to get Jersey to forgive us all enough to say yes to the life Truck was trying to make for them. I’d had a broken wrist and nose, but it had been my heart that had hurt the worst. Not only because I’d almost cost Jersey her first bit of real happiness, but because I’d almost killed Dawson in my stupidity.
Here I was, five years later, doing more risky things. But this wasn’t stupid. This was important. This was for Jada.
I rang the doorbell, and the door opened moments later by the same housekeeper that had been here all those years ago. She was older but had the same emotionless face.
“Hi. I’m here to see Jada.”
Her eyes flicked down the hallway. “She isn’t feeling well. She isn’t receiving visitors.”
“Oh, but she just texted me to come and get her. She needs to review the products I’m testing for our new business,” I said, stepping forward. I’d push my way in if I had to.
The door opened wider to reveal Jada’s dad, whom I’d only met a couple of times before. He was tall and somber with black hair graying at the temples and pale skin that was only slightly wrinkled. He exuded an unseen sense of power greater than the one I’d felt rolling off of Ken’Ichi’s, and whereas Ken’Ichi’s temper seemed to boil under a calm veneer, Tsuyoshi Mori’s temper seemed nonexistent.
“Miss Banner, a pleasure. Why don’t you come in?” he said before turning to the housekeeper. “Tell Jada her guest is here. We’ll be in my study.”
My nerves jangled, and sweat beaded over my body.
I’d wanted to go to Jada’s room, pack a bag, and be gone before we ran into anyone else. I guess I should have known that wouldn’t be the case.
I followed her dad through the house, past one set of enormously elaborate double doors that led to the huge living room and through another set that led into a dark room with Samurai swords on the walls. He sank into a leather chair behind a mammoth black desk and motioned for me to sit across from him.
“Jada tells me so little these days. Tell me more about this business.”
I swallowed, keeping to the simple story backed by the business documents the FBI had created over the last hour.
“Force de la Violette is a skincare and makeup line with an exclusive, natural antimicrobial I’ve created to extend shelf life by up to a year,” I told him, tucking my hands into my pockets in an effort to not show my nerves by playing with ends of my braid.
His hands were folded on his desk.
“You have this antimicrobial ready to market?” he asked.
I nodded. It wasn’t ready. I hadn’t even finished the testing. Plus, there was nanoparticle work to be done. It was a long way away from being a reality, but he didn’t need to know that. Instead, I harnessed my sincere excitement about my experiment and products to ensure he believed me. I talked to him about the bacteria-resistant qualities of the organic preservative as well as the health benefits of the products we planned on making.
“And Jada has invested in this with you?” he asked.
Nolan and a man named Malone, who’d talked me through everything on the phone, had said they had access to Jada’s accounts and were creating a money trail as fast as they could. It would take several hours, but if it was prodded gently, it would hold up at the moment. A deeper probe would show the flaws until they’d backdoored it more. My entire conversation with the man had been full of so many spy novel-ish terms I’d almost thought I was still sleeping.
“Yes.” I nodded.
Jada appeared in the doorway. Her eyes were red and her face blotchy. She looked like she’d been crying for twenty-four hours straight. I wanted to hug her. I wanted to tuck her under my arm and run screaming from the house, but instead, I smiled.
“Baioretto,” Jada said, coming forward. She was in torn black jeans, a black top that slid off her shoulders, and purple, stiletto-heeled boots. Stilettos and Jada were almost synonymous. She looked flawless, except for the tears behind her makeup.
“Hey, I can’t believe you didn’t tell your dad about our company,” I said, pretending to be shocked, but it was also a warning that we’d been talking about it.
Jada didn’t show one ounce of surprise. “I told you I had a plan,” she said, looking at her dad. “I