@BettencourtBets: Looks like someone has a thing for Hedgies! Who has better odds-our IVy or the hockey-playing heir to Bull Capital?

Tristan

Reina flinched, the light in her eyes immediately extinguished by the lurid headline, then collapsed onto the seat cushion as if the weight of it was too much to bear. I wanted to believe that her reaction was simply shock, and not guilt for being caught. That the images had been grossly misinterpreted. I wanted to trust every word that came out of her mouth. But could pictures really lie? I might as well have been staring at her through a broken glass window, a baseball at my feet and a catcher’s mitt on her hand. “Do you want to revise your answer?”

She shook her head, slowly. “No. You can call him, Tristan. Call Bryce. He’ll tell you that nothing happened. I swear, you have to believe me.”

I crossed my arms. Was I an idiot to even listen to her explanation? Maybe. Probably. But Reina St. James wasn’t an easy woman to walk away from. Even now, beyond furious, beyond betrayed, even now I wanted to gather her into my arms and kiss her until the world beyond our mingled breath ceased to exist.

Somehow I managed to stand my ground, studying her expression for any sign of deception. My gut told me Reina wasn’t lying, at least not about sleeping with Bryce. But there was definitely something she was holding back. Something she’d been keeping from me since the moment we met. Even in bed, Reina had never completely opened up to me. And I was tired of groping in the dark. The reason I couldn’t trust her was that she didn’t trust me, not yet, anyway. That had to change. Now.

“Jesus Christ,” I said through clenched teeth. “Stop hiding behind half-truths and blatant omissions. If there’s something I should know, tell me. Mind-reading isn’t a skill I’ve mastered yet.”

She released a pent-up breath, displacing a lock of hair that had rested on her cheek. “You know, I tried to talk to you on Sunday, before Elise showed up. And then again last night, but Bryce called. And coming in here this morning, I intended to tell you everything about me. Everything. Even knowing it would probably be the end of us. I don’t want to lie to you, or keep secrets from you. Not anymore. Only now, because I couldn’t navigate that damned set of stairs, I’m not able to tell you about it on my own terms.”

“Make me believe you, Reina. Because I want to. Hell, I’ve never wanted anything so badly in my life. But you’ve got to meet me halfway.” Anguish lent a husky timbre to my voice. “Reina, fuck the petty bullshit. I don’t care how or why. The truth is the truth, no matter whose terms it’s on.”

“I guess.” She bit down on her lower lip, silent for a minute before meeting my eyes. “Okay, here goes. Gerald Van Horne is my father, at least biologically. And Gayle Van Horne is really Gayle St. James Van Horne. My mother.”

I blinked. That was the last thing I expected to hear. “What are you talking about? That’s crazy, I practically grew up with his kids. And until a month ago, I’d never heard of you.” My head felt unwieldy atop my shoulders, bulging with everything I’d learned in the past twenty-four hours—Bull Capital’s encroachment on Millennial, Van Horne’s first bite at Bettencourt, the Page Six headline . . . and now Reina’s admission. “I thought you said your father was dead.”

“The man who raised me died when I was a senior in high school. Van Horne is my biological father. Unfortunately, he’s very much alive.”

I struggled to connect the dots. “So, Bryce is your brother? Why didn’t he say anything yesterday?” My voice rose as anger mingled with confusion. “Were both of you lying to me?”

“No!” The word emerged as a yelp, too pained to be a lie.

I interrupted before she could say any more. “Why didn’t you tell me your mother was married to Van Horne?”

“You didn’t ask. What does it matter, anyway?” Reina sputtered. “She walked out when I was barely a teenager. For years we hardly spoke at all. But ever since my dad died, out of guilt I’m sure, she calls me once a week or so. Our relationship is strained, at best.”

“What kind of a relationship do you have with Gerald Van Horne?”

“As far as he’s concerned, none.”

I raked a hand through my hair. “How the fuck can I believe you?” There was no anger left in my tone, only bewilderment. Where could we go from here?

“Bryce doesn’t know, Tristan. No one knows, except Van Horne and my mother.” Tears glistened on her fringe of eyelashes, rolling one by one down her cheeks. “And believe me, he’d deny it with his dying breath.”

I was rooted to the floor by shock. “But why? I don’t understand.”

I watched Reina wrestle with whether or not to tell me the whole truth, and I forced myself to stay quiet. I could live with anything, except more secrets. If she didn’t trust me enough to be honest, there was no point in continuing our conversation. Or our relationship. And I couldn’t make that decision for her.

My heartbeat picked up as the seconds ticked by. Reina was straddling the fence, and for the life of me, I couldn’t predict which side she would choose.

Her words emerged trembling and unsteady, as they filled the air between us. “Tristan, I’m not like you. I’m the result of a tawdry affair between Van Horne and my mother years ago. He wasn’t willing to end things with his first wife at the time. He and my mom picked up where they left off about ten years ago and he agreed to divorce his wife and marry her, but only if she left the proof of their affair—me—behind.” Reina shrugged. “So she did. I’m their dirty little secret, and it looks like I will be for the rest of my life.”

Reina’s last sentence finally propelled me across the room and I sank into the cushion beside her, pulling her into my arms. Her story was too raw to be a lie. And knowing Van Horne, entirely plausible. “There’s nothing dirty about you, Reina. And Van Horne is a sleazy asshole.”

She resisted my embrace, pulling back. “I was so naïve to think I could get a job in his backyard. That he’d allow me to work on Wall Street, to mingle even just slightly with his circle. I should have known, and I hate that I’ve dragged you into my mess.” Her eyes bore into mine. “What he’s doing to Bettencourt is his way of sending a warning to me.”

I fought to wrap my head around everything Reina was telling me. There were too many points of contact, too much overlap. Reina, me, Millennial, Bull Capital, Van Horne and his three kids who I’d known my whole life. Reina’s admission was like an underground earthquake that led to a tsunami capable of destroying everything in its path. My entire life. But the origin was undeniable.

“Profiting from revenge—it’s classic Van Horne. Except it’s not going to work this time.” I glanced toward the image still on my screen. “I’ll bet he’s behind that too.”

“Yep. He’s found a way to sabotage Millennial, get Bettencourt on the cheap, and show me who’s boss all in one fell swoop.” She nodded. “It can’t be a coincidence that someone took photos of me at the exact time I lost my balance—twice in one night. He probably put a tail on me the day I moved to New York.”

I nodded. Van Horne was going after Reina hard. But it was still tough to digest. “So have you ever actually met him? Ever had a conversation where he either accepted or denied your relationship?”

“Well, I came face-to-face with him as a little girl, purely by accident, and he didn’t exactly welcome me with open arms.”

“So then, how do you know for sure?”

“After the father who actually raised me got sick, I ordered a kit online to test my DNA against his. It wasn’t a match, of course. But my mother told me that if I revealed the truth of my paternity, Van Horne would divorce her. And because of their prenup, she’d be left with nothing.” Reina reached for a tissue. “We don’t have much of a relationship, but she loves him. If I destroyed their marriage, she’d never forgive me. It’s just not worth it.”

“So that’s it? Van Horne gets away with being the world biggest douchebag?”

She smiled at me through wet, spiky lashes. “He’s done a pretty good job of fooling everyone.”

In financial circles, Van Horne was well known for his ruthlessness, but it was a trait he shielded from public view through generous philanthropic donations and the efforts of a highly paid publicist. “So you’ve only been face-to-face with him once in your life?”

“Actually, there was one other time.”

“Did you deck him?”

This earned a low chuckle. “That would have been quite the scene. He was giving the commencement speech at my graduation. Want to know what his opening line was?”

I sighed. “Probably not.”

“Greed is good . . . but generosity is better.”

Blood rushed through my veins, hot and angry. “Generosity? I guess no one ever told him that charity begins at home.”

Reina bristled. “I’m no one’s charity case, Tristan.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just—if you don’t support the people closest to you, what difference does the rest of it make?” I placed my hand on Reina’s knee, needing the feel of her skin beneath my palm. “Aren’t you angry? Both at him and your mom?”

“I was. For a long time I was furious. But anger is a useless emotion unless you channel it into something productive. So I used the energy it gave me to study hard, get into an Ivy League school, land a well-paying job with a prestigious company. Just because I’m not a Van Horne, it doesn’t mean I’m a nobody.”

I laughed, my thumb swiping her bare thigh. “How could you ever be a nobody when you’re everything to me?”

She brushed away a wayward blond strand, her voice still hesitant. “So you’re not mad at me for keeping the truth from you?”

“A little. But I understand why you did.”

“You don’t think I’m a social climber?”

I rubbed at the crease in my forehead. “No, of course not. What would make you—” and then I recalled my scathing indictment of Elise. I’m such an asshole. “Reina, what I said about Elise. None of that applies to you. Not a word.”

She shook her head sadly. “But it does.”

“Maybe the lying part, but there’s no need for any more lies between us. You’re smart and driven, the complete antithesis of a social climber. And as for not knowing the first thing about family, you know what family shouldn’t be too well. Not the same thing.”

My heart lifted as a tremulous smile tugged at Reina’s lips. “And I believe you about that, too,” I said, nodding toward my computer.

“Yeah,” she released a shaky breath. “Making out with my brother is not exactly how I want to be introduced to the family.”

“What did you think of him?”

“It was pretty cool to be hanging out with Bryce. Even if he thinks I’m just his friend’s drunk girlfriend.”

I laughed. “Yeah, you were hogging the champagne bottle.”

“I was nervous!” Reina closed her eyes, shaking her head. “But you’re right, not my finest moment.”

I planted a kiss on her temple. “I wouldn’t worry about it—Bryce isn’t exactly a choirboy. But your sister’s another story.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Wendy?”

“No, not Wendy. Celeste.”

Reina’s face softened, a wistful gleam in her eyes. “Celeste,” she repeated. “God, I would love to meet her.”

“I’m sure it can be arranged.” I reached for my phone.

“Tristan, no.” She shook her head. “Just because you know the truth doesn’t mean you can tell anyone else.”

“You don’t need to hide who you are. You have a right to get to know your siblings.”

“And hopefully I will, one day. But I’m not going to torpedo the life my mother built for herself. It would mean that she left me for nothing. And I couldn’t stand the thought of that.”

I sighed. “Okay. But Van Horne’s an aging bully who has somehow managed to fool almost everyone into thinking he’s a hedge funder with a heart of gold, a role model for everyone on Wall Street. I can’t let that slide. He’s not just hurting you, he’s coming after me and my family’s business too. It’s about time someone stands up to him.”

I could have framed the smile that lit up Reina’s face. “Why do I think that someone is going to be you?” she asked.

“Nope.” I threaded my fingers into her hair and pulled her face toward mine. “It’s going to be us.” Reina didn’t need Gerry or Gayle, she had me. I was all the family she’d ever need.

Reina

Us. God, I loved that word. The anger that had been sizzling around Tristan like a magnetic force field had evaporated, and his blue eyes were as soft and warm as cashmere. I’d never been an us before, not really. And if it meant Tristan would look at me like that for the rest of our lives, I was all in.

Except for one thing. My father was my problem. Van Horne was only going after Bettencourt because of me. If he didn’t want me as his daughter, fine. I could live with that. Had been living with it and doing just fine, thank you very much. But if I let him knock me around and go after the man I loved, I would never truly be free of him.

For years I’d believed that I was just unworthy. But now I knew the truth. Van Horne was a brilliant financier, but he was a shitty father. I didn’t need him, and he didn’t deserve me.

I kissed Tristan back, my body responding the way it did whenever he touched me—immediately and passionately. I groaned into his mouth, arching my spine and pressing into his chest.

He was the first to break away, resting his forehead against mine, our breaths mingling between open mouths. “This might be the one time I regret having glass walls.”

“Me too.” Maybe sex wouldn’t fix things, but I craved a few minutes of nirvana. A physical reminder of why I needed to take a stand and fight for my future. And Tristan’s. For the first time since walking into the office I took a deep breath. And then I choked on it.

Drawn by a flicker of light from Tristan’s computer screen, my eyes lit on the incriminating photos available for anyone to see. Again, the sight slammed into me like a two-by-four to the stomach. Jesus. “Everyone out there must hate me.”

God bless him, Tristan shook his head. “I don’t think they’re emotionally invested in my sex life, Reina. This morning we’re gossip, but tomorrow we’ll be old news. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

On the table between us, Tristan’s phone buzzed to life. Bryce. Tristan’s jaw tightened as he answered the call on speakerphone. “Fuck, man. I just saw Page Six. I didn’t touch your girl, X. You know that, right?”

Tristan sighed. “I know. I’m here with Reina now.”

Van Horne? I mouthed the name, wondering if Bryce knew his father was the one behind the scandalous piece.

Tristan shook his head, and I realized he wouldn’t put his friend in the position of having to defend his father.

Bryce turned his attention to me. “Hey, Reina, sorry about all this. Crazy that some photographer was just there waiting, huh?”

I eyed Tristan. “Yeah, crazy.”

“Listen, I have to head to the doctor’s now. I just wanted to call and make sure we were cool.”

“We are. Go get your shoulder taken care of, maybe Reina and I will make it to your next game.”

Bryce chuckled. “Yeah, maybe if we play our cards right we can make Us Weekly as the new face of polyamorous threesomes.”

Tristan’s lips twitched and I caught a flash of his dimple. “Always good to have a goal.”

As he put down the phone, I couldn’t help but feel like David gearing up for his date with Goliath. But I’d walk through fire if it meant keeping Gerald Van Horne’s hulking shadow away from Tristan. I’d lived under it for too long, and I wasn’t going to pull him into the shameful corner I’d allowed myself to get backed into. No more. If my father was going to such lengths to keep me locked up and hidden away, clearly he saw me as some kind of threat. It wasn’t much to go on, but I was going to use whatever leverage I could. Time for me to prove that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. I could fight dirty too.

Tristan

“As much as I’d love to stay in here all day, we have some damage control to do.”

Reina groaned. “Kyle is probably in a corner somewhere, breathing into a paper bag. I guess I should tell him about my background, too, just so he understands what’s really going on.”

“Kyle will be fine, and so will everyone else. You only need to tell him whatever you’re comfortable sharing, and I’ve never known him to betray a confidence.”

She gave a grateful smile. “Thanks.”

“Sure thing. We’re in this together, and we’re going to come out of it together.” I jerked my head toward the closed door. “And I’ll make sure everyone out there knows it.”

The smile disappeared. “Unfortunately they’re getting their messages from someone else too. Do you think the person behind @BettencourtBets is working with Van Horne or anyone at Bull Capital?”

That damned Twitter account again. Every time I saw the blue icon, I had an urge to break that bird’s neck. “I don’t know. But they know a lot more than they should, and their audience is growing.” I rolled my shoulders, making an effort to release the tension that crept in whenever I thought about the spy in our midst. “Don’t worry about it, though. Now that I’m sure you’re not the one working against us, I have our best tech guys on it. Shouldn’t be long now before we have a name.”

“What are you going to do when you find out who it is?”

I offered a wry smile. “I haven’t decided yet. I’ve been a little preoccupied thinking about someone else.” In response, she leaned in to me, close enough that I smelled the citrus notes of her shampoo. I opened my mouth, and words I’d been holding back burst through my lips. “Reina, as far as I’m concerned, you are my future. But if you don’t feel the same way, you need to tell me now.”

Her eyelids fluttered, bits of gold from each iris twinkling at me. If we lived a thousand years, I would never get tired of looking at them. “I do, but for the life of me I still don’t get why you’re putting everything in your life at risk for me. Because of me. Tristan, I’m so glad I finally came clean and told you all that I’ve been keeping from you. But now you’re free. You can walk away. You should walk away.” She shook her head, those beautiful eyes welling up. “You’re Mr. Perfect and I’m Miss Complicated. Your family has heirlooms, mine has secrets. We don’t belong together.”

I wiped away the tear shimmering on her cheek. “Did you ever play with tangrams as a kid?”

Reina responded with a puzzled look and shook her head again. “I don’t think so.”

“When I was little, I was obsessed with them. Completely low tech, but I could play with them for hours. You had a few basic shapes: triangles, squares, parallelograms. And there were cards with designs on them. Could be a house, a robot, maybe a dinosaur. The challenge was to take the basic shapes and turn them into something else entirely.”

“Sounds kind of familiar.”

“Before we met, that’s exactly how I felt. Like pieces, rather than a whole. And when we’re together, we make up something different than when we’re apart. Something better. Not perfect. Not complicated. Just better.”

Reina released a soft sigh, leaning into me. “I want to believe you.”

“And I want to love you. I already do, you know.” I lifted her chin with my fingertips, planted a soft kiss at the tip of her adorable nose. “See? We go together.”

“I love you too, Tristan. And that’s exactly why I should leave. Maybe if I go, Millennial won’t be at risk.”

Relief swept over me at her admission. We had something worth fighting for, and if there was anything I’d learned about Reina today, it was that she was a fighter. “Millennial’s a hedge fund—risk comes with the territory. And if you leave, I’d just hunt you down and drag you back.”

She opened her mouth, about to say something else. But there wasn’t time. Kyle knocked once and walked in. “Sorry to interrupt, guys, but we have a situation.”