Page 119 of Finding Denver

Somehow, I hold back a blanch. “I didn’t mean?—”

“I know what you meant. This is my family, not yours.”

It isn’t a total shock to see him this way. He’s warm around everybody else, but is reserved with me, for whatever reason. I never really cared—his opinion of me doesn’t matter.

But for some reason, today it does.

“Why don’t you like me, Alistair?”

He hesitates, and I expect him to leave, but instead, he takes a seat in front of the desk I’m using. The cold in his expression is gone, replaced by total neutrality. He places his laptop on the desk as he gets comfortable. “I’ve run Colt’s businesses for a long time. I’ve been with him through everything. I’ve always looked out for him, and I don’t trust your intentions.”

I drum my fingers against the desk. “What do you think my intentions are?”

“I think you have feelings for Colt, but not strong enough to let his brother live for what he did to you. I think you’re manipulative, I think you’re calculated, and I think the moment the chance arises to kill Wilder, you will. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain.”

“Gain? What do I gain from?—”

“Colt Harland is in love with you. Finn McEwan said he’d go to war for you. Samuel Lok Shun Lau is willing to team up with you. That’s quite the army, don’t you think?”

This is an interesting turn of events, but at least I’m distracted. It’s been over a year since I sat across a desk from a man who challenged me without fear, and he ended up dead in my nightclub.

“So, what do you think my plan was?” I ask. “My husband sabotages my casino, I decide that if I can’t control Ranger Luxe, then I’ll do one better and get a McEwan. So, I cozy up to Finn and Helena. Colt is a bonus. I get close to him by miraculously discovering my son is alive?—”

“What happened with Theo isn’t?—”

“No, let’s play this out,” I say, and he falls silent. “I bond with Colt over our grief, my son reappears, and Colt is willing to kill Ranger for little old me. And now I’ll somehow kill off Wilder, marry Colt, dip my little fingers in all the businesses and hope for the best?” I cross my legs. “You forget, Alistair, that I’m a McEwan by marriage. I didn’t need to do any of this. I could have knocked on Finn’s front door and asked for his help, and he would have given it to me, because he’s a good man and sees me for who I actually am.”

“And who is that?”

“Someone who wants out,” I bite back. “I don’t know whether you’re threatened because you love Colt or you love this business, but either way, I don’t give a shit. My life has been destroyed these last few months and you’re lucky I’m letting you walk away after claiming I used it all to fatten my fucking bank account.” He stares at me, jaw tight. “You may have seen me weak, Alistair, but believe me, it’s a rare sight. Don’t mistake me for a broken woman, because I have my name and my reputation for a reason. Rememberwho I fucking am before you ever say shit like that to me again.”

Alistair keeps his gaze locked on mine, fire behind honey brown, and when he eventually stands, he says, “I trust my gut. And my gut says you aren’t as innocent as you make yourself out to be.”

He leaves and I exhale, my breath shaky. There’s always one who assumes the worst, and I can’t blame him. I swept in from nowhere and started working at businesses that I have no right to be in. If anything, I envy Colt having someone so loyal they’re willing to bite for him.

My hand trembles as I brush back my hair. A few months ago, a confrontation like that wouldn’t have rattled me—I’d take it in my stride and go about my day. But I wasn’t lying when I told Alistair my life has been destroyed.

I stand and grab my purse as someone appears in the doorway. The office chair rolls behind me as I step back, and Wilder raises his hands.

“Get out,” I whisper.

He steps into the room. “I just need five minutes.”

“Get out before—” My gaze lands on his raised hands, on the bracelet around his wrist. One Holly probably made with me. I glance between the jewelry and him.

“Please,” he says quietly.

My chest is too tight to respond, so he slowly lowers his hands and takes the seat that Alistair just vacated. I remain on my feet, my purse in my grip. My gun is in there. Loaded. Safety on, but I’m fast.

“I’ll find the man who did it, Sebastian.”

“And then what?”

“I’ll kill him.”

“What’s the fucking point? It won’t bring them back, and it won’t make any of us feel better.”

I blink back tears as Wilder places his hands on his lap, the bracelet still in view. He looks like he did last night: a shell of the man who had his hand around my throat and promised to kill me. His cheeks are hollower, hair longer, and in a year he’s aged ten. I take no pleasure in that. I get no relief from his pain.