Page 50 of Secret Revenge

Emily showed me I had passed with honors.

“Where’s your mom right now?” Emily asked suddenly, breaking me out of my reverie.

“She lives in a retirement home now,” I murmured, wondering why she asked. “She prefers being there, with friends her own age. After my father died, she said she felt freer than she had been for years. Now she just wants to enjoy having her own social life, and stay out of the public eye. Every time she steps into the spotlight, people start asking her about him.”

I turned to look at her. “What about you? How’s your own mother?”

Emily looked away. “One of the reasons I agreed to work for Jonathan was so that I could support my mom and stepdad. Mom’s been struggling since he’s been in and out of the hospital. Isn’t it ironic? I thought I would be getting paid to right a wrong, but instead I agreed to steal from you.” She chuckled bitterly.

“You had every reason to believe I was like my father,” I murmured. Listening to her speak, all I could think of was how much I wanted to help her. She and her whole family were entitled to reparations. And more than that: I wanted to see what she would accomplish with her life if she never had to worry about money again.

That, at least, I can help with.I smiled.

24

EMILY

It was such a relief not to have to lie to Travis anymore. I felt light, as though an enormous weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

For the first time since my childhood, I no longer felt the need for revenge.

I was safe in his arms. As he wrapped me close, our sticky bodies pressed tightly together, I shut my eyes and listened to his heartbeat.

It’s not long before the doorbell rang, startling me. I rarely had visitors and wasn't expecting anyone.

Travis raised his head to look at me, arching a brow. I shrugged in response. “I’ll see who it is.”

Could it be Michael?I wondered. I wondered how he was taking the revelations we’d discovered. I had Travis to comfort me; he didn’t.

Travis got out of bed and grabbed his pants, pulling them on quickly. Then he pulled me back toward him. He kissed me deeply and smacked my bum gently. “Don’t take too long.”

I shook myself out of his grip and grabbed the robe that hung on my bedroom door. I smiled at Travis before leaving, drinking in his beauty, then hurried to the front door.

“Coming!” I yelled, as the doorbell rang again. I unlocked the door but made sure the chain was in place before opening the door a crack.

Jonathan was standing outside the door with an irritated look on his face.

A frown creased his face as he saw me. Before I knew what had happened, he was pointing something at me through a crack in the door.

The color drained from my face. He held a pistol.

My mind raced. I could still slam the door in his face, but there was no way this flimsy door was bulletproof.

“Open this door now,” Jonathan said softly, “or I’ll paint your lovely carpet with your intestines.” His eyes held a cold, ruthless look that left no doubt about his threat.

“Don’t test me,” he warned, cocking the gun. “Open the door.”

I unlatched the chain with shaky hands and stepped backwards. I raised my hands as he stepped forward, the gun pointed at me.

Then the other men appeared. They’d been pressed against the front of my house where I couldn’t see them. Now they flooded in, all holding weapons of their own.

I staggered backward, now realizing the magnitude of my mistake. I should have closed the door in Jonathan’s face and ducked for cover. My apartment was now full of armed men.

And Travis Ross, one of the most valuable hostages in all the world, was in my bedroom.

“Jonathan,” I said in a croaky voice. I hated how high pitched and whiny my voice sounded but there was nothing I could do about it.

“We can talk about this…”