When I got home that evening after the ‘family meeting’, Zoey hadn’t returned yet. So, in honor of it being her first day at work, I decided to do something I almost never do: cook.

Having a twin brother who possesses a preternatural gift and singular obsession for food preparation, I’ve never much bothered with learning my way around the kitchen. I’m able to microwave things, and I’m excellent at ordering takeout, so it’s not like I starve, but I try to stay away from things like recipes or stoves. I’ll never be as good at cooking as David, I figured, so why try?

But tonight felt like a good night to give it a shot, and maybe it would buy me a few boyfriend points I could trade in for Zoey’s mercy when I told her the charges against Angelica had been dropped. That was the plan, anyway.

But like so many of my clever plans, this one didn’t quite pan out. I was only trying to make spaghetti and garlic bread. I figured I shouldn’t get too ambitious, but as soon as I had one pot boiling with pasta, one pot simmering with sauce, and bread under the broiler, I quickly got overwhelmed. Within moments I had ignited the bread and over cooked the spaghetti into a gummy, nasty mess. Meanwhile, the sauce overheated, boiled, and splattered explosively all over the place like I’d gone all ‘American psycho’ on a family of tomatoes. It was carnage.

“Oh. Wow,” Zoey said, breezing into the kitchen as I was running around like an idiot, opening windows to release the stink of burned bread and trying to turn off the smoke detector at the same time, “would you like some help there?”

She didn’t look impressed, but she did look amused. It was all I could do to stand helplessly and stare at her, looking so beautiful and polished and laughing at me while I floundered in my tomato-y disaster-zone. Eventually I regained my sanity and nodded.

“I tried to cook,” I said sadly, “it didn’t work out.”

She continued laughing while she helped me to clean up.

“You know,” she teased gently, “as a man who flies spaceships, I would have thought making some pasta would be pretty easy for you.”

“It always looks easy when David does it,” I replied, trying not to get pouty. “Thank you for helping to clean it up. I ordered Chinese food when it was clear this wasn’t going to work out.”

Zoey laughed again, looking at me far more affectionately than I would have expected given the mess I’d made.

“You’re cute,” she said, kissing me on the forehead.

Cute? Puppies are cute. That really hadn’t been what I’d been going for… I would have preferred romantic, thoughtful, cultured, and debonair, but fuck it. Cute works. As long as she wasn’t mad at me.

I smiled at her weakly.

“How was your first day?” I asked as I continued to scrub the remaining red goo off my cabinet doors.

Zoey grinned. “You have no idea. I’ve got the biggest story ever to tell you about.”

“I’m glad it went well,” I said honestly, “because I’ve got terrible news. My uncle Robert engineered a way to get Angelica’s trespassing charges dropped.”

I figured it was better just to come right out and say it. To my shock and relief, Zoey shrugged.

“That doesn’t matter,” she said, “because I’ve got a source that says Angelica Hunt murdered Albert Hunt, and that was what Oleg used to blackmail her. The whole abusive romance thing was a lie.”

I froze from where I’d been about to wipe away some more sauce from the countertop.

“What?” I managed.

Zoey grinned before she repeated herself, “I said, I’ve got a source and evidence that Angelica killed Albert and then Oleg blackmailed her into everything. They were never a couple.”

I somehow found my way around the kitchen island and onto one of the barstools as I tried to wrap my mind around what Zoey was telling me.

“Who’s the source?” I asked.

“I’m not ethically supposed to share the source’s identity,” she replied mysteriously, and I frowned in frustration. “It’s Tara,” she admitted a second later, “but you have to promise to never tell anyone.”

I nodded distantly.

“What’s the proof?” I asked next, thinking about every time I’d ever seen Angelica, Tara, and poor old, dead Albert.

“That’s the thing,” Zoey said with a sigh, “it’s not perfect. Tara has a recording she made of Oleg and Angelica having a conversation where Oleg is clearly blackmailing Angelica into getting him access to you and Durant Astronautics. He also alludes to a video Angelica wouldn’t want released that shows ‘what she did to her husband’. But it’s all implied. The actual video, which apparently was recorded on a hidden camera that Albert’s daughter Evelyn gave him, was only in Angelica and Oleg’s possession. We actually have the camera, but the memory card has been erased. That was one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. Our IT department, which is really just one dude named Larry, didn’t know how to recover deleted footage. Do you think Victor might know?”

Zoey’s long monologue was more than I was able to take in at one time. I made her repeat it in smaller chunks a few times, trying to catch up to her conclusions and thought process as quickly as I could. I could already feel a headache coming on.

Did I objectively think that Angelica Hunt was a bad person? Yes, absolutely. Without a doubt. One hundred percent. Did I objectively think that Angelica Hunt was a murderer? That was a different thing entirely.

Angelica and I grew up together. Our families were irrevocably intertwined in the symbiotic, sometimes parasitic relationship that large corporations have with politicians. My uncle Alexander often called Angelica’s father, Senator Ellis, our family pet. It was pretty much true, but it meant that our families were so close I could remember when Angelica was born. I’d been in kindergarten, and remembered the very long, very boring baptism I’d been forced to attend. She was a bratty, spoiled little witch from the very start. Her little sister, Clara, was less attractive than Angelica, but a billion times more pleasant. I’d always tried to avoid Angelica, and thankfully she mostly left me alone.

When she’d married Albert Hunt a few years back, I’d been present, along with the rest of my extended clan. Their wedding had been exceedingly uncomfortable. Angelica looked great, but there’s nothing quite as disturbing as watching a twenty-eight-year-old woman and an eight-eight-year-old man kissing at the altar. She was obviously marrying him for the money. Angelica only had to wait a couple of a years for nature to take its course with Albert.

Could Angelica’s patience have run out? I didn’t want to believe that the blond bouncing baby I’d seen christened would murder her husband in cold blood, but yeah, I could believe it. Someone with no empathy was capable of anything given the proper motivation.

“You really think she did it?” I asked Zoey, watching her face carefully for any shred of doubt.

Zoey frowned, “Angelica? I don’t know. I do know that Tara’s audio recording proves that the story Angelica’s been trying to sell about her being a poor battered woman is a lie. I believe that Tara believes that Angelica killed Albert. I want to figure out about the bear.”

“What bear?” I asked, confused. I hadn’t remembered a bear in the story at all. This story was getting exponentially more bizarre.

“The teddy bear… oh I forgot to mention earlier, the hidden camera is one of those nanny cams that looks like a toy,” Zoey replied after giggling at my expression, “you thought I was talking about a literal bear, didn’t you?”

“I honestly have no idea what to think,” I admitted, running my hands through my hair. My head was spinning.

The doorbell rang then, startling us both. Thankfully it was just the Chinese food and not Angelica or a bear or anything else life or death. We sat down at the table and tried to eat but ended up just staring across from each other with chopsticks in our hands.

“It’s a lot to take in, huh?” Zoey said, smiling and shaking her head. “I’ve had all day to work through it, and I still feel really strange about the whole situation. But the more I think about it, the more I think it makes sense.”

“Yeah,” I admitted, “it definitely would explain a few things. Especially about the relationship between Oleg and Angelica. I just couldn’t believe that she was in some sort of abusive relationship with him. She’s been the abuser and not the victim in every interpersonal relationship I’ve ever see her have. If he hit her, I’d expect her to have him murdered.”

“I feel slightly guilty admitting this, since I think women should be believed when they come forward with allegations of abuse, but I agree,” Zoey said, looking sheepish, “if it was anyone else but Angelica, I’d give her the benefit of the doubt. But not her.”

“Don’t feel guilty,” I told her, “because the more I think about this, the more I think it might be true. Remember, I’ve known Angelica forever. I’ve seen her do really awful things to people just because it’s funny to her, or because she wants something they had, or because she’s jealous. I told you before, she doesn’t recognize that other people are real people. If that isn’t the definition of a murderous mind, I don’t know what is.”

Zoey nodded, delicately scooping up a lo mein noodle between her chopsticks with her nimble fingers and setting it her mouth. She looked thoughtful as she chewed. I never thought watching someone using chopsticks to eat noodles could be sexy, but she managed it.

“I need to figure out if I can get the footage off the teddy bear. And I need to get in contact with Evelyn Hunt,” Zoey finally said after she swallowed, “Can you lend me some of Victor’s time to try and get the footage?”

Another thought, a pragmatic one at last, broke through the haze of my confusion.

“Zoey,” I said carefully, “Durant Industries owns The Philadelphia Monitor.”

She looked confused.

“Yeah,” she replied after a moment, “I know. Thank you.”

I swallowed before I continued. This was going to go over a thousand times worse than the trespassing changes.

“And Durant Industries is owned by my family.”

“Right…” Zoey said, her eyebrows creeping together. I could tell by her expression that she had no idea what I was about to say, which only made it worse.

“I’m heir to one quarter of the business,” I continued, “and I sit on the board. Senator Ellis also sits on the Durant Industries board. He’s important to our family in a lot of ways. Angelica is his favorite daughter.”

“So?” Zoey said finally, “I don’t see how any of that matters.”

I took a deep breath.

“It matters because my family is going to want to protect Angelica for her father’s sake.”

She laughed in disbelief; a short, humorless little bark. She thought I was joking.

“Sure,” she said indulgently, “I mean I get why they would do that before. Trespassing is embarrassing and answering questions about the whole Oleg thing would have been unpleasant for her. But this is murder.”

Zoey clearly had no idea how my family operated. No one accumulates as much generational wealth and influence as we had by being one hundred percent good. My uncles Richard and Alexander were living proof, and Alexander III, David, and I weren’t far behind.

“Zoey,” I pleaded, “I hate that I’m going to have to do this, but this story can’t happen. It can’t come out.”

Her lips parted in disbelief.

“You’re kidding,” she said, her voice rising in intensity with each word, “you have to be kidding. I can’t just kill a story because it’s politically inconvenient for the parent company of my employer. Is that what you’re asking me to do? On day one of my job you want me to become corrupt?”

I could feel a storm approaching in Zoey’s mood. This whole situation made me feel ill. I said nothing and stared down at my food in shame.

“I’m sorry Zoey,” I said softly. “This is just how things work in my world.”

“I don’t live in your world. I live in the real world and I can’t do my job if I don’t have the freedom to report the truth,” Zoey said. Her face had taken on a hardness and determination that frightened me, “I’m not just going to be a pawn for Durant Industries.”

‘That’s not what I’m asking!’ I tried to say, but it didn’t even get out of my mouth.

“That is what I’m asking you to do, isn’t it?” I said instead. I really couldn’t do it. If the choice was between asking Zoey to sacrifice her principals or losing my family’s support, “I can’t ask you not to run the story. Forget I said anything.”

“I wish I hadn’t told you,” Zoey replied, looking miserable. “If I hadn’t told you, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

She was right. I wished she hadn’t told me. Because now that I knew, I also knew what my family would want me to do: cover everything up to protect Senator Ellis.

“What do we do?” I asked her, “I can’t stop you from running this story. It’s news. I get it. It’s big news. But it’s very bad news for my family by extension.”

Zoey sighed, poking her food as if it had suddenly turned into garbage. She’d only eaten a few bites. She shook her head in confusion.

“I don’t want to cause problems for you,” Zoey said, and when she raised her eyes to me they were full of such a sweet, loving expression that I was certain I didn’t deserve her. “But I don’t want Angelica to get away with murder. I have to do something, even if its…”

Zoey trailed off, biting her lip. She’d thought of something. I watched the idea grow on the surfaces of her face in fascination. I could almost hear the wheels turning behind her eyes.

“Nathan,” she finally said, her expression turning resolute, “I have an idea.”

“I’m not going to like it, am I?” I asked warily.

“I’m not sure,” she replied, “I know I don’t like it. What if I research the story, the whole thing. I chase the story as best I can, but instead of publishing it, I give to someone else. Another paper. So, the truth gets out, but your family can’t be mad at you.”

It was my turn to be shocked and confused.

“You’d give it away?” I asked, “like, to a competitor for free? Isn’t that bad business?”

“Yes. It will sell a lot of papers,” she said, shrugging, “but I’d rather have the truth come out somewhere, wouldn’t you?”

I considered her proposition.

“Ok,” I said, warming to the idea, “that could work. I’m sorry Zoey. I really am. I know I was asking you to compromise your ideals.”

Zoey smiled and reached across the table to grab my hand.

“That’s sweet but you shouldn’t worry,” she said, “Now I know never to tell you if I’m working on a story that so much as touches on Durant Industries. Trust me, the next time a story this big comes along, you’ll be reading about it in the Monitor, not hearing about it from me. I’m not going to be controlled by Durant Industries. Ever.”

I could see on her face that Zoey was one hundred percent serious. As frightening as it was that she might be a real liability to me one day, I also respected her for it. I wouldn’t want her to just roll over and accept my corporate censorship, and clearly, she wouldn’t ever do that. The look on her face dared me to say another thing on the topic.

“Great,” I said sarcastically, “what have I gotten myself into?”

“You got into bed with the press. You really should have thought of that before making a gossip columnist your live-in girlfriend,” Zoey’s smirk was unsympathetic.

“Yeah, but you’re so cute!” I replied, smiling. We were going to be ok. “And you aren’t a gossip columnist any more. It’s worse than that, you’re a newspaper editor with the power to take down a senator’s daughter. For murder.”

“I’m not there yet,” Zoey admitted, “I need to get confirmation on some of the points in Tara’s story. I need to make sure that Evelyn Hunt will confirm about the nanny cam, and I need to see if I can get any footage off the deleted memory card.”

“That’s right,” I answered, “you wanted to borrow Victor, didn’t you? I have a feeling he’ll be all too happy to help figure out a way to take Angelica down if he can. He really did not appreciate someone getting through his security protocols twice. I’ve seen him pull files off a computer that got run over by a truck before. No promises, but if anyone can do some technological wizardry on the memory card, it’s Victor.”