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  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter One: Chapter 1 Title

  Chapter Two: Chapter 2 Title

  Chapter Three: Chapter 3 Title

  Chapter Four: Chapter 4 Title

  Chapter Five: Chapter 5 Title

  Chapter Six: Chapter 6 Title

  Chapter Seven: Chapter 7 Title

  Chapter Eight: Chapter 8 Title

  Chapter Nine: Chapter 9 Title

  About the Author

  Other Titles

  Free Gifts /Email List

  Dedication

  Acknowledgment

  Chapter One: Chapter 1 Title

  The press were behaving like rabid dogs that smelled meat. I tried my best to keep talking, not letting the endless flash of cameras and microphones thrust into my face annoy me. Thank god I had a script; there isn’t a single other thought in my head right now.

  I checked on Chrissie out of the corner of my eye—given my recent behavior the past few years, I was quickly getting used to being around so much press. I even recognized a few faces, but Chrissie had chosen to run her own business for a reason. She was fidgeting, hands wringing behind her back, but her face was a polite mask—a serene smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She was getting anxious; I didn’t blame her.

  “We wish to end by saying that we had no idea of these incidents until April of this year, and since then, my sister and I have worked endlessly to rectify the misdeeds of our father and fix the relationship Wright Enterprises has spent a century building with America and the world. Thank you.”

  What seemed like thousands of voices clamored over one another, and I was grateful for the security team keeping the more enthusiastic journalists back. Hands were waving in every direction as everyone shouted for their question to be answered first. In the end, I picked the first one I actually heard coherently, asked by a tall, fierce-looking woman with bright red lipstick.

  “Mr. Wright, why has it taken you so long to address these allegations? You told us you’ve been aware of them for months, and yet you’ve done nothing up until now?” Shame flashed tight and painful and I swallowed it down with a smile.

  “Well, it took an unacceptably long time for me to be made aware of what happened, and uh-I decided to make my own enquiries into the matter so that things can go as smoothly as they possibly can after today.”

  My head was throbbing. We’d been standing there for what felt like hours, but the questions kept coming. Chrissie and I took them in turns, offering countless smiles and waves to the cameras as we did so.

  “What does Trent Wright feel about this campaign to bring the ProviderLives’ employees to justice?” The crowd quieted down a little, eager to hear how we would answer. I know I had to answer; it was still a sore subject for Chrissie, no matter how much she tried to hide it. Without her, none of this would have been able to happen. The least I can do is keep her from having to answer any uncomfortable questions. A question like this was bound to come up, but I still didn’t know what to say. He’s probably on his way here now? If he had his way I would definitely be locked in the basement?

  Suddenly, Chrissie was stepping forward, taking my hand in hers and facing the cameras with a determined smile.

  “Our father has done many things for the good of our family over the years. He has always been dedicated and loyal to the company and to his employees…” She turned to look at me, offering a determined smile. “ … which makes what he’s done even more unforgivable in our eyes. He wasn’t aware of our investigations because we knew he would try everything in his power to ensure we didn’t find the truth.” Her hands were shaking in mine, and I squeezed her hand as gently as I could. This ends now.

  “Thank you all so much for coming here this morning, and I urge anyone who feels they are entitled to compensation to come forward and contact us. Thank you.”

  The clamoring voices continued, following us back behind the safety of the glass doors and all the way up the stairs to my office.

  I shut the door quickly and leaned back against it, eyes closed.

  “We did it.” Chrissie looked up at me from where she was leaning against the front of my desk looking astonished, like she couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. “We actually did it. We sold our father down the river…” My victory smile soured a little and I watched her anxiously.

  “You’re not regretting it are you?”

  “No.” Her instant answer had me slumping back against the door with relief. “You were right Andrew; what he did to Josephine and all those other people wasn’t right. We did the right thing.” We smiled at each other, sharing a quiet moment of triumph.

  I took out my phone, turning it back on now that we weren’t in front of the press. We both jumped as it lit up—buzzing with notifications.

  “Who is it?” Chrissie asked. I scrolled through the notifications, noting with a wince that a large number of them were from dad.

  “Dad’s phoned me twelve times in the past two hours…” I looked up at her, eyebrows raised. “You think that means he’s taking it well?” I looked back down at my phone. There were texts too—from Hugo this time—telling me that he’d watched the whole thing and was on his way. I froze.

  “What is it?”

  I blinked.

  “She phoned me.” Josephine’s name lit up my screen like the sun. A flood of warmth coursed through me, quickly followed by panic. What did she want? Was she okay? “I have a missed call…” I scrolled quicker. “ …three missed calls. Chrissie, she phoned me three times.”

  “Well, phone her back!”

  I fumbled the phone, fingers not moving as fast as my mind. My heart was thundering as I put the phone to my ear.

  “Is it ringing? Is she picking up? What are you going to say? Did you—?”

  “Chrissie!”

  “Right. Sorry. As you were.”

  The dial tone went on and on, long enough that I could feel it ricocheting through my brain.

  “Hi. This is Josephine! I can’t come to the phone, so leave a message and I’ll give you a call back!”

  I hung up.

  “Anything?”

  I put my phone away, sniffing to stop myself from crying. My heart was still beating against my ribcage.

  “Nothing.” I walked over to the window, making sure not to be spotted as I checked the sidewalk for any journalists still hanging around. “Coast is clear. Let’s head home.”

  “Andrew I—”

  “It’s okay.” I tried to smile but it felt too shaky, too brittle. “I’m just confused. I’ll be fine.”

  Chapter Two: Chapter 2 Title

  I’d always loved riding trains. The blur of the countryside as I thundered past, the soothing rock of the wheels on the track underneath me; it always made me feel more at ease. And now was no different. For the first time in months, I was doing something that felt one hundred percent right.

  It wasn’t a long journey to Andrew’s office. According to the website it was more like twenty five minutes, and instead of rolling hills and glittering rivers, hundreds of houses and shop fronts whistled by in
a vague wash of colors.

  Charlie was silent beside me, leaning on my shoulder while she scrolled through her phone. It was a comfortable weight—familiar, and I relaxed back into the scratchy train seat with a sigh. I had no idea what time it was; my phone had died ten minutes after we’d left the house, and I didn’t have my charger. I was secretly glad. I’d phoned Andrew three times, overcome with the need to talk after so long, pretending that I wasn’t thinking about him every second of the day. I craned my neck slightly to read the time from Charlie’s phone; it was still so early.

  “What would you have said if he’d picked up?” Charlie’s voice was soft, not wanting to break the warm quiet between us just yet.

  I’m sorry, I would have said. I’m sorry and I love you. Can I please see you?

  “Probably something daft,” I conceded. “But one hundred percent true.”

  Charlie hummed in satisfaction.

  “Mmm, good answer.” She sat up, eyes moving more urgently over her screen.

  “What is it?”

  Charlie waved a dismissive hand in my face, eyes glued to the phone in her hands.

  “Listen to this: ‘Christine and Andrew Wright revealed this morning that their father Trent Wright knowingly allowed workers from the now out of business ProviderLives to work with dangerous chemicals that resulted in several of them diagnosed with lung cancer. The siblings, pictured above, provided the press and police alike with evidence of bribery and violation of Health and Safety Acts as well as embezzlement from Wright Enterprises of over five hundred thousand dollars’...blah blah blah ‘this comes as an enormous shock to anyone that knew the old CEO’ blah blah blah… ah! ‘Andrew Wright has stated that any of the people that suffered under his father’s cruelty should contact him personally so that the correct compensation can be given to—’ Josie? What’s wrong?”

  I wiped hurriedly at the tears rolling down my cheeks. How could I have been so stupid? All I had to do was listen to him. I could see his face, pained and urgent. He was trying to tell me then—that he really hadn’t known, that he was doing everything he could to fix things. He’d had to go against his father—the person who, for so long, was the only reason he made himself miserable; to make him proud. And he’d thrown all that away to help people in need. People like dad. An inexplicable warmth settled in my chest and I laughed weakly.

  “I just love him,” I said. “I love him so much and I’m such an idiot.” This whole situation was so bizarre. Three months had passed since I’d last seen Andrew. Was I even the same person? I felt like I’d changed so much, seen so much of myself in such a short amount of time. And now I was on my way to see the love of my life, praying that I was still the love of his...“What if he doesn’t let us in?” I bit my lip. He didn’t have to after all—I wouldn’t blame him if he’d already moved on. I’d been a bitch. Charlie reached out and slapped me across the back of my head.

  “Quit that right now.”

  “Fucking ow! Quit what?”

  “Quit blaming yourself. Do you remember what happened that night—what had been happening for that whole week? Because I do. You were held captive by a maniac in a hotel room for a week. And then, you were told that the reason your dad died was because of, you thought, your new boyfriend.” The old couple sitting across the aisle recoiled in shock, the wife actually reaching up to clutch at a set of fake pearls around her neck. Charlie noticed them looking and lowered her voice. “I think you have the excuse to not exactly take the news well.”

  “Yes but—”

  She groaned, burying her head back in my shoulder.

  “Why? Why do you have to be such a stubborn ass?” She pulled herself up, grabbing my shoulders and looking into my eyes. “Listen to me,” she said slowly, like she was talking to a toddler, “it’s not your fault—no buts! It’s not your fault. Okay?” I nodded and she let go, seemingly satisfied. “Besides…” She picked her phone up off the table. “…you’re trying to fix things. Rushing to his office is the best thing to do now that you’ve realized you were wrong, and if he doesn’t listen, then the bastard doesn’t deserve you anyway. It’s as simple as that.”

  Not for the first time, I found myself with nothing to say to her. Charlie had a way of tackling every worry you have with a single heartfelt pep talk. I always said she would have made an amazing motivational speaker… or a pretty good TV drama actress.

  “That last bit sounded kinda sarcastic.” I couldn’t help but tease. “Do you practice these in front of a mirror?”

  Charlie stuck out her tongue—the easy going atmosphere returning. I relaxed back into my seat again.

  “You require a lot of pep talks—I’ve had to really up my game. You’re a mess.”

  I laughed, throwing my head back to look up at the top of the train car and over the empty luggage racks above our heads.

  “Oh god,” I said, righting myself. “Did we really forget to pack anything?”

  “Who forgot?” she asked dryly. “You were out of the house in two minutes flat; it’s a miracle you remembered to put on shoes.”

  I put my head in my hands, feeling laughter bubble up my throat. “And what will you need anyway, really? You won’t need clothes—not if things go well—and I’m sure I can borrow a toothbrush or something.”

  Chapter Three: Chapter 3 Title

  When we finally reached the apartment, it was already early evening. It was blissfully quiet and I made a beeline for the couch, collapsing down onto the soft fabric with a groan.

  “I never want to leave this couch ever again,” I said, voice muffled in one of the fluffy cushions. The only thought running through my mind in a loop was holy shit we did it!

  Even though my body felt like it might never move again, content to melt right into the couch, my mind was a rush of adrenaline, playing the whole morning over and over. Pride.

  For eight years, I’d been told I was in charge of Wright Enterprises, that whatever I did reflected on the company and it was my responsibility to do right by it. For almost as long, I’d felt like they’d picked the wrong person. No matter what I did, I was told I was doing it wrong, surrounded by employees that had seen my father do it better or quicker or for more money. But today, for the first time, no one could tell me I was wrong.

  The front door slammed closed and I opened one eye to watch Chrissie toe off her ridiculously tall high heels and rub at her sore feet, hopping from foot to foot as she fiddled with the straps and swearing viciously when her nail got caught in a buckle.

  “Alright there ugly step sister?” I called lazily, closing my eyes again. I still felt the glare she sent my way.

  “I’m the Cinderella of this family and don’t you forget it,” came her smooth reply, voice getting closer as she hobbled across the room. I sat up, using all of my remaining strength to collapse against the armrest just as Chrissie dropped down beside me and leaned on my shoulder. There wasn’t really enough room for both of us to sit comfortably pressed against each other but neither of us moved.

  The silence of the apartment washed over us both, the slight buzz of the fridge in the kitchen and the distant sounds of passersby on the street below creating a pleasant, almost hypnotic soundtrack. “I hope Hugo’s okay,” Chrissie murmured after a minute. I hummed. Hugo had decided to stay at the office, saying something about finally getting some work done now all the excitement was over. I hadn’t had the energy to try and convince him to come with us. I should get him something to say thank you I thought distantly.

  “I’m sure he’s fine,” I mumbled into Chrissie’s hair. “He was a perfect double agent; no one knows he was helping us.”

  “Now everything’s out in the open, I think we should tell him not to help anymore.” Chrissie pushed away from me, groaning softly as she maneuvered to sit pressed up against the armrest on the other side of the couch, legs curled up under her. “I want to do this right Andrew—no more sneaking around. I don’t want to get Hugo in trouble.” Her shoulders were tense, like
she was expecting me to disagree. I thought back to the night we argued and felt ashamed.

  “I don’t want that either.” I sighed, pushing my hair out of my eyes and rubbing a hand over my temple. “I agree. We’ve got a lot more work to do. Plus dad’s gonna be armed to the teeth with lawyers soon enough.” It was going to be ugly. I’d seen dad in court years ago. At the time, I was too young to really understand what was going on, but I picked up on how cutthroat he tended to be well enough. Hugo was a great guy and a brilliant worker—I didn’t want to drag him into anything that awful. Not if I could help it. “Tomorrow is gonna suck and probably a lot of the days after that. But, for now, I’m just fucking happy to see the back of today okay. Can we just make dinner and watch some stupid movie?”

  Chrissie’s shoulders unclenched and she relaxed.

  “Absolutely.” Neither of us moved. “Whose turn is it?”

  I made a show of snuggling further down into the couch, tugging my tie loose and wiggling my feet into the crease between the couch cushions. In response, Chrissie pulled a cushion into her lap and burrowed as far into the corner of the other side of the couch as she could get without disappearing completely.

  “Well,” I remarked. “This is awkward.”

  Chrissie laughed, the sound muffled slightly by the cushion pressed into her face.

  “We could just order in.”

  She pointed a hand at me, eyes sparkling.

  “That,” she said definitively. I laughed, pulling out my phone and calling the familiar number of the Chinese place a few blocks down. I listed off half a dozen dishes, not even pretending to not know the menu by heart, and Chrissie handed over her card to pay before climbing reluctantly to her feet to go shower before the food arrived.

  As the water started I headed to the kitchen, pulling out some plates and cutlery and searching the cupboards until I found a bottle of red wine. It was the one Josie had bought for me in Italy, boasting about the time she’d spent in a vineyard a few years back and assuring me it was the best Italian wine she’d ever tasted. My chest ached and I poured myself a glass, staring at the dark liquid for a long time. I’d phoned her back two more times in the car ride home but she hadn’t answered. What does that mean? Had she called me by mistake? Once maybe, but three times? Half of me hoped that finally facing up to my responsibilities would somehow get her back. I was beginning to forget how it felt to wrap my arms around her and that terrified me. Parts of her were slipping away; I couldn’t remember what color her eyes were… were they more gray or blue? I scrambled for the image of her face, smiling softly at something I’d said, eyes scrunched at the corners as she hid a laugh.