Rich (Benson Security #5) - Janet Elizabeth Henderson Page 0,113

rest of the family, that’s why I remember. We didn’t miss a weekend.”

Adrenaline coursed through Harvard as alarm bells sounded in his mind. “Could your sister have taken your phone and used it?”

Bleak eyes met his. “Yes,” Rupert whispered.

Harvard shot from the chair and was out of the door in a few long strides, the sound of Rupert’s sobs reverberating through the room behind him. Lake and Callum were waiting on the other side of the door.

“Rachel’s alone with Samantha in her apartment,” he said, fighting to keep calm. To think clearly.

“Call her,” Callum barked.

His phone was already in his hand. He lifted it to his ear and waited as it rang to voice mail. A sense of dread filling him, he changed tactics and sent a text. It felt as though time was suspended as they waited for a reply. Rachel always replied. That damn phone of hers barely left her hand.

At last, he looked up at the men he’d grown to respect. The men who cared for Rachel almost as much as he did. “There’s no reply.”

And then they were running.

“You?” Rachel gasped as the room spun around her. “You took the video? You were there?” She clutched the arm of her chair, silently begging for it not to be true.

Samantha waved a dismissive hand and strode over to the bar in the corner of the room, where she casually poured herself another glass of champagne. “I knew it had to be something dramatic to get you to leave TayFor, just asking you to go wouldn’t do it. Nor would some embarrassing photos of you out partying. And I couldn’t think of anything else that would do the job.” She turned to lean against the bar. “I had hoped to find that you’d been dipping into the company drug stock, but you didn’t even dabble. You are such a goody two shoes.”

“That smell. Patchouli.” Rachel shook her head, trying to clear it. “I thought it was incense, but it was your perfume. I remember now.”

“You were very rude about my taste in perfume back then. You said I smelled like a hippie. That was why I doused myself in it for our little party.”

Thick, clawing fog filled Rachel’s head, making it hard to think. “The men?” She could barely get the words out. Nothing made sense. Nothing.

“Were happy to help—for a price that would set them up for life. You cost them their jobs. And unlike everyone else around you, they weren’t keen to forgive your behavior.”

“And Terrance?”

“I suspected you might have found out about him.” Her cousin sipped her champagne. “It was a tad telling when he didn’t turn up for work. I suppose we can thank your security contacts for rooting him out. I have to say, Rachel, they were a very annoying addition to our game.”

“This isn’t a game.”

“It is for me. I got tired of you winning and decided to change the rules. And it worked perfectly for over a decade—until you turned up again. Why couldn’t you just stay away? Why did you have to come back and make everyone start comparing us again? Without you around, people could see that I was more than a match for anything you could do. I’m more talented, more attractive, more pleasant to be around. But for some reason, as soon as you enter my orbit, you draw all the attention. Why is that?”

“Maybe because they sense I’m the sane one?”

Samantha’s laugh was ice. “I don’t know why everyone’s so willing to forgive you for being such a bitch.”

“I’m the bitch? I don’t arrange for people to be raped. Or drug them.” She stilled. “You’ve done it again, haven’t you? Put something in my drink.”

“Of course. How else would I get what I want?”

Rachel looked around as fear made bile surge in her throat.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Sam said. “I haven’t paid any men to play with you this time.”

Ringing sounded from Rachel’s handbag on the table beside her. She tried to reach for it, but her limbs wouldn’t cooperate. The ringing stopped, and the phone pinged, letting her know a text had come through.

“I expect that’s your hunky fiancé.” Sam put her glass on the bar. “What does he see in you?”

“Sanity?”

“Typical, even drugged out of your mind, you have to have the last catty word.” She strode toward Rachel, put her hands under her arms, and tugged her to her feet. “I am really sorry about this. When you weren’t busy trying to show the