Chapter 2 - The Price of a Bride
“You know what?”
I followed Gideon into his office without changing out of the gown.
He stopped behind his desk.
“Enough to tell you not to marry him.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“No.”
“Then give me one.”
For five years, I had watched Gideon Ferris intimidate investors, attorneys, contractors, politicians and men whose occupations were never discussed in daylight.
I had never seen him hesitate.
He hesitated then.
“Your brother didn’t owe Alister $280,000.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“What?”
“Kyle owed approximately $91,000 when Pemberton entered the picture.”
I laughed once.
It sounded terrible.
“You’re wrong.”
“I wish I were.”
“He showed me the documents.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Because I’ve spent four months investigating him.”
That hurt almost as much as the accusation itself.
“Four months?”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“I didn’t have enough proof.”
“You apparently had enough proof to investigate my fiancé behind my back.”
His expression hardened.
“I had enough reason.”
I stared at him.
“What reason?”
Gideon walked to his desk and removed a thin black folder from the bottom drawer.
He placed it between us.
Inside were corporate filings, bank transfers, email records and copies of documents carrying Kyle’s signature.
I recognized some of them.
Others I had never seen.
One page showed the original obligations attached to Kyle’s company.
$91,840.
Another showed a debt acquisition through an LLC called Haverford Strategic Holdings.
Then fees.
Penalties.
Consulting expenses.
Legal costs.
The amount had climbed until it reached $280,000.
Haverford was controlled through two shell companies.
The final beneficiary was a Pemberton family trust.
I looked up.
“No.”
“I checked it three times.”
“No.”
“Emery—”
“He helped Kyle.”
“He bought Kyle’s debt.”
The words landed differently.
Gideon continued.
“Then he inflated it.”
I gripped the edge of the desk.
“He told me investors were going to sue Kyle.”
“They probably would have. But Alister purchased their positions before they could. He didn’t rescue your brother from the debt, Emery. He acquired it.”
“Why?”
Gideon’s eyes held mine.
“You.”
The office became completely silent.
I wanted to reject it.
Instead, memories began rearranging themselves.
Alister appearing at the exact moment Kyle was desperate.
Alister knowing where I worked.
Alister mentioning my schedule before I remembered telling him.
His immediate interest in my leaving Ferris Group after marriage.
The clubs I should join.
The people I should meet.
The things I should stop doing.
“What does he want with me?”
“That’s the part I haven’t proved.”
“You just said he wanted me.”
“He wanted access to you.”
A colder distinction.
Gideon pulled another document from the folder.
“Ferris Group is bidding on the North Atlantic Biomedical Logistics contract.”
“I know.”
It was worth nearly $1.8 billion over twelve years.
“You’re one of four people who has access to the final bid structure.”
I looked at him.
“Alister’s largest campaign donor owns Calder Biomedical Logistics.”
My stomach dropped.
Calder was our primary competitor.
“No.”
“That’s why I didn’t tell you sooner. I needed to know whether I was looking at coincidence, corporate espionage or something worse.”
“And now?”
“Now I know it’s worse.”
I slowly lowered myself into the chair opposite him.
The midnight-blue silk pooled around my legs.
For the first time, I hated the gown.
“What happened?”
“Yesterday, someone attempted to access the secure bid archive using your credentials.”
I stared at him.
“I wasn’t here yesterday afternoon.”
“I know.”
“Then how—”
“Your credentials were cloned.”
My mind immediately moved through possibilities.
Laptop.
Phone.
Keycard.
Home office.
Alister’s house.
His driver.
His staff.
Then I remembered.
Three weeks earlier, Alister had borrowed my work phone during dinner because his battery had died.
For five minutes.
Maybe six.
Gideon watched the realization reach me.
“He had my phone.”
“I know.”
“How could you possibly know that?”
“Restaurant cameras.”
“You pulled surveillance footage from my dinner?”
“I asked the restaurant owner.”
“Asked?”
His eyebrow moved slightly.
“Strongly.”
Despite everything, a tiny, hysterical laugh escaped me.
Then I started crying.
I hated that.
I turned away.
Gideon did not touch me.
That somehow made it easier.
He simply stood beside the window and waited until I could breathe again.
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Nothing different.”
I looked up sharply.
“You want me to pretend?”
“I want Alister to believe we know nothing.”
“And Saturday?”
“You go to the gala.”
“You told me not to.”
“I was speaking as a man.”
Something inside me stopped.
Gideon’s face changed almost imperceptibly.
“As the man responsible for keeping you alive,” he continued, “I’m telling you to go.”
The distinction did not escape either of us.
I stood.
“Alive?”
He had said the word too casually.
“Gideon.”
His gaze shifted.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
A phone rang.
Not his desk phone.
The black phone inside his locked drawer.
In five years, I had heard it ring twice.
Gideon opened the drawer.
“Ferris.”
He listened.
His entire body changed.
“When?”
Another pause.
“Is he alive?”
My heart accelerated.
Gideon looked directly at me.
“Where?”
He ended the call.
“Get changed.”
“What happened?”
“Kyle’s car went off the road outside Worcester forty minutes ago.”
My knees almost gave out.
“What?”
“He’s alive.”
I grabbed the desk.
“Was it an accident?”
Gideon said nothing.
That was answer enough.
I started toward the conference room.
He caught my wrist.
Not hard.
Just enough to stop me.
His fingers against my skin were warm.
“Emery.”
I looked at him.
“You do exactly what I tell you until we understand what this is.”
“My brother—”
“Will have the best doctors in Massachusetts.”
“How can you promise that?”
His eyes became very cold.
“Because the hospital belongs to me.”
I stared at him.
Then Gideon looked down at the midnight-blue gown Alister had bought for me.
May you like
His voice dropped.
“And because if Pemberton touched your brother, the Senate will be the least of his problems.”
