Page 111 of The Brothers Hawthorne

“No.” Jameson didn’t think, didn’t consider his options—because there weren’t any. He hadn’t come here, hadn’t put everything on the line, to back down now.

“No?” Katharine arched a brow, then turned her head toward Ian, a silentfix this.

“No,” Jameson repeated. “As in the opposite of yes, to decline, deny, or negate.No.”

“Jameson.” Ian walked to stand directly in front of him and laid a hand on his shoulder. “You did what I needed you to do, son.”

I have his eyes.Jameson let himself think that, just this once.Grayson has his father’s eyes, and I have mine. I have his laugh.

“You said you needed a player,” Jameson replied, ignoring the hand on his shoulder. Nothing could hurt you unless you let it. “Someone smart and cunning, merciless—”

“But never dull,” Ian cut in. “Yes, yes, I know. And you played. Well done, you. But now, the plan has changed.”

Your plan, Jameson thought, emotions twisting in his gut like brambles full of thorns. He’d known from the beginning that Ian was using him. He’dknownthat. But at least he’d been indispensable to the plan before. But now?

I’m disposable.“You wanted a player who could calculate odds,” Jameson said, and he could hear the wild fury building in his own voice. “Someone who could defy those odds.”

And I did that.

“I needed a player, and you played,” Ian said, sounding annoyed now. “It’s over. Now give me the keys.”

You love a challenge, Jameson could hear the man in front of him saying.You love to play. You love to win. And no matter what you win, you always need more.

For a brief time, Jameson had almost felt seen. “I’m not giving you anything,” he said fiercely. “Would the deal you’ve struck even give you Vantage back?” Jameson let the question hang in the air, but he knew the answer, had known it the first time he’d uttered the wordsWhat about Vantage?

Katharine—and his other uncle—weren’t playing for Vantage. They were playing for the damning secret of a powerful man, which meant that Katharine must have offered Ian something else, something he wanted more than the estate his mother had left him. The place where he grew up. A property that had been in his mother’s family for generations.

He doesn’t care. Not about family. Not about this place.Jameson breathed in.Not about me.

“Time is wasting,” Katharine declared, her tone brisk. “And I’ll still need to locate the boxes that those keys unlock.”

Ian’s eyes narrowed at Jameson. “I know that you aren’t wired to lose, Jameson,” he said, his voice silky. “But you need to do what I say, because neither am I.”

That was a warning. A threat.

“Do I look like a person who’s easy to threaten?” Jameson smiled, even though it hurt his bruised and battered face.

“Not particularly.” Rohan appeared as if by magic, stepping out from behind a statue. “Some people,” the Factotum continued, “just don’t know when to stay down.”

Jameson wasn’t sure if that was a reference to Ian or himself. Either way, it didn’t matter. Jameson was done talking.What happens to Ian now—what Rohan does to him for interfering—is none of my concern.

“Let’s go,” he told Avery, a lump rising in his throat. He’d gone a lifetime without a father. He didn’t need one now.

All Jameson Winchester Hawthorne needed was to win.

CHAPTER 76

JAMESON

Two of the three keys had been found on the grounds. Jameson’s gut said that the boxes those keys opened would be back inside the manor. He listened to his gut and paid no attention to the storm of emotions churning inside him—and even less to the sound of Ian shouting after them.

“Jameson.” That was all Avery said, once they were out of earshot of the others.

“I’m fine,” he told her. That was a lie. They both knew it was a lie.

“You’re better than fine,” Avery told him fiercely. “You’re Jameson Winchester Hawthorne. And we’re going to win this game.”

Jameson came to a stop and turned to face her, so he could quiet the storm inside in the only way he knew how. He pushed Avery’s wild, wind-blown hair back from her face. She tilted her head back, and he brought his lips down on hers—not hard this time but soft and slow. His mouth hurt. His face and body hurt. Everything hurt. But kissing Avery?