Chapter Twenty-Three
Julian
“She’s a fraud,” Victoria says, triumphantly.
I barely hear her. My head is still ringing with her betrayal.
I’ve been stabbed in the gut by the woman I trust the most.
I don’t even know why.
But all the evidence is there, laid out on the table in front of me and corroborated by a few quick calls to my lawyer and an ex-cop PI I know.
Time and again, right to my face, she lied while in the same breath telling me she loved me. Was that a lie, too?
Officially, there’s no record of Melody Peres until a year ago, and that’s as far back as any records of her go. Everything else is sealed by some court in Colorado, as far my ex-cop was able to dig up.
Still, he told me he’d keep digging.
Just what the hell is she trying to pull?
I watch her leave, which is just more confirmation of her how bad the truth must be. I push back the urge to chase after her. She said enough.
I love Melody Peres, but that woman descending the elevators isn’t her. Melody Peres is just an invention, a lie, just like our relationship.
How could she spend so much of our time together demanding trust and honesty, while lying right to my face?
“You can see this complicates things,” Pierce says.
“No fucking shit it does,” I retort, bitterly.
My mouth is full of ashes and my head is still spinning from this betrayal.
How could she not tell me? How could she go through with all these lies, knowing how important today is for me? Was she planning to keep lying to me?
What’s making everything worse is the look on Victoria’s face. It’s so fucking smug that my throat fills with bile.
“Pierce has someone digging even deeper in her hometown. We’ve found out there’s another man, too. This other man was so curious about what you and that bitch have been up to. This is will be a nightmare for you when it gets out to the press,” she crows.
I slam my fist into the table and it shudders and cracks at the blow. The pain is jarring, and both Victoria and Pierce start. “What the fuck do you want?” I demand.
“You know what I want,” she spits.
“I’d rather die than give you the company after what you did to Alex.”
She rolls her eyes. “Please. That mess was your father’s doing. You know he had too much pride to be the man at the helm of a dying company, so he did what he had to to keep it afloat.”
Pierce nods.
The bastard probably helped my father pull off all the shit that Alex took the blame for.
“So he decided he’d get away with it by fucking over his own son? Jesus Christ, how can you people be so twisted?”
She glares at me. “It doesn’t matter. It was survival. Now, I did not spend three decades laying beneath your beast of a father not to get paid what I’m due.”
I can’t even comprehend how much of a wretched bitch she is.
And I can’t let her win.
“I’d rather die than let a conniving cunt like you sit at the head of the board. Go ahead, leak all the information you want. By the time it gets anywhere, I’ll already be CEO. And I’m no stranger to dealing with a shit reputation.”
“What about her?” Pierce asks.
I shrug. “I don’t care.”
Those words feel like ashes in my mouth.
But even so, I think I mean them.
* * * * *
My head is swirling as the announcement is made.
There’s a note of pride in Gordon’s voice as it echoes through the boardroom.
He still doesn’t know about the truth about Melody. It’s going to be a firestorm of biblical proportions when word of that gets out.
“And so, by a vote of four to two, it is decided. Julian Stone, welcome aboard as the next CEO of Stone Capital.”
I force a gracious smile. I feign pride.
Victory tastes like shit.
I should be happy. Fuck, I should be ecstatic and not just because I prevented vultures like Victoria from feasting on the remains of my brother’s career. I’ve just fought my way to the top of one of the most powerful investment firms in the state.
But all I can think about is her.
Melody.
Her name raises this whirlwind of emotions inside me.
Anger. Sadness. Wrath. Betrayal. Confusion.
They all compete with that stubborn sensation of love that still twinges my heart any time I think of her.
So, while the board is going on about my fancy new pay package as CEO and the truckloads of stock and cash they’re going to give to me just for becoming their boss, all I can think about is her.
Still, I get up in front of the board and I say the usual gracious shit you’re supposed to say in times like this. How I’m grateful for their confidence and support. How I’m looking forward to leading the company into the future with confidence and integrity.
It’s the kind of shit these guys eat up. I get the old white man golf clap when my speech is over, I get a few pats on the shoulder, and a death glare from Victoria and Pierce when I step out into the hallway.
It’s only going to be a matter of time before they try and tear apart Melody’s life and my own.
This is what going for revenge has got me — a bitter taste in my mouth and the promise of a continuing cycle of hate from everyone I’ve stepped on to get here.
I hardly talk to anyone as I leave the board room. I make a bee-line for the elevators and put I put on a stony don’t-fucking-talk-to-me expression.
I send a text to Mike on the ride down. It’s simple. I won. Say hello to the new CEO.
His reply’s almost immediate: Congratulations??? I think?? Or should I say I’m sorry?
I get to the parking lot. I turn the key in the ignition of my Jag and peel out onto the street.
There’s just one place I can go to get my head straightened out.
* * * * *
“You have fifteen minutes,” the guard says as I sign the guest register.
He points me to a shitty card table with a few folding chairs set up around it. Alex, my brother, is waiting for me. He’s got a fancy orange jumpsuit on and looks like he could use a shave, but otherwise seems no worse for wear. Aside from being in prison.
I take a seat across from him.
“The guard said I only get fifteen minutes. Did white collar jail suddenly get a lot harder than I remember?”
“I’ve already killed six people. It’s how you survive here, bro. I’ve got a new name, too. From now on, call me Big Bear.”
I’m sort of speechless.
Alex laughs and shakes his head. “No. Your timing’s just off, bro. They have mandatory meditation in fifteen minutes. After that, it’s massage time.”
“You get massages here?”
“Every Friday,” he says.
“Fuck, bro. Remind me to get arrested sometime soon.”
He shakes his head. “You wouldn’t last a day in here, Jude. It’s rough. The baccarat teams are cutthroat. Just last week, one of the inmates got in a little too much debt at one of the games… So, later that night, some of the boys cornered him in the showers, and, man, it got ugly…” he pauses for dramatic effect. “They gave him a stern talking to. Raised voices and everything. I still have nightmares about it.”
“That’s got to be difficult. However do you manage?”
“Same way you do anywhere else: you keep your head down, your eyes and ears open, and you don’t ever, ever, ever drop the soap,” he says. “But, seriously, why are you here? I doubt you came around for prison shower-time advice.”
“I won,” I say. “You’re looking at the newest CEO of Stone Capital.”
“Congratulations?”
“Mike already beat you to that one,” I say, feeling a genuine, faint smile on my face for the first time in hours.
“That little bastard. He was always too quick for his own good,” he says, then, looking at me like I’ve got my questions written all over my face, he goes on, “so, why do you look like you’ve just walked in on mom naked?”
I make a gagging noise and refuse to let any of that imagery appear in my head. “Really?”
“Yeah, you look like you want to violently eject your insides out of your mouth and your nostrils. Which is obviously the correct response to seeing Victoria Stone naked.”
“Let’s not talk about it.”
“Then how about you tell me why you look so damn sick.”
I tell him everything. I tell him all about meeting Melody in Rockaway Bay, about the way she stitched me up, about convincing her to pretend to be my fiance in exchange for helping her out, about how I thought I felt about her, and about how she’s been playing me this whole time.
“So, who is she?” he asks at the end of my story.
I shrug bitterly. “Fuck if I know.”
“Sometimes, people lie for good reasons, man. And, yeah, sometimes they lie because they’re bastards,” he shrugs. “But, either way, where are you going to go from here? You won — if you want to call it that. You told the better lie, you got the board to believe in you, and now you get the prize. Now, what are you going to do with it?”
“I think the next month or two is going to be about keeping the company steady. Victoria and Pierce are pretty intent on tearing down as much as they can, since Victoria’s not taking over. After that, I don’t know — make a load of cash and then, when you’re out, we’ll set you up with a nice executive position.”
Alex laughs. “Me? No, no, no. Brother, I’m doing just fine. I’ve got plenty of money and, honestly, I’d have dinner with mom than go back to Stone Capital.”
“What do you mean?”
“People are more honest here, in prison, than they are in the boardroom. There’s less backstabbing, less lies, and it’s a wholly better class of person here. I’ve had plenty of time to think in here and, once I’m out, I’m out. It’s honorable of you to keep Victoria from taking over, thanks for biting the bullet, but I don’t envy you the aftermath.”
I don’t respond. I let his words sink into me. All I’ve cared about until this point is winning, is getting revenge and making sure the people who wronged my brother don’t profit.
“Do you remember that summer — I think you were seven, maybe — when we were staying at Grandma and Grandpa’s vacation home.”
Something jogs my memory. “In Charleston, wasn’t it? We took off on our bikes that whole day, left Mike behind.”
“Do you remember playing king of the mountain?”
I nod, then I punch him in the shoulder. “I remember. I also remember you only ran towards that ‘mountain’ just enough to get me to jump on it.”
He laughs. “It’s not my fault you didn’t realize it was a compost heap until it was too late. At least you won, though. And you’ve won now.”
I glare at him.
“But I’m sure you’ll do just fine, bro,” he says, patting me on the shoulder. “You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for and, shit, this whole escapade proved you are an incredible salesman. I just hope you find happiness on top of your mountain. That’s what really matters.”
A buzzer rings and some overweight guy in an ill-fitting uniform waves at me to move. Visiting hours are over. The whole walk down the hallway, this feeling of foreboding settles over me.
Have I really won?