Page 74

“Some days, I actually feel like I’m dreaming,” she says, wiping all traces of pizza from her fingers with a napkin.

“Are you scared?”

She shakes her head.

“It’s not what I would have planned for myself, but no, I’m not afraid. Not with a team of professionals this big – I’m sure I can muddle through the mechanics of an empire without managing to lose anything.”

She laughs, but it seems hollow to me. Like maybe she’s afraid but is trying to stay positive about the situation. She’s vulnerable yet she’s trying not to show any signs of weakness. She is one of the strongest women I’ve ever met. She’s smart and independent, and I know she can hold her own if she just believes in herself.

“Come here,” I say, and she slides closer. I lift her legs and place them across my lap, making her turn so she’s facing me. “You ready to speak about your dad?”

“I know you’d never do anything to hurt me.” Again, that vulnerability.

“No, I wouldn’t. But I owe you the truth.”

“Do I want to know, Dante?”

“I just need you to remember that this all happened before I met you. Before I knew you.”

She nods, plays with the zipper of a cushion, then places it behind her back. I love the feel of her on me. I put a hand to her legs, moving my hand back and forth over her clothes in a soothing way. It’s all I can offer her for now.

“My father and yours were friends a long time ago, way back, before we were born. They had a falling out for some reason neither of them has ever discussed. Both were successful, powerful men who grew their wealth at considerably young ages by making smart choices. At some point in time, your father gained control of the docks, a major transport waterway into and out of the city. He was big in the logistics industry, so it made sense for him to invest in it. Although he never really utilized it or put it to work. There came a time when my father was looking at expansion, and the docks was the logical next step. He put in an offer – a rather generous one, at that – about twelve years ago; Maddog wasn’t in the market to sell. We tried again ten years ago; again, my father was met with rejection. We left it at that – if Maddog ever wanted to sell, we were sure we’d be in the running. My father found another way to move his business, but he begrudged Maddog over the years for his stubborn ways, believing he was holding on to the docks simply to spite him.”

I look at Kingsley and find her leaning in eagerly, hanging on every word I’m saying.

“Even though my father mentioned it at times over the years, the matter of the docks was for the most part forgotten. Until recently, when my father assigned me to babysitting duties.” I chuckle, tapping her leg once as I recall my father’s request.

“Babysitting duties?” she exclaims, affronted.

“He called and informed me that Maddog had passed. Reminded me how important it was that we got to Maddog’s son before anyone else did. The docks depended on it. I thought he’d forgotten all about the matter and put it to bed.”

“But he hadn’t?”

“I’m not so sure anymore after he mentioned he saw your father before he passed…”

“What did you do?”

“I argued with him. He wanted me to find Maddog’s son. So I watched the compound, waiting for Maddog’s son to show up. No one even knew what he looked like. No one had ever seen him. I was starting to think he didn’t even exist. Until one day, I noticed a lady leaving the house late at night, then leaving in the early morning hours. Always in a taxi, generally same timeframe. She kept strange hours. And I knew she was my ticket to getting to the boy.”

“So you followed her,” she comments. She is already putting the picture together. Smart girl.

“I followed you that night,” I tell her, my gaze skimming over her lazily. “I watched you go into the restroom at the gas station. I watched someone else walk out. I watched that someone else walk to the club. I found your get up on the ledge in the bathroom, suspected you’d changed your identity, and followed you to the club, where I watched you, waiting for my chance to grab you and ask you about the boy. And the rest of that story, as you know, is now history.”

“But you still didn’t have any information on Maddog’s son.”

“That’s why we waited for our opportunity to open up. We knew the day of his burial would be the day we’d get the break we’d been waiting for.”

“So when you took me from the cemetery, you weren’t even sure I was Maddog’s son?”

“We suspected. We weren’t sure.”

“But you took me anyway.”

“A means to an end,” I point out.

“And the whole time I was sitting there as a boy, you had no idea I was Moneybags?”

“I had no idea, Kingsley the Chameleon.”