Chapter 8 - The Choice Thomas Never Understood
I ran before anyone could stop me.
"Mariana!"
Grant's voice echoed behind me.
I didn't care.
Leo was somewhere inside the building.
I took the service stairs.
Forty-two floors.
Impossible.
Then I remembered the freight elevator.
The doors opened.
Julian stood inside.
"Get in."
I froze.
"Trust me once."
I did.
The elevator descended.
"Thomas has a private exit through the parking structure," Julian said. "He showed me when I was seventeen."
"Where's Leo?"
"Probably thirty-eight. Executive apartment."
"Probably?"
Julian looked at me.
"My father likes leverage close enough to hear."
The elevator stopped.
I ran.
Grant followed through another corridor with Ortiz.
Thomas had separated Isabel from himself during the confusion.
Security recovered her on forty.
That meant Thomas only had Leo.
I found the executive apartment.
Locked.
Julian entered a code.
The door opened.
Leo was inside a crib.
Alone.
Crying.
I rushed toward him.
"Wait!" Grant shouted.
I stopped.
A thin wire ran beneath the crib.
Not explosives.
An alarm.
Julian examined it.
"Door trigger."
He disconnected it.
I grabbed Leo.
The second I held him, the building fire alarm began.
Thomas was escaping.
Grant looked toward the stairwell.
Then toward me.
I knew that look.
"Go."
"Mariana—"
"Go finish it."
Grant hesitated.
I stepped closer.
"Leo and I are safe."
His eyes searched mine.
Then he touched my cheek.
One brief movement.
More intimate than a kiss.
"I'll come back."
"You'd better."
He left.
Thomas reached the underground garage.
Police blocked the main exits.
So he took the old maintenance tunnel connecting Sterling Meridian's tower to an adjacent parking structure.
Grant followed.
So did Julian.
Later, Grant told me what happened.
Thomas reached his car.
Julian stood between him and the driver's door.
"Move," Thomas ordered.
"No."
Thomas laughed.
"Still trying to impress your uncle?"
"I'm trying to stop becoming you."
Thomas raised his gun.
Grant arrived.
"Thomas."
His brother turned.
Grant stood twenty feet away, leaning on his cane.
Thomas smiled.
"You always did need to be the hero."
"No."
Grant looked at Julian.
"I spent my whole life thinking I could fix everyone."
Then back at Thomas.
"I can't."
Sirens approached.
Thomas's gun remained raised.
Grant said quietly, "It's over."
Thomas fired.
Julian shoved Grant aside.
The bullet struck Julian in the shoulder.
Police returned fire.
Thomas dropped his weapon.
He survived.
That mattered to Grant.
Not because he forgave him.
Because Thomas Sterling would stand trial.
He would hear Evelyn's name spoken in court.
He would watch his empire of secrets become evidence.
He would live long enough to understand that the family he controlled had finally chosen each other over him.
Barragan was arrested.
Thomas was charged with conspiracy, attempted murder, financial crimes, kidnapping and offenses connected to Evelyn's death.
Julian accepted responsibility for his role in Grant's poisoning.
He pleaded guilty to multiple charges and agreed to testify.
When I saw him in the hospital, his shoulder bandaged, I didn't know what to say.
He looked at Leo.
"I'm sorry."
I said nothing.
He swallowed.
"What I said about him... that first morning."
I remembered.
You and that bastard can find somewhere else to live.
"You don't get to erase it," I said.
"I know."
"And helping us doesn't erase what you did to Grant."
"I know."
I looked at him.
"But it matters what you do next."
Julian nodded.
It wasn't forgiveness.
But maybe it was somewhere to begin.
Grant spent three weeks in rehabilitation.
I visited every day.
At first because I told myself he needed help.
Then because I stopped lying to myself.
I wanted to see him.
Leo did too.
The nurses discovered that Grant would do almost anything if Leo was involved.
"Three more steps," his therapist said one afternoon.
"No."
I held Leo at the other end of the rehabilitation bars.
Grant glared at me.
"That's manipulation."
"Three steps."
"Mariana."
Leo squealed.
Grant sighed.
Then took four.
By week two, he could walk without assistance for short distances.
By week three, he carried Leo across the room.
I cried.
Grant pretended not to notice.
That evening we sat outside the clinic.
"You know," he said, "I've been thinking."
"Dangerous."
"I need a new caregiver."
I stared at him.
"You can walk."
"Emotionally fragile."
"Tragic."
"Very."
I laughed.
Then his expression softened.
"I don't want you working for me."
My smile disappeared.
"Oh."
"I said that badly."
"Extremely."
Grant turned toward me.
"I don't want there to be a paycheck between us."
My heart began pounding.
"Grant—"
"I don't know how to do this."
"Do what?"
He looked terrified.
This man had faced an armed murderer more calmly.
"Ask you to stay because I want you here."
I didn't answer immediately.
Grant's hand found mine.
"I know you have a child. I know your life isn't simple. I know mine is a disaster."
"That's an understatement."
"I also know I wake up every morning wondering whether you and Leo are coming."
His thumb moved over my fingers.
"And on the days you do, the room feels different."
I looked at him.
"You're recovering."
"I know."
"You're vulnerable."
"I know."
"I won't become something you think you owe me."
His face hardened.
"I don't owe you love."
The word hung between us.
Neither of us moved.
Grant exhaled.
"I probably should've approached that more gracefully."
"Probably."
"Can I try again?"
I smiled through tears.
"No."
His face fell.
I leaned forward and kissed him.
It was gentle.
Brief.
Real.
When I pulled away, Grant looked stunned.
"Mariana?"
"That was your second attempt."
He smiled.
Then my phone rang.
Detective Ortiz.
I answered.
Her first sentence erased my smile.
"Mariana, we found something in Thomas's files."
"What?"
"A file on Leo's father."
I went still.
"What about him?"
May you like
Ortiz paused.
"Thomas knew who he was."
