Page 54

It’s a Western standoff.

I can practically see the tumbleweed blowing across the floor from my spot at the table in a private room inside MacGregor’s Whiskey Library. Taylor stiffens next to me as the silence stretches on and I reach over and clasp her hand in mine, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Maxwell sits on my other side, his brow cocked as he eyes the scene before us. He insisted on coming because Taylor is his little sister and he needed to be involved to make sure things were resolved appropriately. The entire family would’ve come if we let them.

The two men in front of me continue their silent stare down. Elias, twirling his famous lighter and chain in his hand, his green eyes not leaving the cold blue ones of Emerson sitting across from him. Emerson glowers at the mobster, and Elias returns the favor with a smirk.

“You guys done measuring dick size yet? Can we get down to business?” Maxwell mutters, finally fed up with the two idiots.

“Emerson, it’s been a while.” Elias tucks his lighter back in his navy suit jacket. He props his leg up on his knee, a picture of complete nonchalance.

“Not long enough,” the private investigator mutters, and rakes his hand over his golden brown hair. “I should’ve known you were fucking with my investigation.”

Elias chuckles as if he’s really amused. “So tell me, how’s your brother doing? Still pushing paperwork at the Fed?”

“That’s Special Agent Clarke to you, dipshit, and he’s doing great in the organized crime unit. Should I tell him to pay you a visit?”

I roll my eyes. “Can you guys work together or not? Or did we make a mistake by bringing you together? This was supposed to save time, not cause more issues.”

Emerson blows out a breath before twirling his index finger to get us to carry on.

Turning to Taylor, I kiss her hand before asking, “Do you want me to tell them, or do you want to do it yourself?”

She stiffens and sits up straighter. A rush of pride streaks across my chest at the fire burning hot in her eyes. My fierce minx.

“I’ve thought through things and decided I don’t want to cater to the blackmailer’s demands,” she says. She grips my hand tighter. “I don’t want to live in fear anymore knowing these guys are out there and they could come haunt me at any time. I want to find the bastards.”

Elias stares unwaveringly at her, a flash of admiration in his eyes. “What if more photos or videos come out? We’ll try our damned best to stop them, but there are no guarantees we can get to them before they’re uploaded online, or if the press might get a hold of them and release them without our permission.”

“It’ll be payday for the press—an Anderson in a compromising situation in photos—especially since this Anderson is dating the heir to the Vaughn fortune,” Emerson adds, visibly disgruntled that he’s agreeing with Elias.

“Charles and I will take care of the press if it comes to that,” Maxwell murmurs. He sneaks a glance our way. “Money isn’t an issue here, Tay. The press just wants their payday. They don’t care who it’s from.”

Taylor swallows, her eyes widening at the implication of me and her brother throwing what will be an exorbitant amount of cash at this problem.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice catching at the end.

“Anything for you, minx. Nothing is too expensive.”

Maxwell’s gaze softens. “Tay, I’m sure the girls already told you this, but it’s not just you and Grace against the world now. I know you’re very independent and,” his nostrils flare and a muscle tics in his jaw, “I wish Dad reunited with you guys sooner. But you are one of us. An attack on you is an attack on our family. We always have your back.”

Taylor’s breath hitches, and she smiles. I tug her to my side, my eyes catching Maxwell’s, and I give him a curt nod. I’m so damn proud to call the Andersons my best friends. Unlike most other wealthy families who don’t take too kindly to illegitimate children born outside of marriage, the Andersons have welcomed Grace and Taylor with open arms. I didn’t realize the extent of their commitment and honor until now.

“I have to ask you a question, Taylor.” Elias clasps his hands in front of him. “Which hotel were you at on the night of your assault?” He sneaks a knowing glance at me as blood rushes to my head. He knew I couldn’t bring myself to ask her, and he couldn’t do it before now because Taylor didn’t know he was investigating.

My palms grow sweaty as my pulse roars in my ear. Please don’t say it. Please don’t say it. Please—

“Hotel Renegade.”

My heart plummets to the floor. The only scenario I don’t have a solution for. The suspicion I had in the back of my mind, not wanting to face it. My uncle and Taylor in the same place, at the same time. I remember her eyes were haunted with terror the day she met him at ABTC. Her memory of a blond man with light eyes.

“And the exact date of your assault?”

The oxygen is sucked out of the room.

“October 5 th . I’ll never forget that day.”

October 5 th . Hotel Renegade. The words ring in my ears as my blood turns to ice.

Elias’s eyes sharply dart to me as comprehension dawns on his face.

Betrayal sears into me. The final puzzle pieces sliding into place. The truth I didn’t want to face. The man who was everything to me when I was growing up, the man who loved me, who taught me how to be a man not like my father.

That man is a monster .

I’m going to kill him. My mind swirls with violence as I grip Taylor’s hand tightly, and she draws in a pained breath. Once I get confirmation that he was the monster who brutalized Taylor, I’m going to kill him.

“Charles?” She frowns as I shake beside her, unable to form words.

Emerson furrows his brows, his gaze bouncing between the two of us. “You guys know something, don’t you? You’re not telling us everything.”

“Charles?” Taylor shakes me.

I turn toward her, staring at her beautiful face once more, taking in her startling eyes, now glimmering with concern for me, her pale skin I know flushes pink at the slightest emotion, her perfect cupid’s bow lips that are pillowy soft.

It may be the last time she looks at me this way. Guileless. In love.

Because what she just said changes everything. Why would she stay with me if the monster who attacked her all those years ago and is now blackmailing her is my uncle?

I heave in one deep breath. And another. Slowly, I reach out and skim my thumb over her cheek, savoring the silky softness and her whispery inhale reaching my ears.

Swallowing, I murmur, “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Taylor freezes.

I caress her cheek again. I love this woman so damn much. “I’m sorry for keeping this from you. I couldn’t bring myself to ask you before because I couldn’t bear it if…if my worst nightmare becomes a reality. But Elias took care of it for me.”

My pulse pounds in my ears and a headache forms at the base of my neck. “You see, when I asked Elias to look into your past, the first thing I asked him to search for is Ian’s whereabouts all those years ago.”

Taylor gasps, her face slowly leaching of color. Her hands slide out of my grasp and she crosses them over her chest.

She’s slipping away already.

Dread lines my stomach and I feel like I’m suffocating in front of everyone. “He found a photo on the dark web of Ian with a few men at Hotel Renegade on the same day you were assaulted.”

“No, no, no,” she mutters, shaking her head. “It can’t be. I couldn’t have been working with him this entire time and I… No, it can’t be—”

“Didn’t you tell me one of them had blond hair and light eyes? And how you reacted to him the day we met? You were frozen in fear, Tay. I thought you were insane that day, but now I know better.” My voice is hoarse, pained as I reach for her, desperate to feel her warmth again.

She shrinks away, her eyes darting around the room, her skin as pale as a sheet of paper. “I was mistaken, right? I told myself I didn’t remember because I was drugged. The monster smelled like peppermint. But Sir Ian smells like oranges. There’s no way,” she stands up, her chair topping over in a clang, “I couldn’t have been working with my rapist this entire time and not know it. Tell me it isn’t true!”

Pulling my hair, I stand up too and haul her to me, crushing her in my embrace because seeing her standing there, looking so damn fragile and shell-shocked, has me wanting to burn the world for her. “I don’t know, but we’ll find out for sure, minx. Maybe your body remembered something your mind couldn’t. Fuck, we’ll find out the truth. I’m so, so sorry. If it was Ian, fuck!”

“No, no, no,” she mutters over and over.

Closing my eyes, I shush her trembling body as we reel with this devastating clue.

“I’ll always stand on your side, Tay. No matter what,” I promise. If you’ll still have me. “I should’ve told you when I suspected. I’m so fucking sorry for withholding this info from you. Will you forgive me?”

Taylor stills and looks up at her, her eyes searching my face. “I-I don’t know what to think right now and I am mad at you for not telling me.” She swallows. “I can understand the reason. But I won’t put up with this shit in the future, Charles Vaughn. You need to talk to me!”

I heave out a sigh of relief. She isn’t breaking up with me. Pulling her back in my arms, I murmur, “I promise. No more secrets.”

She harrumphs. “Bastard, you better. And this doesn’t mean I forgive you yet.”

“We need to confirm it’s him, of course. It’s tenuous right now, with him being your dance director and the ongoing blackmail. If it is him, he obviously suspects we’re onto him,” Emerson murmurs, as I usher Taylor back into her seat after Maxwell uprights the chair from the floor.

“Everything is circumstantial. There were tons of people at Hotel Renegade that night. It could all be coincidence.” Elias takes a sip of the whiskey, his brow arched high.

I don’t believe in coincidences either.

“From where I sit, there are two ways to proceed from here. If the bastard is Ian Vaughn, and Charles confronts him, he will deny it and walk free because we don’t have a shred of evidence. The photos or videos may be leaked online and we’ll need to deal with that fallout.” Emerson taps his fingers on the table.

He continues, “If it isn’t him, we’ll have caused unnecessary friction in Charles’s relationship with his uncle and Taylor’s relationship with her boss. Whoever is behind this may still find out we haven’t given up and may still leak the photos or videos. Without concrete evidence, we’ll never be able to verify if it is him.”

“Or I can just torture it out of him,” Elias offers, flicking open his lighter. “I just need half an hour. That’d be an overestimate.”

“No!” Taylor sits up, some color finally returning to her face. “I need to know for sure before we do anything. Ballet is my life and Sir Ian is Charles’s uncle.”

She looks at me, her face crumbling at the possibility her rapist may be her mentor and the man I’ve looked up to my entire life. “I won’t blow everything up until I know for sure. And I need to know what happened. I need to know the truth.”

Elias snaps shut his lighter and sets it on the table. “If you don’t want the torture route, then there’s only one way to find out. But it’ll be hard for you, Taylor. Are you up for it?”