“Come see.”
With pride, Rosa helped Isla to the mirror. With the glow of copper and bronze, Isla’s complexion shimmered. Her eyes lined in dark green, with a sweep of brown, and ivory covered her lids. Isla’s hair was secured in a rich, dark topknot.
“Wow.”
“Not this.” Rosa pointed to Isla’s heart. “This is beauty. I see it. So does Reed.”
“My scars.”
“Strong souls,” Rosa said and gave her a small smile.
The statement stung Isla. Like stone, she said nothing. She didn’t move. Exposed, Isla swallowed down any sentiments to hide her emotions. But her heart posed a question to the gentlewoman: Can I keep you?
A knock came from the door. Rosa hurried to open it.
A tall, robust man with a shaved head and shiny, alabaster skin filled the doorway. “Dinner is ready.”
Rosa encouraged her to follow. “Go slow, Erik. She is in pain.”
He nodded and escorted Isla through a short, stone corridor. Barefoot, she walked light. Erik opened a dark-paneled door carved with palm trees and sunbursts.
Below a heaven of blue, trellises of wood and vines canopied the tile path, which led to a staircase. Flits of sunlight peeped through the leaves. A manicured lawn rolled beside them. She couldn’t see beyond the impending stairway.
Anxious about what lay at the bottom of the stairs, she slowed her pace. It was family, but Ellis was unpredictable, and he knew her secrets. It was one of the stipulations to marrying his son and becoming a Pierce. He allowed her to do what she wanted with Ronan as long as it didn’t interfere with family business. Isla was consumed with revenge and drawing it out over the years satisfied her greatly.
Each headline detailing Ronan’s failures drove her. Exposure of his financial indiscretions and his incompetence banished the Walkers from their elite country club and had them removed as board members at their church. Ronan’s money was filling the pockets of his attorney’s more with each passing year. Henry was smart and secured his portion of the company before Isla started her retaliation.
Erik waited. Isla reached the stone staircase. Her gaze roved over the view. The wind stirred through the plants, grass, and trees in a soft serenade. Bamboo swayed. An ivory tent, lit candles, and a stream of turquoise encircled the quaint island.
“Isla.” She stopped mid-step and turned around, watching Reed bound down the stairs. “Allow me to escort you.”
“How sweet, but I’d rather swallow shards of glass.” She smiled and turned from him.
Erik snickered under his breath. He offered her his arm, and Isla happily accepted it. Reed found no amusement in her actions and cursed under his breath while buttoning his suit jacket.
Reed leaned close to her ear. “Why are you upset?”
You left me when I let it slip out about the abuse. This is what happens when I feel, when I let you in, when I say things I shouldn’t. How can I trust you with my secrets? How can I trust you with my daughter?
Instead, she went with, “The past few hours have been the equivalent of a Twilight Zone episode, and, to be honest, just looking at you irritates me.”
“We had a moment.”
“You have amnesia. I don’t recall a moment, but do I recall my gag reflex.” Harsh sarcasm was her defense mechanism; that and being a full-on bitch.
Erik leaned toward her. “You are a funny lady. I like that.”
“I’ll be here all night.”
They crossed a small teak bridge toward their destination. Erik’s laugh caught the attention of Ellis. His suave demeanor covered him like the bronzer his intern slathered onto him each morning. Dark caterpillars he called eyebrows rose with interest.
“Nice to see you alive, Isla.”
“Ellis,” she said. “I assume I’m in a lot of trouble.”
“Depends on how the night unfolds.”
Touché.
Ellis approached with an extended hand. Isla accepted. “You tremble.” He snapped his fingers, and within seconds, Isla was served a champagne flute. “All will be fine.”
“I failed to immobilize Martin.”
“I’m aware. You are distracted.”
“I apologize. I won’t allow any more obstacles,” Isla said and glanced over at Reed. He tipped his glass of liquor at her. “We’re going to remedy those obstacles tonight.”
What the hell does that mean?
She gulped down the ominous statement with the champagne. The bubbles tickled her throat. Even with a railway yard of lines surrounding his eyes, Ellis was handsome. Head of the Pierce family, his opinion was the only one that mattered. His word was final, or it used to be anyway. His brother-in-law decided to stir the families into a frenzy when talk of Reed holding the majority of Amaranthine shares began. Martin wasn’t happy, to say the least.
The families functioned by way of each having a boss who held a position on the board, and their appointed heir ran their respective companies. Amaranthine was the parent company of five corporations established in lucrative markets. Some of the men held executive roles but held fewer shares, allowing the next generation to head up the companies. It took Isla some time to untangle who controlled who but once she understood, she was all-in. She influenced more women to step up within the families, like Martin’s daughter, Mia. She was more than happy to become involved if it meant she could snort her daddy’s fortune up her nose.
Isla’s innovative plan had backfired, and Crosby was paying the price. Perhaps adding in the women was too hasty. It wasn’t part of her original plan, but over three bottles of wine she, Carys, and Crosby formed a female code of their own: stand, fight, empower. In typical Carys fashion, she suggested matching SFE necklaces with pink, encrusted diamonds. Crosby had pushed up her black-framed glasses with her middle finger. Isla laughed and shot Moscato out of her nose. She loved those ladies, but no matching anything, especially in pink.
“Let us sit. Dinner will be served momentarily.” Ellis guided Isla to the chair next to Reed’s. She wanted to ask about Carys and Crosby, and she was curious about what was happening at home. However, now didn’t feel like the right time. The seat across from her was set. Who else was joining them?
She sat down and sniffed. Did Reed guzzle the entire bottle of whiskey? His hand inched closer to hers atop the table.
“I bite,” Isla whispered.
“Perfect.”
“Is this a new method of coping? Now is not the time to be drunk.”
“I’m capable of enjoying a drink or two without your scolding. You’re not my mother,” he slurred.
He obviously wanted to be punched in the face again.
“Reed, you’re weren’t raised by wolves. If you can’t conduct yourself properly, you may leave.” Ellis turned his attention to Isla. “How is your injury?”
“Better, thank you. Rosa is sweet.”
“She has a healing touch. I apologize for the way you were brought to me. My men are brutal, and they think with egos, not brains.”
“Martin is out of control,” Isla blurted out.
“I agree. Betrayal holds consequences, but let us not concern ourselves with that. I’m famished.”
A chorus line of attendants lifted silver-domed trays and served each of them a plate of scallops and shrimp drizzled with butter sauce alongside a creamy risotto. Isla laid her napkin down, smoothing it over her lap. Reed nudged her hand. She shot him a side glare and swatted him away. Isla focused on Ellis.
“Any news on Crosby’s father? How is she?”
“Not your concern right now.”
“Is Carys safe?”
“She’s with Gavin. All the families are on alert,” Ellis said while digging into his meal.
Isla had to phone Henry so she could hear Jules’s voice. They’d have to leave the ranch and change identities. They may even need to leave the country, which would be fine. Her daughter’s French and Italian were impeccable. Henry traveled overseas a lot; he often mentioned his love of European culture, especially the Mediterranean region.
The surrounding live oaks shook with disapproval, their dried tendrils swayed in the sea breeze and whispered, “Do not hide amongst the thorns. Bare your scars.”
Or, perhaps standing together was the answer, united as a family. Ellis never gave her a reason to distrust him. He held her confidences in silence and assigned her with confidential information about the other families. Had Isla gone about it all wrong, wasted years of nothing but idle work? Years of time lost with Jules?
Seagulls squawked nearby, bringing her back from her quiet doubts.
Or maybe it was the champagne fizzing into her rationale. Isla pushed the empty glass away and asked the nearest server for a glass of water with lemon.