Chapter 8 - The King Who Couldn't Control His Own House|
Damian was sitting in his private office when Victor Sloane arrived the next morning.
Victor entered with his usual confidence, carrying an expensive leather briefcase.
At forty-six, he had the polished appearance of a successful businessman.
His silver hair was perfectly styled, and his suits were always tailored.
But his eyes never softened when he smiled.
Damian had once considered that quality an advantage.
Today, he considered it a warning.
"Sit down," Damian said.
Victor glanced at the empty chair.
"I assumed this was about Evelyn."
"It's about Blue Harbor Logistics."
Victor paused for a fraction of a second.
Then he sat.
"What about it?"
"How much money did the Miriam Ellis Foundation pay them last year?"
Victor smiled.
"I'd need to check the accounting department."
"Try again."
Victor's smile faded.
"Damian, what's this really about?"
Damian placed three shipping manifests on the desk.
"Why were foundation trucks redirected to Gate Four?"
Victor looked at the documents.
"Temporary storage arrangements."
"For medical equipment?"
"Among other things."
"What other things?"
Victor leaned back.
"You know how our business works."
Damian felt something cold settle inside him.
There it was.
The answer Victor expected him to accept without asking questions.
For years, Damian had built his power by demanding loyalty while allowing his most profitable operations to remain comfortably distant from his personal attention.
He had told himself that delegation was efficiency.
Now he understood that looking away had become a habit.
And other people had paid for it.
"Did you move firearms using my wife's foundation?" he asked.
Victor's expression changed.
Only slightly.
But Damian saw it.
"Where did you hear that?"
"Answer me."
Victor spread his hands.
"The arrangement was profitable."
Damian stood.
"Her mother's foundation delivers medicine to children."
"And nobody looks twice at a truck carrying charity supplies."
The casualness of Victor's response made Damian want to strike him.
Instead, he gripped the edge of the desk.
"Who authorized it?"
Victor hesitated.
"Lydia handled the paperwork."
"Did Evelyn know?"
"No."
The single word landed like a blow.
Damian stared at the man he had trusted for nearly a decade.
"Then why did you tell me she was involved in a security breach?"
Victor's eyes narrowed.
"Because she started asking questions."
"She was asking about missing supplies."
"She was getting too close."
Damian felt sick.
He remembered every time Evelyn had mentioned problems with foundation deliveries.
Every time he had told her not to worry.
Every time Lydia suggested that Evelyn was becoming suspicious or emotionally unstable.
He had dismissed his wife's concerns because believing her would have required examining his own organization.
And he had kissed Lydia because he wanted to punish Evelyn for refusing to remain obedient.
That part was not Victor's fault.
That was entirely his.
"Get out," Damian said.
Victor stared at him.
"You're making a mistake."
"Leave my office."
Victor rose slowly.
"You might want to think carefully before accusing me."
Damian looked at him.
"Is that a threat?"
Victor adjusted his jacket.
"Consider it advice."
He walked out.
Damian immediately called Owen Price.
"Remove Victor's access to the estate and company systems."
Owen hesitated.
"Sir, he controls several departments."
"Then start with the ones you can secure."
"Understood."
"And I want copies of every payment connected to Blue Harbor."
"Yes, sir."
Damian ended the call.
He stared at the empty chair.
For the first time in years, he was uncertain whether his own orders would be obeyed.
That afternoon, he found Lydia in the conservatory.
She was arranging white roses in a crystal vase.
The sight of the flowers reminded him of the lilies in the dining room.
He remembered Evelyn standing beneath the archway.
He remembered her face.
"Lydia."
She turned.
"Damian."
"Did you authorize the shipments through Gate Four?"
Her hands stopped moving.
"What shipments?"
"Don't."
She lowered the scissors.
"Victor told me they were emergency transfers."
"Did he tell you where the supplies were going?"
"Not exactly."
"Did you forge Evelyn's signature?"
Lydia's face went pale.
Damian stepped closer.
"Answer me."
"She was busy."
"That's not an answer."
"I was trying to help!"
"By stealing her authorization?"
Lydia began crying.
"I thought if I proved I could handle things, you'd finally see me differently."
Damian stared at her.
"There it is."
"What?"
"The truth."
Lydia wiped her cheeks.
"I love you."
Damian felt a wave of disgust, partly at her and partly at himself.
"Your sister loved you."
Lydia flinched.
"She never understood me."
"She gave you a career."
"She gave me leftovers!"
Her voice rose.
"Everything was always Evelyn's!"
"Mom trusted Evelyn."
"Everyone admired Evelyn."
"Even when I worked twice as hard, I was still just her little sister."
Damian looked at the furious woman before him.
"So you decided to take what belonged to her?"
Lydia's mouth trembled.
"You kissed me too."
Damian stood very still.
He had no defense against that.
"Yes," he said.
"I did."
For a moment, Lydia looked hopeful.
Then he continued.
"And that was cruel."
Her face crumpled.
"Damian—"
"I kissed you because I wanted Evelyn to feel powerless."
The words tasted bitter.
"I wanted her to understand that I could hurt her and she couldn't do anything about it."
Lydia stepped backward.
"But she did something," Damian said quietly.
"She left."
The truth filled the conservatory.
Lydia looked toward the floor.
"Can you bring her back?"
Damian stared through the glass at the winter garden.
He could send men to every city in New England.
He could offer rewards, threaten employees, and spend fortunes searching for his wife.
But he was beginning to understand that finding Evelyn would not mean getting her back.
"No," he answered.
"Not like this."
He returned to his office and called Owen again.
"Stop the private search for Evelyn."
"Sir?"
"Tell every man working for me to leave her alone."
"What if Victor reaches her first?"
Damian closed his eyes.
"Then we help law enforcement stop Victor."
Owen was silent.
Damian understood why.
Cooperating with federal authorities could expose everything he had spent years building.
But the alternative was allowing innocent people to suffer so that he could protect his reputation.
Damian looked at the family portrait hanging above his fireplace.
Evelyn was smiling in the photograph.
He wondered how long ago that smile had stopped being genuine.
Then he spoke words his men had never heard from him before.
"Contact our attorneys."
"Tell them I need to discuss cooperating with investigators."
May you like
For the first time, Damian Russo was not planning how to win.
He was beginning to confront what winning had cost.
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