot-fucking-free.”

“Of course not,” Macalister snapped. “I will handle it with an appropriate response, but it needs to be done with . . . discretion.”

“Discretion.” Royce repeated the word like it made him ill. “She tried to kill Marist.”

“Alice is many things, but she’s not stupid. I don’t believe that was her intent.”

“Oh, really?” Royce snarled. “What the fuck was she trying to do, then?”

The words dropped heavily from Macalister’s lips, and it was the closest to guilt I’d ever seen him come. “She wanted my attention.”

The air in the room went still. Truth was such a rare thing between the Hales, it stretched the moment taut to the point it was unbearable.

“I’m not that good of a liar,” I said.

My statement rankled him. “I have confidence in you.”

Macalister’s condescending tone gave me enough fire in my belly to burn through my exhaustion. “I’m supposed to tell people I’m stupid and made a dumb mistake—one bad enough to send me to the hospital. You expect me to sacrifice my reputation to save yours?”

Hostility skulked in his eyes. “The family’s reputation—”

“Please. We all know what this is really about.” I shifted uncomfortably on the bed, doing my best to sit up and not look weak. Had Alice realized the full extent of what she’d done? She’d handed me tremendous power over her husband, and I was about to wield it. “All that favor you’ve been building with Lambert won’t mean a thing if the truth comes out. You can kiss your seat on the Fed goodbye.”

Because no president would nominate someone attached to that kind of scandal. Macalister wouldn’t survive his confirmation hearing.

He looked at me now like he used to. I was insignificant, a speck of lint daring to mar his perfectly tailored suit. “You will do this for me, Marist.”

“Yes, I will,” I wasn’t sure if it was the drugs pumping in my system that made my heart race, or just the situation, “assuming we can reach an agreement.”

Surprise made Royce’s head snap my direction. I’d caught him off-guard, but he came up to speed instantly, and excitement flooded his eyes. He understood what I was about to do.

This was how I would escape Macalister’s obsession.

A few long strides brought the man to my bedside, which would now serve as our negotiating table, and ugly resignation smeared across his face. He didn’t want to bargain for anything and liked even less how much leverage I held over him, but he had no choice. There was no alternative.

“An agreement concerning what?” He sounded disinterested, but I saw through the pretense. He knew exactly what I was going to ask for . . .

And he dreaded it.

I licked my dry lips before pressing them together and set my hand on top of Royce’s. My diamond engagement ring gleamed in the early sunlight, and I blinked slowly before lifting my gaze back to my opponent. My voice was steady. “You’ll give me everything you promised me if I’d won that game and escaped the maze.”

Beneath my hand, Royce’s tensed a second time. Like me, he didn’t want to remember that night in the hedge maze where I’d gambled everything and lost. He’d told me his father didn’t play a game unless he was sure he was going to win, and I’d learned that lesson the hard way.

I should have known he was going to cheat. It was win at all costs, after all.

My eyebrows tugged together as I focused on the start of the game, where Macalister had laid out the rules. “You remember what you said?”

His expression turned sour. “Of course, I do.”

“Then repeat it, so the terms are clear.”

He let out a sigh of frustration, closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked like a spoiled brat, perpetually unsatisfied, even when he had nearly everything he wanted. “I will allow you to make your own choices.”

I expected him to continue, but . . . he didn’t.

Anger swelled inside me. “That wasn’t all of it.”

“Your car will be returned to you.” He paused so long, I opened my mouth to protest further, and it pushed him to continue. “If you wish, you can live elsewhere until the wedding.”

It was clear he wasn’t going to say the most important part, so I did it for him. “And you’re done trying to come between me and Royce. No more threats of taking away his board seat, no more games—chess or otherwise. Everything between us is settled and done. It’s over.”

It’s over, and you lost, I wanted to say but didn’t.

The muscle running along his jaw flexed as he ground his teeth together, restraining whatever he really wanted to say. The control he held over himself was razor thin, and I didn’t want to see it snap. Last time it had, I’d wound up flattened against a bookcase in the library, and I didn’t want to think about what would have happened if Alice hadn’t caught him in the act.

His eyes were storm clouds looming over a turbulent ocean. “I believe I said I wouldn’t stand in the way.”

Even though my head ached, I shook it. “That’s not good enough. This has to stop, Macalister.”

His gaze darted to Royce. “You’ll give us a minute.”

Instinctively, I squeezed Royce’s hand to keep him from moving, but he was already on the same page as me. Defiance coated his words. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“He stays,” I added, backing him up. If Macalister was going to plead with me, he could do it in front of his son.

A distance grew, first in his cold eyes, and then in his physical retreat. Macalister’s posture was stiff yet challenging. Like he anticipated a fight he wasn’t all that confident he could win and needed space to make his charge. “If that’s what you want, then I will try. However, you gave me quite a different impression when I found you on the stairs.”

Heat seared across my cheeks as the blood rushed to my face. “I thought you were Royce.”

The corner of his mouth lifted, but it was too tactical to be called a smile. “Did you? We aren’t often mistaken for each other.”

It was true. Royce favored his father, but they weren’t spitting images. Macalister was taller and narrower, with darker hair and lighter eyes. Even the way they carried themselves was different. Macalister moved with calculated efficiency, whereas Royce had ease and swagger.

“I’d been drugged,” I said.

The question came from Royce in a tight voice. “What’s he talking about?”

Arrogance washed through his father’s expression. “I find it interesting that, as you lay there, believing you were dying, you chose not to say that. Time was of the essence, and you used it to tell me you loved me.”

I nearly came up off the bed, hissing it at him. “Because I was hallucinating, and I thought you were him.”

His lips widened into an evil grin. Macalister didn’t believe me. For as smart as he could be, deep down he was still human, and he’d twisted the situation until it fit the narrative he desperately desired.

And worse, I’d allowed him to play me. We were negotiating, and now I was on the defensive. My focus swiveled from my opponent to the boy who’d ceased moving. Did he believe me, or had he allowed his father to plant a seed of doubt in his mind? Even now, Macalister was trying to disrupt us.

“I’m in love with Royce,” I declared loudly so both men would hear. “My loyalty is to him. If you want me to lie to save both you and your wife, then you’ll agree to my terms.”

It took him forever to say anything. Finally, “If I were to—”

“Ascension,” I said abruptly.

Both men looked like I’d just driven over them with my Porsche.

Macalister’s suspicious gaze angled toward his son. “What about it?”

Was I leaving money on the table? For years, Royce had quietly accrued stock in the competing bank for what I assumed was a plan to take control. And once he’d taken over Ascension, he would use it to go after HBHC.

But Macalister had somehow learned of Royce’s plan and was making his own move to acquire the competitor. A defensive play to shut down everything Royce had spent years setting up.

“Agree that HBHC won’t buy it,” I said.

The shock on Royce’s face drained away and he went . . . blank. His expression was too guarded for me to be able to read anything in it. I didn’t understand at all. Was he worried if he showed an emotion, he’d give too much away to his father? I had the strange feeling he was unhappy about what I’d said, but it was likely he was overcompensating. Surely, he wanted this. It had been his goal.

Right?

Honestly, I didn’t know. He’d never let me in, never answered my questions. Even if he hadn’t danced around them and given me an answer, I wasn’t sure what to trust. For years, he’d spun lies, and the truth had only become murkier as I fell under his spell.

Macalister was far easier to understand. His jaw set and his eyes narrowed. My demand had truly offended him. “That is not up for negotiation. Let me make one thing crystal clear, Marist. I will not have business decisions dictated to me by you, or anyone else. Is that understood?”

“The board already voted in favor of it, Marist.” Royce’s voice was odd and distant.

“Overwhelmingly, I might add.” Macalister lifted his chin, exaggerating the way he looked down on me. “Royce was the only dissenting vote.”

I squeezed my fiancé’s hand, wishing I could understand. Did he want me to try to fight for this, or was he subtly telling me it was already too late? I stared into his blue eyes, desperate for answers, but found none.

From across the room, a soft knock rang out on the suite door.

“We’re out of time,” Macalister said quickly. “I agree to your initial terms. Do we have a deal?”

I sucked in a breath and swallowed it. “Yes.”

We didn’t shake hands. He simply stood across the room and gave half of a nod, confirming the deal was closed. He didn’t seem thrilled, but the pleased look that crossed his face made my stomach bottom out. I was tired and vulnerable, and in my weakened state, I’d made a mistake.

I should have bargained for more.

The door swung open, but it wasn’t medical staff that came in—it was my parents. With all that had changed between us, it was shocking how it all was inconsequential now. My heart ached at the sight of them, and I bit down on my bottom lip to stop its trembling.

“Oh, Marist,” my mom gasped as she flew toward me, her arms outstretched. Royce stepped back to make space, and I welcomed her hug greedily. She was soft, and warm, and my mom. As hard as it was to accept how fixated she was on money and status, I knew deep down she loved me more. My father, my sister, and I were more important than anything else.

My father stood beside her, his hand on her shoulder and concern on his face while she continued to squeeze me tightly.

“What happened?” She smoothed a hand over the back of my head in comforting, repeating strokes.

It was unfair that the first time I’d have to tell the lie, it would be to the people I most didn’t want to.

“Uh . . .” I started.

And then suddenly Royce was there, doing what he’d been spent his lifetime perfecting . . .

He lied.

He explained how one of the staff members had turned me on to a homemade tea with leaves grown in the herb garden. Only last night, I’d misidentified the plant—easy to do, he added. They grew right beside each other. The lie rolled out of him with such ease, I nearly believed him.

My parents bought it completely.

“How awful. Thank God you’re all right.” My mother had grabbed my hand and refused to let go. “I’m sorry we weren’t here sooner. I still had my phone on silent from the gala, and your father’s was charging downstairs.” She used her other hand to latch onto Royce’s arm. “Thank you for sending your brother to get us.”

From my bed, I peered up at him. “You sent Vance to my parents’ house?”

To anyone else, his smile would seem warm, but I saw through to the unease masked beneath. “No one could get hold of them, and . . . I thought they should be here.”

It was a slug to my heart. He’d been worried I was going to die before my parents even knew I’d gone to the hospital.

Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them away before whispering, “Thank you.”

And I’d thank Vance the first chance I got.

“From now on,” my father said, “you only drink tea that comes from the store.”

“Agreed,” said the man lingering by the window.

At Macalister’s deep voice, my mother froze. He’d been off to the side, and she’d been distracted by the sight of me and Royce when she’d come into the room, so she’d failed to notice him. Like an outsider, he was the only one not gathered at my bedside.

Panic swamped her face as she looked down and realized what she was wearing. After Vance had woken them up, my parents had obviously thrown on whatever clothes were fastest and then raced to Boston. For my mother, it had been yoga pants and an Etonsons University sweatshirt. No makeup. Her hair was down and flattened from a half-night’s sleep.

She’d never been so unkempt in front of my father’s boss and the king of Cape Hill before, and he held even more power over us now.

“Macalister.” She squeezed out a strained smile as she tucked her hair behind an ear. “I didn’t see you there.” Her gaze swept across the room, searching for who else she may have missed. “Is Alice here too?”

“No.”

When he didn’t elaborate, she exchanged a quick, puzzled look with my father. “Oh.” She struggled visibly with how to proceed. “Have you been here long?”

She winced at her question, probably realizing the answer was obvious. He wore the same tuxedo she’d seen him in at the gala last night, so it was clear he hadn’t had time to change.

Something was buried in his voice. Was that . . . pride? Macalister didn’t smile, but it gave me the same uneasy feeling I had when he did. “I was the one who found Marist after she’d collapsed.”

“Oh,” was all my mother could say.

Her gaze flitted back to me in the bed, and I watched her throat bob in a hard swallow. If she was nervous about Macalister seeing her in sweats, she was downright terrified he was seeing me in a shapeless hospital gown. I could only imagine what my face looked like. The only makeup I wore was whatever was left over from yesterday, and probably beneath my eyes instead of the eyelids above them.

“Well, we’re glad you were there to help her,” she choked out.

She was likely recalling the terrible moment my sister Emily had thrown up all over Macalister’s hand. He was basically the last person she would have chosen to see me like that.

For once, Macalister Hale said exactly what he meant. “I’m glad I was there too.”

I fought the urge to suck in a deep breath.

The suite was like a high-end hotel, but it was still a hospital, complete with beeping machines and nursing staff that cycled through at all hours, making meaningful sleep impossible.

When the doctor informed me I needed to stay overnight, I tried to talk Royce into heading home and getting a decent night of sleep, but he wouldn’t hear it. At some point when I’d been napping, he’d had clothes delivered, and then showered in the suite’s full bathroom and changed.

Now, as the sunlight was fading outside, I rolled over in the bed and peered at him through the railing.

He sat on the tan couch, one arm slung along the back of it, wearing a maroon sweater over dark jeans, and his gaze locked on to the phone he held in his lap. His dark eyebrows were pulled together as he was deep in concentration. Whatever he was reading, it had his full attention.

I’d never been jealous of a phone until this moment.

I wanted his intense stare pinned on me, the one that used to make me uncomfortable, but now I craved. My voice was raspy from exhaustion, and breathless from the sight of how handsome he was. “Hey.”

Royce’s head lifted, and, when his gaze found mine, he pushed to his feet. “Hey, you’re awake. How’re you feeling?”

“Still weird,” I said glumly. At least the lights had finally lost their halos and my head didn’t hurt as much. But between the fatigue and the medicine I’d been given to regulate my heart, I felt disconnected from my body. “Did my parents leave?”

“They went to get something to eat and check in on your sister.”

Because Emily was on bedrest, and probably not allowed to travel to Boston. I inhaled slowly. “And your father?”

His shoulders lifted in an equally deep breath. “He went home to deal with . . . things there.”

It was like he couldn’t bring himself to say her name, and I was grateful. “So, we’re alone.”

“We are.”

The light coming through the window warmed, and the air in the room thickened.

“Come here,” I whispered.

A faint smile teased his lips as he strode toward me, a gorgeous man who I hoped felt at least a fraction of the way I did about him.

“I know I’m a mess right now,” I said, “but if you don’t kiss me, I’ll feel like I’m dying all over again.”

“Fuck, Marist.” His hand dove beneath my head, gingerly scooping me up into his kiss that obliterated everything else. His mouth was hot, a branding iron against my lips, marking me as his. His other hand cupped my cheek, holding me in place while he laid siege.

The Greek myth of Helen of Troy had been told a thousand different ways. In some versions, the most beautiful mortal in the world was stolen away from her loving husband, the king of Sparta, by an evil prince and dragged unwillingly to Troy. In others, she was seduced and ran away with her new lover.

The only constant in the myth was that it led to the Trojan War. Two great empires went to battle over the love of one woman.

Was that what this kiss was? Royce was king Menelaus, launching a thousand ships to rescue me from his opponent, the one who felt he was entitled to whatever he wanted, including me? Was Royce willing to sacrifice everything and go to war for me?

I sighed against the soft, deliberate brush of his lips over mine, each pass deepening our connection.

“Did you mean it?” I said breathlessly between kisses. “When you said you loved me?”

His mouth slowed and separated from mine, and with each inch of space he put between us, the farther my heart sank. He kept my face cupped in his hands but pulled back enough so I could see every fleck of uncertainty in his eyes.

We’d promised when we were alone, we wouldn’t lie to each other. We’d said we’d always get to be the people we truly were when it was just the two of us. But I could see the struggle inside him. He didn’t want to hurt me, but he also didn’t want to lie.

As I waited for his answer, my breath came and went so quickly, I grew lightheaded.

His words were quiet and measured. “I don’t know.”

In theory, it was a better answer than a solid no, but somehow it felt worse. Like a sugar-coated no, only instead of tasting sweet, it was acidic.

“It’s not a complicated question,” I said, blinking back the tears that leapt into my eyes. I didn’t want to push him, but I’d been through too much the last few days, not to mention hell last night, and couldn’t stop myself. I needed him, and I would recklessly go after what I wanted.

Royce’s gaze drifted down to settle on my lips, and his thumb brushed softly over my cheekbone. “The way I feel about you is hard to put into words.”

I swallowed thickly. “Try.”

His eyes turned back to meet mine. “Everything I’ve ever really cared about has been taken from me.”

He hesitated and fell silent. This wasn’t a ‘poor little rich boy’ act. He was talking about so much more than just possessions. He was talking about opportunities. Choices.

And his mother.

“So, after a time,” he finally continued, “I learned it was better not to get attached to anything. It’s easier then when he takes it away.” He leaned in, setting the top of his forehead against mine. “You made that fucking impossible. I wanted to be cold, an unfeeling stone.” His voice went low and thick. “But you, Medusa? You have the opposite effect on me.”

He pressed his lips to mine, dropping a short, abrupt kiss on my mouth, too fast for me to react. Or maybe it was his words that made me slow.

“I’m never going to get that image out of my head,” he said. “When he was on the stairs and had you in his arms, and I thought that was it. Like everything else, my father had succeeded in taking you away, and something in me—I don’t know—broke.”

I clasped my hand around his wrist, giving us yet another place where we were connected, wanting to show him his fear wasn’t true. I’d never been or would be Macalister’s.

“Before, I wanted to destroy him,” he admitted. “Not just him, but everything he has too. Take away his money, and his power, and his company—”

I finished the thought for him. “Everything he cares about.”

“Yes. And in that moment, where I thought you were his, it meant I’d have to go after you too, and I . . .” He searched for the right words. “I told you I wanted to take over my family’s company so badly, I wasn’t capable of caring about anything else. But, Marist, last night showed me I was fucking wrong.”

I was short of breath, but he was too, like this confession was taking everything out of him. It was how I knew it was true. He lied with ease. Only the truth was difficult for him.

“The way I feel about you wasn’t part of the plan. I’ve spent so long like this, not allowing myself to care, I wasn’t sure I was even capable anymore. Honestly, in the beginning, it didn’t matter who got hurt, just as long as it wasn’t me, and I got what I wanted.”

He’d told me this the night of our first date. “Because it’s win at all costs.”

“Yeah. I mean, it was.” His relentless stare held me tight. “Until you changed the game on me. All I’ve ever wanted was to run HBHC. Every decision I’ve made has been toward that outcome, all until you came along with your green hair and your mythology book, and that little gasp you made when I had you pushed against that bookcase. I heard that goddamn moan in my head for weeks after that night.”

Heat rushed through me and clenched my body so tightly I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move.

“I want HBHC,” he said, “but now I’m wondering if I want you even more.”

He’d kept me walled off for so long, it felt like he’d just thrown open every floodgate, and it swept me away. “I think I need to lie down.”

“You’re already lying down.” A smirk flashed on his lips before he turned serious again. “I think I can get to the place where I can say it back, when we’re alone and you tell me you love me, but I’m not there yet.” Determination flickered in his eyes. “I don’t want to say those words until I know they’re absolutely true.”

I stared at him. “I know I’m on drugs, but are you too? I thought Royce Hale didn’t talk about his feelings.”

His smile was pained. “He does after he thought his fiancée might die and he didn’t tell her any of the shit he should have.” When he released me and rested his hands on the bedrail, my skin mourned the loss of his touch. His hands were spread wide, making his shoulders high and tight, while his head stayed tipped down toward me. “If you don’t want to say it anymore until I do, I get it.”

I ached for him and his banker’s heart. He thought of love like a transaction, like a currency. A thing that shouldn’t be given away without receiving something in return.

I softened my voice. “I'm not going to withhold how I feel just because you aren’t ready to say it back. I love you, Royce. If it helps, I tried really hard not to.”

He’d been so desperate to hear those words from me, and they landed with such an impact. The smile that broke on his lips caused a flutter in my chest.

“It does help. Thanks,” he teased.

I lifted an eyebrow. “You didn’t always make it easy either.”

The glow in his eyes faded as he sobered. “No. I know I didn’t.”

Among other things, he’d sold me to his father for one hundred thousand shares.

Royce straightened and took in a deep breath. “I owe you an explanation, but it’s a much longer conversation than I think we should have tonight. Can we wait until both of us have gotten more than an hour’s worth of sleep?”

My pulse jumped. “You’re going to tell me what you’re planning?”

“Yes, Marist.” Conviction spread across his handsome face. “I’ll tell you everything.”

It came out breathlessly excited. “Okay.”

As he leaned back in to give me a final kiss, I hated Alice a little less. Sure, she’d poisoned me and left me for dead, but she’d also set off a chain of events that had given me almost everything I wanted.

I was out from under Macalister’s grip. My choices were my own again, and he’d been forced to retreat.

And Royce was finally letting me in, both on his feelings and his plan.

All that was left now was to take his heart and make it mine. He wasn’t sure if he loved me? I was going to make that happen. As his lips captured mine, it sealed his fate.

Look out, Royce. I’m coming for you.