Alex walked back out into the living room. Cindy was standing now, her bag on her shoulder. “All set?” she asked.
How many more times would he be relieved that the depth of his skin tone hid the heat in his cheeks? Did he really mind? “Yes,” he said. He picked up his briefcase from its spot outside of his office on their way down the hallway, and led Cindy into the elevator and out the front door of the building. David was waiting for them with the car. Alex kept his eyes on the man, waiting for so much as a lifted eyebrow at the way he’d brought one woman up and was bringing another woman down. The man’s professionalism didn’t falter for a moment, though. Cindy slid neatly into the back of the car, and Alex followed her. David, to his credit, had already raised the partition between the front and the back of the car.
“What did you want to discuss?” Cindy asked. She was every inch the lawyer now, all signs of her distress gone.
“There is a motion within the board,” Alex said, choosing his words carefully. “Some people believe that AEGIS should keep its manufacturing allocated as it is currently, with weapons manufacturing and sales around 50% of the company’s profits. There is another faction, however, that believes the company would be better served, both from a public perception angle, and from the point of view of morality, by shifting development money towards healthcare development, specifically medicines and gear that can be used in locations without high quality water supplies, and so forth. I need to know which side you would take, were you to claim any shares.”
Cindy grinned, and he saw the look the old man had worn just before he closed on his prey like a shark in bloody waters. “Which side gets me your support?”
Alex kept silence, and kept his face as impassive as he could.
She shrugged. “The old bastard didn’t leave anything to his wife, or she wouldn’t be as frightened as she is. She’s holding your younger sister’s shares in trust until she turns 18, of course, and everyone knows that girl idolizes you, and would do anything you want her to. She’ll make money off the shares, but she’ll never be a force on the board. Not like Alexander Blankenship, legendary playboy.”
She was trying to get a rise out of him, throw him off balance so that he’d give something away. He kept his face steady, his gaze on her face, waiting. The trick to a good poker face was not to worry about it too much. You couldn’t contain expression by focusing on expression. You just had to focus on—not caring. This hand of cards couldn’t matter. There was something bigger at stake.
Cindy laughed at him. “Fair enough. Given my own preferences, Alex, I’d support the medical angle. But if it comes to it, I will vote whatever you want me to, in order to get your support. Hell, I’d sign the shares over to you at market value. But Olivia Cunningham is not going to intimidate me. It’s unfortunate that she married a racist sack of shit, but quite frankly, that’s not my problem. I have my own life to think about.”
It was a good enough answer for now. It was galling to think about buying back something that was supposed to be his already, but she wasn’t wrong about Claire’s willingness to do what he told her to. It had driven a wedge between himself and Olivia already, and he didn’t think for one moment that would get easier. He might do just as well to have her as an ally; few people seemed to detest Olivia as much as he did. That would be useful.
Before he said anything, there was a chirping sound. Cindy’s eyes darkened suddenly, and her hand shook as she said “Excuse me,” and reached for a phone. Not the smart phone he’d seen in her hand a few times since she’d arrived. An old flip phone, the type that were paid for in cash. Deliberately.
She flipped it open, and read whatever message she’d just received. Alex watched as the color flooded out of her pale cheeks. Her hand, with its perfect manicure, fluttered up to her mouth, covering it. Her eyes squeezed closed in obvious pain, then flashed open again. Tears glittered on her lashes, but she kept her eyes wide, presumably to keep them from spilling over.
He waited as long as he could stand, and then gently reached out, touching her knee with one light finger. “Ms. Walden?” She didn’t say anything to him. Her eyes didn’t move, and her hand didn’t stop its furious trembling. “Cindy?”
She shook her head furiously, closed her eyes for another moment, then opened them. She was clearly struggling for control; her eyes could barely focus on one thing, and her hands shook like something deep inside of her was grinding against itself. And maybe it was. “Thalia,” she whispered.
A chill stole over him. “The half-sister?” He was aware that he didn’t refer to the woman as his half-sister. It hurt too much to do so, no matter what it made anyone think of him.
She nodded.
“What’s happened?”
Cindy snapped the phone shut with a nervous little motion. “She’s dead,” the woman said. “Let me out.”
“No,” Alex said. “We need to go to the police.” He hit the intercom. “David?”
“No,” Cindy snapped back. She moved towards his hand, and he held her off without any real effort.
“Yes,” he said to her. “David, I need you to take us to 1 Police Plaza, please.”
“Absolutely,” David said. No change in his calm, even tone. There was a slight sway of the car as he changed lanes with the kind of force necessary for a driver in New York, and then the simple surge of motion. Alex flipped the intercom off again.
Cindy stared at him with eyes that flashed betrayal and anger. “You can’t do this to us. You think she’ll kill us any slower if the police get involved?”
“There have been two deaths in twenty four hours,” he said, using the same calm voice he’d learned when his father had bullied him into the board room under the guise of teaching him to be a better businessman. Really, his father had only ever intended to cow Alex into being his little copy. It had worked far better than he’d ever intended; he’d created a savvy businessman who refused to take someone else’s word for something he was capable of researching himself. “We are aware of a connection between them that the police are not. We need to let them take over. You need protection.”
Cindy shook her head, a kind of quiet sadness playing over her features. “You don’t understand,” she said quietly. “Your family owns everything. If Olivia wants us dead, it’ll happen. I was a fool to even come to you.” She laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “I wouldn’t care, if it weren’t for the twins. They’re just babies. Do what you can to protect them, all right?”
“Stop this,” Alex said. “I can’t protect them by myself.”
She shook her head sadly, and she wouldn’t say another word. The car stopped, and David came around to open the door. “Please,” she said, as Alex set one foot out. “Please. Don’t do this. They won’t understand. The children don’t even know. They were adopted. They have no idea what they’re caught up in. I can’t—I don’t want to turn their lives upside down like that. I don’t want the media to know who they are. Philip hadn’t even managed to notice them yet. Please. Let someone grow up without his influence. We’ll take care of this ourselves.” Her hand closed over his arm, a white band of steel around his darker wrist. “Please.”
He glanced up at David, at the impassive, professional stare. The man wasn’t looking into the car, wasn’t looking at them at all. He felt the pleading in Cindy’s voice. He sighed, resignedly. He didn’t know, not for sure. And the woman was right. Olivia was not the kind of person who would be pursued by the police, not in New York City. He needed to figure out Philip’s journal and go to the police with hard evidence. Nothing else would make any kind of difference.
He pulled his foot back inside the car. David blinked twice, a little fast, and then closed the door. Alex glanced at his phone; it was 8:30. “I have a meeting at nine,” he said. “You have until then to convince me we can fix this without the police being involved.”
“Thank you,” she said. Her eyes gleamed.
All he could do was hope and pray that he was making the right choice.