Billy & The Beast (Ever After, New York #3) - Eli Easton Page 0,70

me, this was all about him. What a narcissist.

And then it struck me what he’d said: When you woke up in the hospital and didn’t remember.

“Oh God. You killed my father,” I wobbled, my head going light. I had to put a hand on the back of the chair to steady myself.

Emmanuel huffed in irritation. “I did not. I tried and tried to convince him that the deal with Shar McGill should go through. I warned him it was too late to back out, that you didn’t jerk around people like that. But he refused to listen to me. Oh, no. He was so damn self-righteous!”

I shook my head, trying to catch up. “Are you saying Shar McGill had him killed?”

“Yes!”

“But . . . why didn’t you go to the police? Hell, you’re still doing business with them. You’re about to close that deal!”

Emmanuel’s frown deepened. “Look, they’re not nice people. All right? And maybe I didn’t understand what we were getting into at first. But now here we are, and there’s no use crying over spilt milk, not when we stand to make billions! You, Seb, you alone stand to make nearly a billion yourself thanks to your father’s stock. If only you’d stayed quiet. That’s all you had to do, Seb. Just keep your head down, stay out of the way, leave Montgomery Enterprises and Shar McGill alone. But that kid. He just had to dig into the accident. He’s still digging! Sooner or later, he would have . . .” He trailed off, his mouth pressed tight.

“Would have what?” I said faintly. “Something about the accident? What else aren’t you telling me?”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now. Everything I did, I did to try to save your life, to keep you sheltered here where it was safe. But you’re just like your father. You couldn’t leave well enough alone!” Emmanuel’s voice had risen until he was nearly screaming, spittle flying as he shouted.

And suddenly, I had a flash of memory.

You couldn’t leave well enough alone!

Emmanuel shouting at me, those same words. Only it wasn’t here. It had been . . .

The night of the accident. At Emmanuel’s house, in his study. Oh God. I’d gone there to confront him about my suspicions about Father’s death.

I had another flash—me driving down that mountain, so drugged up I could barely see, filled with panic, the brakes on the car not working, trying to steer around the curves as the car careened faster and faster. I remembered thinking. He drugged me. He’s trying to kill me. I was so naive to go there.

My knees went weak. I slumped into the chair. Emmanuel was not only capable of killing me, he’d already tried once.

I had to think fast. “All right. All right. I won’t tell anyone. We can forget this ever happened. I’ll go on living here at Malfleur just as before.”

He shook his head. “Do you think I could sleep at night, knowing you’re holding this over me?”

“But you didn’t kill my father, Shar McGill did.”

Even though you must have shown them where to find him on his morning jog, you bastard. I forced a smile. “They’re bad actors. We know this. But, like you said, it’s too late to break ties with them now. So we might as well make a lot of money. Right?”

He narrowed his eyes at me.

“Hell, I don’t even need a full billion. Half of that would do. I’ll transfer part of my father’s stock to you, say it’s a bonus for having brought in the deal.”

I could see him working it over in his mind, whether or not he could trust me.

“I’m sick of Malfleur though,” I went on. “I’ve always wanted to live in Paris. I could move there, get a flat. Spend my time in Europe. Change my name. It’s not like I’m easy to recognize now.” I waved a hand at my face. I was making this up as I went along, but I had to make it sound believable.

He was wavering. His expression grew conflicted and he lowered the gun. “You’d be willing to sign a contract to that effect? That you’d leave the US and never speak about me or Montgomery Enterprises?”

“Absolutely. As long as I have enough to party in comfort for the rest of my days, I’m good.” Maybe I could convince him I was still the fool I used to be.

He licked his lips. “What about your scars? Are you trying to tell me