Page 48 of Undeniably Corrupt (Boston’s Irresistible Billionaires #7)

T he rest of the day, most people give me a wide berth.

It’s one I appreciate even if they’re simply feeling awkward that my boss cleared a conference room to yell at me.

But here’s the thing. I can’t stop my mind.

I know Vander Moore. I’ve known him practically my entire life.

He’s the guy you call in the middle of an emergency because he’s the sort of guy who will always be there when you need him.

That’s what troubles me.

I mean, I’ve heard his friends intimate about it. He’s the quiet hero. The vigilante hiding in the dark, waiting to strike. He’s Batman, and Batman always fights on the side of good, even when he’s a bit morally gray himself.

And I love him. I just do. I’ve loved him for… forever.

I don’t want him to go up against my father or the FBI. I don’t want him to put himself further at risk. It terrifies me to think what my father will do to him if he finds out, and that’s not even including what the FBI will do if they find out he’s hacking them and evidently has been for years.

This is my mess to clean up. Not Vander’s.

And I’m tired of taking the cowardly way out.

I’m tired of looking over my shoulder, hiding, and always being afraid.

I don’t want this life anymore. I don’t want it for my daughter.

She deserves better. She deserves a mother who is strong.

A mother who stands up for the things she should and does the right thing no matter what.

But something in what Vander said is clicking with me. Well, several things actually, but one thing in particular is pounding like a drum in my head. I’ve had suspicions for a long time about this. Now I’m going to test my theory and run with it.

Me: I love you, Mom. I have no idea what sort of private hell you’ve been living through all these years with him, but I’m so sorry this has been your life. I’m sorry I haven’t done more to change it or stop it.

Me: Hazel has our eyes. She’s beautiful. And I see so much of Cass in her smile. I miss Cass, and I know you do too. He should still be with us. He shouldn’t be gone.

Mom: Your father’s a good man. He works hard for our family. I love him, and I love being here with him. I wouldn’t change anything.

Me: Give me the respect of not lying to me about him. We both know what he’s done. We both know the monster he is. One day, I’d love for you to meet your granddaughter.

Mom: I’d love that too, baby girl.

She leaves it at that, and I swallow thickly, thinking through what I’m doing. I don’t have a choice, though. Not anymore. I can’t continue to live like this. Hazel can’t grow up like this. I have to do something other than run and hide. Even if it scares the shit out of me .

And with that notion in my head, I make a phone call from the landline in a random, empty office.

“Surgical ICU, this is Rina speaking.”

“Hi, Rina. I’m looking for Dr. Katy Barrows Lawson.”

“Um, I’m not sure if she’s on this floor at the moment. Is there something I can help you with?”

“You’re Rina Fritz, right?” I remember Katy mentioning her the other day at Mason’s when we were talking about all their people who work at MGH with us.

There’s a long pause before she answers. “Yes. That’s my maiden name. Who’s this?”

“I need help. I’m a friend of your people.

Keegan and Kenna and Sorel and Katy and Wren, who I know are your nieces.

” I twirl around in the empty office chair toward the window and the darkening sky beyond.

“I’m trying to help one of your extended people.

One of their primary people. Can you put me through to Katy?

It has to be on this line, and it has to be her. ”

Rina is silent for a very long moment, and then she says, “Yes. I can do that. Do you need me to do something? Are you in trouble?”

“I just need Katy, and I don’t want to say more than that.” Because I won’t involve more people than I have to. I’m already sick at the idea of including Katy, but she told me she’d be here if Hazel or I ever needed anything, and right now, Hazel needs her.

“Okay. But just so you know, I’m here tomorrow morning starting at seven a.m., and it’s not just me who will be here in a position to help, if you know what I’m saying.”

I close my eyes and release a breath. “Thank you. I hope I won’t need that.”

“Hold, please.”

I wait and I hold, and a solid five freaking minutes later, Katy is on the landline. “This is Dr. Lawson.”

“Katy, it’s Liora. ”

“Hey.” A pause. “Um. What’s going on? Why did you call me through the SICU?”

Because I’ve learned a few things over the years about how to hide what you don’t want others to know.

“I need you to text me in a few minutes and tell me that Willow has been wanting to play more with Hazel. I need you to take her for the night. I’m going to fight you on it because our girls are so young and far from the age for a sleepover, but you have to insist. I know this is a huge?—”

“It’s done. Hazel is always welcome, and I have a bed she can sleep in. Are you safe? Is Vander okay?”

My eyes pinch closed, and I fight my tears. They won’t help me. “I’m working on it. But you can’t tell him, Katy. I know that’s another huge thing, and I wouldn’t ever ask you to keep something from him, but it has to be like this.”

“I’ve got Hazel.”

I choke down my sob. “Thank you.”

“If you need more, we’re here. All of us.”

I inhale a shaky breath. “It’s something I have to do myself and should have done a long time ago. But thank you. More than I can express, thank you.”

“Always. There isn’t anything we wouldn’t do for Vander. And you.”

She disconnects the call, and I climb out of the chair and return to my office to get myself ready to leave for the day.

Katy does her thing. I get a slew of texts that I fight, and then a call from her where she demands I bring Hazel over to her house for the night.

She even tells me not to bother packing a bag because she has everything Hazel will ever need and more for their overnight.

She asks about ice cream, and I laugh and say Hazel will love it.

It's all so sweet and fun and playful, even if it’s my two-and-a-half-year-old daughter going to a sleepover with her bestie about eight years before she should .

I pick up Hazel at the daycare and start spouting a million fun things about sleeping at Willow’s. Hazel’s excited. She thinks this is an adventure, but she’s also a little wobbly and will miss me.

“I’ll be there first thing in the morning to pick you up,” I beam, kissing her cheek as I walk us through the garage toward the car Vander purchased for us while pretending he already owned it. “It’ll be so much fun. But if you don’t want to go?—”

“No!” Hazel jumps twice, raggedly pulling on my hand that’s holding hers. “I want to, I want to.”

“Okay, but if you need me overnight, I’ll come get you.”

Hazel climbs up into her seat and starts singing a new song she learned today in daycare. And like the smiling, happy, oblivious mom that I am, I drive Hazel out to the south end of Boston and reluctantly drop her at Katy’s.

“Ah! Thank you!” Katy exclaims. “This is going to be the best. We’re getting pizza and are going to watch movies with ice cream and popcorn.

” Willow comes running over, and then a second later, Hazel follows her into the house without so much as a goodbye, and my heart goes into V-tach.

It’s not beating a perfusive rhythm. I want to grab her and run again but no more flight.

I hide my heartache behind my smile. “Thank you.”

Katy holds her happy expression. “Be safe, okay?”

“I’m hoping it’s just?—”

“I’ve got it and her. Take care of you.”

“And him,” I tell her and give her a hug.

I climb into my car, but I see him. He’s there. As I expected. He’s not even trying to hide from me, which is perfect. No more hiding. I have no intention of driving back to Vander’s, so I weave through Boston a bit, building my nerve up.

It never occurred to me, which is stupid, I realize, that my father was watching my mother’s texts with me.

Most of the time I didn’t think about it.

Our texts were basic and never spoke about anything specific.

I don’t know what my mother knows and what she doesn’t.

She might still think Cass fell and that it was a horrific accident.

But after hearing that this agent guy showed up to talk to Vander shortly after I texted my mother that I was working for him is more than a little coincidental.

It’s why I texted all of that to my mother earlier, and it seems my pathetic, weak father took the bait. Good thing too, because I had no idea how else I was going to be able to do this.

I have to play this right. I have to believe that what Vander said about this guy is true. Otherwise, all hope is lost. Otherwise my father will have Vander killed and likely me and Hazel as well.

Vander won’t text me for a little while, but he will know that Hazel and I aren’t home soon enough when he doesn’t see us on camera. He’s going to be furious with me, and I get it. I’m risking a lot. Everything, really. So let’s hope this is as Vander said.

I drive through Boston and back around toward the university.

It’s close to Vander’s building, but I don’t go there.

I go to the parking lot on the south side of campus that is mostly empty save for a few scattered cars but is still on a public campus with enough people not too far off.

Not to mention there are emergency buttons and places to run to if I need to.

I pull into the lot, park on an empty side away from the buildings, and shut off my car. Breathing heavily, my hands shake, and my heart pounds so much adrenaline through my body that I’m hazy with it. Or maybe I’m hyperventilating? Shit, it could be that.

I check my face in the rearview mirror. “Time to woman up, girl. You’ve got this.”