EVERY NOW AND then, when I reached into my jewelry box, my fingers would brush the old paper napkin that still surrounded the small vials. I knew there was no reason to keep them; most of the Cytoxan was gone. Nonetheless, the tightly wrapped vials that I’d taken from the Harrington Clinic Distribution Center a lifetime ago remained. Travis and I both knew they were there, and we knew that there was no immediate threat or reason to keep them. Yet, for some reason they remained.
We’d talked about ways to dispose of them. It wasn’t like we could just throw them away. A smile fluttered across my face as I thought about how Travis rid me of the warehouse. If we would’ve been thinking at the time, we could’ve put the vials in the building before the explosion. Stewart’s chair was still there.
It didn’t take long for the police to rule that the blast was caused by a gas main break. Thankfully, the area was uninhabited and no one was injured. When the warehouse was declared a total loss, I had no trouble telling them to bulldoze the whole fucking place to the ground.
As I sat at my desk midmorning, I pushed those memories away and concentrated on our now. We were still in Miami: Travis wanted to run the Spas and Suites. Truthfully, he’d stepped into the role well.
“Mrs. Daniels, your mail is here,” Kristina said as she handed me the stack of letters.
“Thank you, Kristina. Have you seen Lisa?”
“Yes, ma’am, I can get her for you.”
I fumbled through the letters as Kristina left and Travis entered the room. Looking up, I became momentarily preoccupied with the way my husband’s tight shirt accentuated his chest and arms, as well as the way it tucked into his customary dark slacks. For only a second I thought about what was under those slacks, what was deep inside of me just this morning. By the time my eyes moved to his, his lopsided grin told me that I’d been caught. “Mrs. Daniels, may I help you?”
I reached out to hold his waist and looked up at his dark eyes. “I think you did this morning, twice as I recall.”
He shook his head. “Have you talked to your mother?”
Rolling my eyes, I said, “Yes, she called again. I’m glad she’s doing well, but I could do without the daily updates. I do think it was smart of them to make her go through rehab again as part of her parole. I mean, we know she was forced to drink the alcohol, but in some ways it’s like she’s starting all over.”
“She’s still a pain in the ass.”
I smiled and tilted my head, my gray eyes opened wide. “A bigger one than me?”
“Most days,” Travis replied, kissing the top of my head and pulling playfully away.
I looked back down at the mail and remembered something I’d read. “What’s happening with the Harrington Spas and Suites in London?”
“Nothing, don’t worry about it.”
I pursed my lips together. “I’m great with your taking over all of that. I mean, you worked beside Stewart and know a hell of a lot more about it than I do, but don’t shut me out.”
Travis sat down opposite the desk, his long legs folding as his large frame filled the chair. “I’m not shutting you out. Nothing’s happening. There was a big-assed summit, and they needed extra security. It’s over. Nothing happened.”
We both turned as Lisa entered. “Mr. and Mrs. Daniels, Kristina said you were looking for me?”
“Stop that,” Travis said, looking directly at Lisa.
Her suppressed grin made her blue eyes sparkle. “You know, I do it because I know it drives you crazy.”
“It does. It fucking pisses me off. My goddamned name is Travis. It was for fifteen years, and it didn’t suddenly change just because I’m fucking—”
Lisa put up her hands. “Stop. Way too much information.”
“Then call me Travis and I won’t give you the details of what happened this morning…” He winked at me. “…or last night or…”
“Travis, Travis, for Christ’s sake,” Lisa pleaded in surrender.
I shook my head, happy that we’d all made the transition as well as we had. “If you two are finished?”
Lisa turned toward me. “Yes, ma’am, your husband can be a real pain…”
“…in the ass, Lisa. Yes, I’m well aware.” Before Travis could speak, I turned my gray eyes toward him. His and Lisa’s friendship went way back. I didn’t trust him to not bring up a few of the ways I enjoyed him being a pain in the ass. Glaring, I warned, “Shut up.”
He dramatically pressed his lips together and lifted his brow.
I turned back to Lisa. “I wanted to be sure that you remembered Sheila Keene and Maura Craven were coming over today for lunch.”
“Yes, ma’am. Everything will be ready.”
“Thank you, Lisa.”
After she left the room, Travis leaned back and said, “Oh, I forgot. Today is the monthly widows’ club luncheon.”
I nodded. “It’s kind of weird now that I’m remarried and Maura’s seeing someone.”
“She is?” He lifted a brow. “I wonder if he has a pencil dick?”
I shrugged. “I’m glad I don’t know.”
“Sorry, Vik, I didn’t mean it…”
I waved him off. “No, it’s just, I’m glad that I don’t know. And Sheila’s doing better. I think she’s had the most difficult time. I mean, suicide is a tough pill for the wife to swallow.”
Travis nodded knowingly. “With all the shit going down at Craven and Knowles, after the CDC started investigating and the feds got involved. Shit, Senator Keene’s clean, shiny reputation suddenly got pretty fucked up. The Durantes didn’t fare much better.”
“I suppose I should feel as guilty about Robert as I do Parker. I mean, the more Robert kept threatening me, well…” I sighed. “…at least I know that Carlisle meant it when he said he’d be there for me.”
“The insulin overdose was genius,” Travis said.
I nodded. “Yeah, they officially called it an accident, so at least Sheila got the insurance money. But she’s confided that he did it on purpose. Apparently, he’d been diabetic for a long time, and she finds it hard to believe that he’d suddenly mess up his medication dosage.” I shook my head. “Sheila thinks that the scandal was all too much for him to handle. That’s why she’s been so immersed in the Harrington Society. She and Val have secured grants for Harrington Cancer Clinics in five different U.S. locations. They’ve been working on permits. Hopefully construction will begin soon.”
“You told me about that. I know you’ll be happy to not have Dr. Conway traveling overseas as much.”
“I will,” I agreed. “Hey, she’s your sister-in-law now, maybe you could call her Val or Valerie or something other than Doctor Conway?”
Travis grimaced. “I like your sister, I really do. I like her a lot more than I do your mom.”
I giggled.
“And,” he continued, “I respect her. I feel like Val isn’t enough for all she’s accomplished.”
I shrugged. “Whatever. There’s always Doc?”
“I like that. I can do Doc.” He stood. “I came in here to let you know I’m heading out. I have a few meetings with some investors. I’ve promised Carlisle and Niccolo that we’d continue to work together, but I’m working to make some more connections for them.” He leaned down and kissed me. “Legit connections. They’ve got a lot more legal shit happening than I ever realized. The prostitution shit was mostly the Durantes.
“I’ll tell you what. The Albinis are smart as hell. I think I’m learning as much from them as I did from Mr. Harrington.”
I wanted to tell him to call him Stewart, but damn, this name thing was a never-ending battle.
“I’ll see you tonight.”
He kissed me goodbye. “Have fun at your luncheon.”
With my mind still lingering on our morning workout, I looked at the letters from our new legal firm. Getting everything changed over from Craven and Knowles was taking for-fucking-ever. With the on-going investigation every document was read under a fucking microscope. I opened the letter addressed to me:
Dear Mrs. Victoria Daniels,
Enclosed please find the approved and verified copy of your late husband, Stewart Harrington’s, Last Will and Testament. I’m pleased to report that everything was as you assumed. The bulk of Mr. Harrington’s assets were bequeathed to you.
The only other individual specifically named by Mr. Harrington was Travis Daniels, Mr. Harrington’s only remaining blood relative. You will see that he was individually bequeathed ten percent of all cash assets. That did not include business holdings or investments.
As I’m sure you’re aware, since you and Mr. Daniels’ chose not to have a prenuptial agreement, the division of assets is no longer significant.
If our firm can be of any further assistance to you or Mr. Daniels, please do not hesitate to contact us.
Sincerely,
cc: Travis Daniels
I reached for the envelope addressed to him. It felt the same. I was sure it was his copy. I wasn’t shocked that Stewart had left money to Travis: the two were obviously close. What shocked me, surprised me, and fucking blew me away was that they were related. How? A fucking cousin?
Travis was thirty-nine. Stewart was fifty when he died. Travis couldn’t be Stewart’s son. Besides, their coloring was all wrong. Stewart was blonde with blue eyes. Travis had dark brown eyes and brown hair.
Then I thought about Val: her light brown hair and my long dark hair. Now that I knew the truth, I knew my hair and skin tone came from my father’s side of the family. We looked different because we had different fathers. Travis’ last name was Daniels, and Stewart’s was Harrington.
The only thing Travis had told me about his mother was that she was the woman with the twelve-year-old son: the one who was sucked into the Durante hell and the one whom Travis felt he righted by helping to expose their dealings. The only other thing I knew about her was that she was deceased. I was confident that Stewart didn’t share the same mother. He was raised in the lap of luxury with both of his parents.
As my mind searched for answers, more questions arose. Why didn’t one of them tell me? How had Travis been a part of my life ever since I met Stewart and I never knew that they were related? Why wouldn’t Travis tell me?
I got a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach. Travis had never mentioned his father. When I asked, he told me that he didn’t know him. Since I could relate, I never pushed it. But now I wondered if Travis and Stewart could have shared a father. Could Stewart’s father have been one of the Durantes’ friends? The whole thing made my stomach lurch. I didn’t want to imagine Travis’ mother with friends. A cool sheen of perspiration formed on my brow.
Travis had told me that he wasn’t honorable, but he’d also said he’d always been straight with me. I asked him if I could believe him and he’d told me that he didn’t know. What the fuck did that mean? If his father was the same as Stewart’s, could I possibly be nothing more than a way for him to get to Stewart’s money and power? Was that what he had planned all along?
I didn’t want to think like that. I couldn’t. I’d finally gotten my normal, as fucking normal as I could. I mean, I was a killer and as painful as that truth was, both Travis and I knew it. He didn’t know what I’d done to Stewart, but he knew about the others. I tried not to think about it… I refused to think about it…
Opening Travis’ envelope, I removed the letter, placed Stewart’s will back inside, and laid the envelope on the corner of my desk. As I watched both letters shred, I told myself, I would have my happily ever after. I fucking deserved it. I’d earned it, and I had no intentions of losing it. Karma could kiss my ass.