Page 29 of Behind These Four Walls

Isla backed up a few steps to give the man space to take stock of the room. He seemed to be closing the book on her and her offer, his interest in her depleted.

Holland waved her face mask in the air with a wide already-on-it smile.

He pointed at her. “No slacking when you head back to school and the team, right? I want wins from you.” Holland agreed.

Bennett plucked an apple from the center plate and was about to leave with a suave wave, straightening his tailored suit, when his father stopped him in his tracks. “We’ll need to discuss the LA office, Bennett,” Victor said curtly. “All that business in LA? I need to know what’s being done. I need to know how that happened.”

Isla held her breath, tension mounting in the air. Matthew Leonard.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Bennett’s winning grin crumbled. He looked like a deer caught in headlights as he looked at Jackson and his mother, then focused on his father. He straightened to his full height, two inches taller than his father.

“It’s under control,” he replied. “I’ve got it handled.”

Victor inclined his head as he considered his son. “Do you? Well, I’d like to know how you’re handling it that won’t be another massive screwup like it was six months ago. Find out how it happened. Understand?”

Bennett’s face tightened, and his complexion flushed red. Isla wouldn’t have believed someone as cocky as Bennett had been earlier was capable of shame, but there it was for all of them to see.

“Yes, sir.” He looked away, burning a hole in their imported flooring with his glare.

If Victor noticed that he’d embarrassed his younger son, he didn’t show it, or didn’t care. He moved to the next item on his internal list, leaving Isla still standing with her question unanswered.

“Myles, I’ll need you with me for those DC meetings,” Victor said.

Myles finally came to life by looking up from the table or floor, wherever he’d been directing his attention, to meet his father’s expectant gaze. Myles’s eyes flickered to his brother, whose displeasure andembarrassment were palpable, filling the room with their noxiousness. His full, dark brows knit together as he navigated a minefield, before he said, “I don’t mind hanging back today. Maybe Bennett could join you in DC? I have a couple of calls and meetings with Special Projects that really need my attention today.”

Now,thatwas interesting. When everyone else—save Holland—was vying so hard for Victor’s time and attention, Myles was not. Isla thought the two brothers were in competition to be the next in line, and that meant never saying no to their father and always being accessible when he called for them. A glance around the room reflected Isla’s exact thoughts. They all looked at Myles, taken aback. Except Victor and Bennett.

Bennett’s nostrils flared, and Isla half expected smoke to come out. The muscles in Bennett’s mouth flexed, his lips pinched, and his body grew taut as if he were barely restraining himself. Victor let out a deep sigh, glancing briefly at the ceiling as if asking why him.

Bennett spun toward Myles, about to speak, but their mother, sensing things were about to get worse, artfully stepped in front of him, breaking their line of vision.

“I actually need Bennett’s advisement on some things with the Foundation.” She offered a defeated smile to Victor and a tolerant one to Myles. “So he’ll be too busy as well. But thank you, Myles. You’re always so kind,” she finished placatingly, her large jewelry glittering around her neck.

Myles considered her with his head inclined. Then his brother. Finally, he dipped his head, accepting Brooke’s save of her son instead of addressing Bennett directly.

“Let’s get you a car home,” Jackson offered to Isla. He was the only one to remember that she was still there.

Isla barely acknowledged what he’d said. Was competition all this family knew? Which son would be the next ruler of the empire? Would they have to duel it out to determine the winner, and was that really what Victor wanted? She’d assumed he would be more traditional, choosing his firstborn per the traditional rule that magnate familiestypically believed in—primogeniture, with the firstborn heir (initially male but now modernized) inheriting everything, whether they had earned it or not.

However, Victor hadn’t automatically made Myles his successor, which gave Bennett as much chance as Myles to assume the position. It could be because Myles had gone into the air force right after graduating high school and served for eight years before returning to the family business. His absence had cleared the way for Bennett to take the spotlight and become the golden child who was being groomed for the position. If Eden had been here, what part would she have played in the succession struggle? Or had she been taken out before she even got started? Isla would ask Holland about Edie the next chance she had, away from all of them, where Holland might feel more comfortable talking about the sister she clearly missed. But the question Isla couldn’t stop asking was why Eden hadn’t said these people were her family. Or had Isla just misinterpreted what Eden had been saying? She was losing confidence in her memory.

There was a reason why Myles had opted to go into the military after graduating, disrupting his father’s plans. There was a reason Myles didn’t fight Bennett when it came to company matters, opting to let his younger brother have his way. Myles preferred to remain the silent observer in the background. Isla didn’t buy it. There was more to Myles’s silence than just being apathetic about the family business.

And Eden had left, too, and was bitter and angry because of it. What had been the difference? Isla thought about a famous line in Eden’s favorite play,Hamlet.

“Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.”

Something most definitely was.

Only this wasn’t Denmark in the 1600s. It was the Corrigan estate in the twenty-first century.

Victor turned to leave, with Dixon a step behind. Myles was already up and following behind them, his portfolio tucked under his arm as he slipped his hands in the pockets of his charcoal slacks. He accepted hismatching jacket from one of the staff, who anticipated his needs before he even spoke them.

Isla’s shoulders sagged in defeat. Victor hadn’t outright rejected her, but he hadn’t agreed either. Instead, he’d changed the subject, which was the end of that conversation and the end of the sliver of hope she’d had for getting in easy. She didn’t know how else she could get access to the family now, especially with Holland returning to school soon. Maybe she could work at the country club they frequented. She hadn’t even been able to get to a computer to put in Rey’s malware. The whole thing had been unsuccessful—she’d learned a lot but achieved nothing. Now what?

She didn’t have long to wallow in self-pity, because the mischievous Bennett had turned into something else. When he thought no one was watching, Bennett glared at Victor and Myles as they left together. Anger and jealousy were a dangerous combination, and they simmered just below his surface. His fists balled at his sides so tightly, the veins bulged. He looked as if he were about to blow. His eyes were hard and directed so much hate at them it was toxic, and Isla wanted to get as far away from it as she could. He took a firm step to follow them, rage rippling over his face.