: Chapter 28
Kissing the Boss
I stared at Hayden, unable to react. Unable to process. While it felt as if a swarm of bees began stinging every inch of my flesh and my stomach plummeted into my knees, my gaze couldnât seem to leave my oldest stepbrother. He looked so sure, so tormented by his claim. The man truly, honestly believed what he was saying.
But could I?
Next to me, Brick gushed out all the responses I couldnât seem to summon. Letting out a harsh laugh, he flopped back noisily in his seat and ran both hands through his hair. âJesus, I know we joke about that shit all the time, but fuck, bro. This isnât funny.â
âNo, itâs not,â Hayden agreed, tearing his gaze from me to focus on Brick. âNot at all. But itâs true. I found proof. Irrefutable evidence.â
âHow?â Ezra was the one to ask.
I looked his way, but again, he was too busy dissecting Hayden with a hard stare to notice me.
âIt started a few weeks ago,â Hayden began. âFrom something Bruno said.â
Shaking his head, Ezra squinted. âExplain.â
Hayden bowed his face once, obliging. âBruno came into my office to collect the trash, chattering away about all sorts of things as usual, until out of the blue he said, âI thought that old lawyer of Arthurâs had passed away.ââ
I shook my head, confused, wondering why Uncle Finley was being mentioned. âHe did,â I answered. âHe died not long after my dadâs funeral.â
Hayden lifted a finger. âSee. Thatâs what I thought too. But Bruno seemed sure heâd heard Lana talking on the phone in her office with him because she referred to the person on the other end of the line as Fin Tin.â
I gasped. Fin Tin was the nickname my father had always affectionately called his lawyer, who, just like Bruno, had basically been like an uncle to me.
Fin Tin was not a common name.
âI never believed Arthurâs last will and testament,â Hayden went on, shaking his head, as he glanced my way. âYou were his pride and joy. Compared to what he had, there was just no way he left you so little.â
Brick began to nod. âTrue,â he agreed. âThat was weird.â
âBut then we received news of Finleyâs death, and I wasnât sure how to probe the issue until Bruno brought it up. So I did a little digging, this time into Finley himself, until I finally found him.â
My eyes bugged. âAlive?â
âLiving in Mexico,â Hayden confirmed. âA millionaire.â
I wasnât sure how to digest that. My gaze fell across the table without meaning to, and it latched onto Ezra, where he sat with his hands pressed together and set against his mouth. I couldnât tell what he was thinking, his expression was completely unreadable, so I turned back to Hayden.
âOh my God. Whatâ¦? Howâ¦?â
Haydenâs stare went solemn. âI started to wonder if Lana had paid him off to alter Arthurâs will. I searched her office, in the hopes of finding his original will, or some kind of clue or proof that sheâd changed it.â
So thatâs why heâd been ransacking her office the night of the Halloween party. It was all starting to make sense now. Horrible, distressing sense.
âBut I had no luck there,â he went on. âI went through her condo next. And with a little help from a friend, we hit the jackpot. Not only did we find the original will, but I swear she kept a little treasure trove holding all her sins: proof sheâd hired people to murder my father, and take care of the Myrtles, and make Arthurâs death look like natural causes. It was like a serial killerâs brag box or some such sick shit.â
With a shudder, I covered my mouth with both hands and stared sightlessly at the top of the conference room table. A supportive arm wrapped around my shoulders, and I leaned into Brick before clutching his arm, unable to believe this was happening.
Lana had killed my father. She paid someone to take his life.
My father.
Sheâd taken him away from me.
My vision swum. Brick tugged me even closer until he was straight-up hugging me. I squeezed my eyes closed, pretending this wasnât happening.
âYour dad left the company to you, Kaitlynn.â Haydenâs soft voice jolted through me until my eyes sprang open. âAll of it,â he confirmed.
He held up his hand to show me a thick, folded batch of papers within his grip. My fatherâs will.
âHe didnât leave any of it to Lana. He mustâve known all along she couldnât be trusted, because he specifically mentioned she get nothing. My guess is she learned about that little detail and had Fin Tin alter his will so she could take whatever she wanted. She allotted you only enough to keep the fake from looking too suspicious, but she even dipped into the money he originally left Brick and me so weâd get less than what he intended, as well.â
âBitch,â Brick growled under his breath.
âThen,â Hayden added, âwhen Arthur turned up dead, Iâm guessing Fin Tin realized Lana was behind it, and took off with whatever sheâd paid him before she could take him out too. When the police found him, he spilled everything. He had contacted her that day Bruno overheard them because heâd grown brave during his years in Mexico, and he wanted to blackmail her: more money for his continued silence.â
I could only shake my head numbly and stare at Hayden before whispering, âHe left the company to me?â When I straightened, Brick let go of me so I could face the facts slamming into me from what felt like all sides.
But the fact was, my dad had loved me all along.
I had been so hurt and secretly upset with him, and the entire time, heâd left JFI in my hands. Heâd never stopped loving me. Heâd never turned his back on me. Heâd remained my dad. Always.
Shame filled me for ever doubting his affection. I had to be the worst daughter ever.
âThat doesnât mean itâs all her company now,â Henry Nash spoke up, jostling me from my guilt.
âDad,â Ezra hissed, waving him quiet, but Henry shook his head before turning to my lawyers. âNash Corporation purchased half of Judge Fashions Industry, fair and square. It was a legal, binding agreement we sunk fifty million dollars into. Half of it is still ours.â
âBut you purchased it from Lana Judge, who had no legal right to sell it,â Richard stated firmly.
âI donât fucking care,â Henry roared. âMy son loves this place. Heâs put all his time and energyâhis goddamn soulâinto restoring it this past year, pulling it from the brink of bankruptcy. It would be nothing now if not for him. Heâs not losing it.â
I glanced toward Ezra, only to find him with his eyes squeezed closed and teeth gritted as if in pain.
I knew his father spoke the truth. He loved working here. Part of his blood, sweat, and toil did and would forever more reside within these walls. He didnât want to lose it any more than I did. I didnât think I really wanted him to lose it, either.
Butâ¦
Agony coiled through my stomach.
âFine,â his father blustered, turning to me directly. âSo you own at least half of it now. Name your price, girl. Weâll pay whatever you offer.â
Ezraâs eyes shot open, waiting for my answer. But how could he expect me to say anything other than no deal? He knew how much I wanted my company back, too.
It felt like I was staring at a stranger when I looked into his blue eyes. Add that onto the fact that heâd never bothered to tell his father about me, and Iâd just found out what I had about my own dadâ
He hadnât had a heart attack at all. Heâd been killed, stolen from me so that I was left alone, an orphan under the control of his very murderer.
It was more than I could bear. Grief and anger and helplessness swamped me.
âI canât deal with this right now,â I said, fumbling out of my chair to get to my feet before I stumbled toward the exit.
âKaitlynn.â Ezra flew from his own seat and took a step toward me, but I held up a hand and shook my head, warding him away.
I couldnât deal with him right now either.
I raced into the hall.
It felt as if people were everywhere, clumped into groups, no doubt gossiping about the fact that one of their CEOs had just been dragged away in the back of a police car. They all paused to stare at me, judging, questioning, condemning, demanding. Unable to take all the gawking, I began to run. Blindly.
I found myself back in my old workroom in the basement, sitting in the hard, uncomfortable chair Iâd used for six months and wishing I could just go back to then, when I was naïvely determined to work my way to the top, where no one had killed my dad, and my stepmother just despised me instead of hated me so much she wanted me dead.
Hugging myself, I squeezed my eyes closed and bit my lip. But the tears came anyway.
âHey, kid,â a quiet, concerned voice crooned. âYou doing okay?â
I shook my head and sobbed, âNo.â
âYeah, I didnât figure.â Picking me up, Brick stole my chair so he could settle me on his lap like a small child and hug me to his chest.
I rested my cheek against his shoulder and soaked in all the sympathy he was offering.
âHe left the company to me,â I repeated, my chest hollow with shock. âHe loved me after all.â
âOf course he did.â Brick stroked my hair methodically. âHow could you doubt that?â
I shook my head. âI thought sheâd turned him against me. I thought he stopped loving me. I thought⦠I thoughtâ¦â
When a sob seized me, Brick murmured quiet, soothing sounds. âShh. Itâs okay. Itâs going to be okay.â
But how could this be okay? My dad had been murdered, and all this time Iâd been angry with him.
âHe must be so disappointed in me,â I whispered. âI doubted him and lost faith in him. He must be watching me from wherever he is, and thinkingââ
âBullshit,â Brick cut in. âHeâs looking down at you, and heâs smiling because heâs so fucking proud of the woman you became. And heâs loving you⦠Always.â
I sniffed and looked up at him. âI canât believe she took him away.â
Pain shuttered his features. âNeither can I.â
Suddenly, I remembered. âShe took your dad too.â
He glanced away, and his throat worked as he swallowed. âYeah,â he choked out in a raw voice. âCrazy, huh?â
I touched his cheek. âAre you okay?â
After a quick bitter laugh, he said, âFuck no. This shit is messed all the hell up. I mean, I knew she wasnât right in the head. She could never be trusted. Sheâd never been warm and nurturing, but Jesus Christ, she was still my mom. I never expected⦠This.â
âIâm sorry.â
When he closed his eyes and leaned into my hand, I kissed his cheek. âIâll make sure you get every penny my dad promised you in his will.â
His eyes shot open and he scowled. âThat is the very last thing on my mind right now.â
I shrugged. âBut itâs easier for me to think about that than⦠Everything else.â
âTrue.â Clearing his throat, he glanced around the dingy workroom that had become significantly dustier since Iâd stopped working here. âWhy the hell did you come down here, anyway?â
I shrugged. Good question. âIt was familiar,â I said. And Iâd needed something familiar.
The door opened. Hayden poked his head inside. âThere you two are.â He stepped through the doorway and glanced around the room as if heâd never entered it before, which I donât think he had.
I climbed off Brick and dusted my slacks with my hands, physically putting myself back to rights again because nothing inside me felt right at the moment.
Brick stood as well. âYou stay for the entire meeting?â he asked. When Hayden nodded, Brick lifted his eyebrows. âAnd?â
Haydenâs gaze sought me. He looked concerned. âAll the lawyers agreed that Nash Corporation still owns fifty percent, so you wonât be able to own the whole company as your father intended. But the profit Lana made from the transaction goes entirely to you. Itâll be up to you and the Nashes to figure out if either of you wants to buy the other out.â
I hugged myself, thinking of Ezra. Why did he suddenly feel like the enemy? The them? This was so crazy, and bizarre, and messed up. It was just totally and completely wrong.
Seeing the pain on my face, Brick hissed a curse under his breath and ran a hand through his hair. âAnd how the hell is Lana supposed to pay it back to Kaitlynn from jail?â
Hayden shook his head. âTheyâll probably liquidate all her assets and give a lionâs portion of the share to Kaitlynn, as she deserves. Theyâre hers anyway, despite how much sheâs owed from the Nash transaction. All the money Lanaâs spent or hoarded since Arthurâs death was his. It rightfully belongs to Kaitlynn.â
That news made my head spin. It was too much to deal with right now. Pressing a hand to my head, I muttered, âI donât want it.â It had lost my dad his life. âI just want my familyâs company. Thatâs it.â
Brick patted my back. âWell, you got it, kid. Er⦠At least, half of it.â
I glanced at my two stepbrothers. My family. Theyâd both just gone through exactly what Iâd gone through, but they seemed worried about me. A flare of love and belonging swept through me. It was both wonderful and frightening to know I could rely on them for any kind of support. Needing exactly that right now, I tested the waters by clutching my face between two hands and asking, âWhat do we do now?â
Hayden blew out a long breath, looking drained, so Brick answered, âWell, youâre going home. Youâre going to take a day just to process and let everything soak in. Then, after a long hot bath, maybe some alcohol, and a good nightâs sleep, you can figure out all the answers to lifeâs mysteries in the morning.â
âButââ
âDonât worry about it today,â Hayden reiterated. âBrickâs right. I think we all need a break for the time being. We can start dealing with the fallout tomorrow.â
And so, I went home.