Descent (Steel Brothers Saga #15) - Helen Hardt Page 0,61
up my esophagus. “What detail?”
“I have documentation.”
“This is getting tedious. What documentation?”
“Documentation that links you with Fleming Corporation.”
“Then it’s counterfeit. Completely false.”
“Of course it is. But it’ll hold up in any court. I’ve seen to that.”
“You little bitch.”
“I’d show it to you, but you already know I never lie when it comes to something this important to me. I’m going to have your child, Brad. Because if I don’t, your life will be ruined. Not only your life, but your precious Daphne’s and those two pretty little boys of yours.”
My trip to the Broadmoor with Daphne had been an oasis in a hot, raging desert storm.
Now I was back.
It was funny, that feeling of having everything your heart desired but having other things in your life that spoiled it.
That was my life. Had been my life for a while now.
I stared at the file folder lying on my desk in front of me. It had been delivered while Daphne and I were away and was waiting for me at my business office when I got in this afternoon.
Whoever had sent it had known better than to send it to my home.
I laughed aloud.
Whoever had sent it. Right. I knew damned well who had sent it. It had a Washington, DC, postmark. Wendy was currently in DC working on an assignment. Coincidence?
Not likely.
I opened the file.
Only one page of crisp white paper.
Only three lines.
I know.
You betrayed me.
You will pay the ultimate price.
Then my phone rang.
I didn’t even have to guess who it was.
“Hello, Wendy,” I said into the receiver.
“Five million dollars,” she said, her voice icy.
“What?”
“Five million dollars. Transfer it to me immediately.”
“Or what?”
“You know what.”
Right. Her trump card. Her fail-safe. If anything happened to her, she had documents tying me to the Fleming Corporation. To the heinous things they were involved in.
You will pay the ultimate price.
Did she truly think five million dollars meant anything to me?
“Not until you tell me exactly what it is you think you know.”
“Don’t be so obtuse, Brad. You’ve been fucking her all along, haven’t you?”
I loved Daphne too much to deny it.
“Yes. She’s my wife. Don’t you think she’d think it odd if I stopped sleeping with her?”
“You made me a promise years ago, when you gave me your child. I entrusted him to you. Let you give him to her to raise. I made a deal with you, and you welched on your end.”
“Wendy, I—”
“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
“It wasn’t planned.”
She scoffed. “Of course it wasn’t. If she got pregnant, you knew I’d know you were still fucking her.”
“Does it even matter? I’m willing to pay your ultimate price. We’ll both get what we want.”
“I assure you, Brad, you’re not getting what you want.”
I didn’t respond. Fine. Let her think five million dollars was my ultimate price. What did it matter? I’d gladly pay her off.
“Where should I have it wired?”
She gave me an account number.
“Consider it done.”
“Good.”
“We’re even, then? You won’t insist that I have Daphne abort the pregnancy?” Not that I had any intention of doing that.
“What good would that do? You already broke your promise to me. You slept with her. The child isn’t at fault.”
I heaved a sigh of relief. Her statement made it clear she drew the line at hurting one of my children.
Thank God.
If only I could be sure about Daphne.
Wendy loved hurting me. Making me pay. Daphne was my biggest Achilles’ heel.
Taking out Murph and Patty had hurt not just me, but Daphne as well. Wendy was capable of anything.
At least my children were safe.
I could sleep a little better knowing that.
Chapter Forty-Two
Daphne
Luke Walker, a small and awkward boy with an unsightly overbite, sat quietly on the lawn while Talon and Ryan romped with the dogs. Evelyn, Vicki, and I sat on the deck with sparkling water, cheese, and crackers.
I ate only the crackers. Nausea was bad today.
Talon and Ryan were good little hosts and tried to include Luke, but he resisted joining in their fun.
“He’s not really my friend, Mom,” Talon had said to me when I broached the subject of inviting Luke over to play.
“This is how you make new friends,” I’d said.
He’d rolled his eyes and said, “He’s kind of weird.”
The little boy wasn’t weird. He was shy and the victim of bullying. I’d thought my sons could bring him out of his shell, but he wasn’t responding.
“Do you think he’d like to ride one of our horses?” I asked Vicki.
“No. Horses scare him,” she said. “We have one on our