Chapter Twenty-Five
“You’re late.” Eaton slurped a noodle into his mouth, his appetite undeterred by the antiseptic smell outside Lena’s hospital room. “She’s already asleep for the night.”
“Damn.” Alexi gripped the new deck of cards and Russian chocolates—Lena’s favorites—tighter. “I was catching up on work.” Taking the weekend off had been worth it, but he’d definitely paid the price. “How did she seem today?”
“The usual.” Morales, who’d been standing next to Eaton, pushed off the wall. “Tired. In pain. She wondered where you were and what was happening with Winslow Industries. Tim the orderly was nice enough to take your place when we played cards. You seem well rested, though. Have a nice weekend?”
A swell of fury hit. And not because Morales was purposely trying to irritate him. Lena was only in her sixties. Too young to fucking die.
This weekend had cooled the hottest of his rage, but now he was suddenly on edge again. Fucking pissed at the world and not sure how to bend it to his will. “Any news from her doctor?”
“Nothing positive.”
“What about leads on Paul and Don Pierson?”
“Even less.”
Alexi’s eyes sunk shut. He didn’t do well with helpless. Or with failure. Yet that’s exactly what he felt like he was offering up these days.
“You’re screwed, aren’t you?” Morales’s question dropped without warning.
Alexi’s eyelids popped open. “What the hell does that mean, mudak?”
“I’ll admit to being an asshole as long as you admit to having a major problem,” challenged Morales. “It’s a shit storm right now with half the board piling on the sympathy train for Lily Bennett, the police questioning us about the exact nature of your relationship with your rival, and business as usual nowhere to be found—and yet you were sporting a shit-eating grin as you came down the hall. Over the woman who’s causing you all the problems in the first place. Where the hell do you see this going?”
Alexi was getting very sick of that question. “I’ll figure it out.”
“I get the feeling Lena knows something’s up.”
“I hope you told her things were proceeding as planned.”
Morales stepped into his face. “I thought we always agreed we were assholes, but never liars.”
“You wouldn’t be lying.” Alexi gripped the stack of cards tighter. “I recently added four board members to our side. Closed several outside lucrative deals. Tripled our bonuses this year.” He flicked a piece of lint from his suit. “It may not be business as usual, but I’m still on fire.”
A phone chirped.
Happy for the distraction, Alexi pulled his from his pocket. Eaton and Morales did the same.
Not his.
Alexi flipped his back over—and caught Morales’s raised eyebrow. “Hoping for anyone in particular?”
Alexi ignored the smug bastard. Then his own phone did chirp. You busy?
Morales and Eaton absorbed every detail.
He didn’t give a damn.
30 min, he typed, I’ll come to you.
“What if Lena wakes up?” Eaton’s expression was deliberately blank.
“I’ll come back.”
No one said a word, but the hallway thickened with censure.
Fuck them. Things had gotten complicated. But he’d figure it out.
Once he did himself.
Fucking Russell Winslow. The man had destroyed one woman Alexi cared for and saved another.
The craziest part? If not for Russell’s failure with Anastasia, the pathetic excuse for a father and a man would never have been looking to atone, never seen Lily under Francoise’s thumb and decided to make amends by reaching out and saving her.
If that hadn’t happened, the Lily Bennett he knew—the one with all that fire and sweet vulnerability—would have never existed, her light buried under the bruises and abuse of an asshole lucky to already be dead, or he’d be suffering untold agony.
The tangled web of it all choked Alexi.
He rubbed at his chest again. Still in one piece. So why the hell did it feel split in two? His past, his present, his future at war. His loyalties increasingly divided.
The only time he felt at peace when he was inside his rival, everything else forgotten.
Which made him wonder what the hell he was doing still standing in this fluorescent hallway.
“A pleasure as always.” He offered a one-finger salute to his friends and turned around.
“Wait.” Eaton laid a hand on his forearm. “I’ve got news.”
The hair at the back of Alexi’s neck prickled. “Tell me.”
“Someone else knows about Lily Bennett’s past and they’re trying to sell it to the highest media bidder.” Eaton’s words left him in a rush. “They’re pitching it as stuff no one knows. Drugs, violence, love triangle. The kind of tale everyone would want to read—and could destroy a promising CEO career.”
“Shit.” Everything inside Alexi stilled.
“It will turn the tide in your favor once and for all—and it doesn’t even have to come from you.”
“Kill it.” He didn’t hesitate. “That’s not the way I intend to win.”
“Kill it?” His CFO looked like he was about to upchuck. “Has he”—his gaze shifted to Morales—“has he actually grown a conscience?”
“I’d look lower than the cerebral cortex for your explanation.”
“Watch it,” Alexi warned.
“Oh, I’m watching,” said Morales. “I just never asked for a front-row seat to your destruction.”
“You’re making too much of this.”
“Says the man who starts salivating like some Pavlovian dog when his phone pings.”
An ominous silence fell. Alexi’s gaze locked with the two pain-in-the-asses who drove him crazy, but who’d been there through his darkest moments. His blood family might have been shit, but he’d found a better version in these men—and Lena. Up until now, nothing had torn them apart.
But Lily had no one.
“Rag on me all you want,” he said through gritted teeth. “Just get the article killed. And, Goddamn it, let’s find out who’s behind it. I want names. I’m sick of being one step behind whoever else is trying to take my rival down.”
“Is it just lust?” Eaton’s tone was a sad mix of hopeful and bewildered. “Maybe it’s just a case of insane lust. The woman is gorgeous.”
Alexi let himself hope. It would be fucking easier. Simple. Uncomplicated. Safe.
“No,” he said at last, never one to lie, especially to these two. “It’s not just lust.” It was the worst, most illogical act in the world, but he’d fallen hard.
His confession hit with the subtly of an atomic bomb.
“Son of a bitch.” Morales threw his hands in the air. “From the moment you saw her at that charity event years ago, you looked like someone slammed you in the solar plexus. You didn’t even notice it was Russell Winslow standing by her side until it was too late. I fucking knew you had a thing for her even then.”
Maybe, deep inside, Alexi had known it, too. Maybe that’s why the second a year was up and the minimum acceptable mourning period had passed, he’d crashed into her life snarling and snapping—until he’d gotten exactly what he wanted. Her, in his arms. Looking at him in that throat-gripping, terrifying, irresistible way. With trust and hope in her gorgeous, emerald eyes. As if he could matter to her. As if he could be enough.
Only he couldn’t be. Not if he wanted to be enough for Lena, too.
Morales was right. He really had screwed himself good.
“This is no time to rehash the past. What’s done is done.” Ever practical, Eaton berated Morales while stuffing another noodle into his mouth. “Let’s figure out options.”
“He screws over Lena,” offered Morales.
Alexi shot him a warning glare. “Not happening.”
“Then you screw over Lily Bennett. I vote for that one.”
“I vote for coming over there and kicking your ass.” Alexi lunged closer.
“You can try.” Morales closed the gap.
Eaton slid between them. “I vote you both stop acting like idiots.” He slammed a palm on each of their chests. “Obviously, no one is screwing Lena over, but maybe if you talk to her? Maybe she’d be okay with the company remaining in the Winslow fold if they agreed to pay her restitution?”
“I doubt it,” snapped Morales. “She wasn’t for that when Russell offered up that option years ago. I can’t see her accepting it now. She hates the whole family and the way they profited from her misery and her family estate. She won’t settle for anything less than having it back in full.”
Alexi had to agree. All she had left in her life was the dream of getting her family company back.
Plus, it would be at least a couple years before Lily turned enough profit to be able to dole out payments. A couple years that Lena didn’t have.
The weight on his chest grew heavier. He really should have kept his hands off Lily Bennett from the start. Stayed away from that damn memorial service instead of swaggering in like a cocky a-hole who assumed he could take what he wanted and get away scot-free.
“Fine.” Eaton’s no-nonsense tone slapped Alexi back to the present. “What about your rival? Any chance she’ll give it up for an obscene amount of money? I know it will mean the loss of her position and the money that goes along with Russell’s estate, but you could replace it for her.”
“Except I can’t replace the legitimacy that goes with it. Or gloss over the fact that she’ll be casting aside the promise she made to Russell to see his legacy realized.”
“Does she want legitimacy or does she want you?” sniped Morales.
It was a good question.
A high-pitched beep erupted from the nurses’ station down the hall before Alexi could respond.
A white blur rushed by. Then another.
Together, the nurses shoved open a recognizable door and sprinted inside.
The orderly Tim stumbled out.
“What’s going on?” Dread slid through Alexi, the sickening familiarity of the scene leaving an acidic taste in the back of his throat.
“It’s Lena,” said the man. “Something’s wrong.”
Alexi bolted through the door.