Let Me Burn by Elodie Colt
Nathan
I’m raging. Ready to do some serious damage. I’m so pumped, I could compete against Ronnie Coleman for the next Mr. Universe.
I haven’t shut an eye the entire night. After my heart-to-heart with Brooke, that ended with a Hiroshima bomb exploding in my face, I was a wreck. For the rest of the night—or rather, morning hours—I’ve jogged through half of the city, let out some steam in the gym, and then did some more running until the sinews in my legs threatened to snap.
Vincent Crawford. The con of the century, and a liar to a fault.
How many secrets does this man hide inside his Hugo Boss pockets? How many mysteries of his past will he take to his grave?
And how many fucking times will he lie to his family?
The elevator pings open, and I slip out, marching down the office hallway with hammering steps.
Vincent has a child. Another fucking child.
No idea what made Brooke hand over the secret to me. Now. Almost fifteen years later. Nick is sure to have a stroke when he finds out his father failed to mention a blood-related sibling. But he needs to know. I’m sick of keeping secrets for others.
And the cherry on top: Vincent never told Brooke, either. After Vincent went into the slammer, the child’s mother wrote her a letter in which she confessed they’d been dating years ago. When she found out that he was married, she left. It was only years later, after Vincent conducted the heist and his arrest hit the headlines, that she decided to contact Brooke and set the record straight about Vincent being her child’s father.
I didn’t ask Brooke why she never said a word. I didn’t ask her if Vincent had a daughter or a son. I didn’t ask her who the woman was and if she ever heard from her again. As soon as she dropped the word ‘child,’ my mind drew a blank.
Fuck me. It had taken me months to place a sliver of trust in that man again, to be willing to reintegrate him into the company, to let him into my heart and show him forgiveness, and now it turns out that only a handful of his secrets had ever come to light.
Don’t worry, Daddy, I’m going to dig them all up.
I gun for Vincent’s office with my pulse out of control. Not bothering to knock, I slam the door open. Two heads whip in my direction, but I ignore Nick’s quizzical look as I brush past him to beeline for my target. Sensing that shit is about to hit the fan, Vincent shoots up from his chair.
“Time to play truth or dare.” Glowering at him, I drive a fist down on his desk. “You’re going to choose truth.”
“Nathan, what the hell is going on?” Nick demands, and I shoot him a scowl as he approaches me, no doubt to pull me back. My deadly vibes make him think better of it.
“Ask Daddy dearest, brother. Keeping secrets seems to be his favorite pastime.”
Vincent raises his hands, palms up. “Son, I think you should—”
“Son…” My mocking tone speaks of my scorn as I lean closer, bristling. “How many sons do you have, huh? Two? Three? Or maybe there’s a daughter in the mix, too?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
I ignore Nick, my unbreakable glare on Vincent’s color-bleeding face. He sucks in his cheeks, an excessive swallow bobbing his throat before he takes a deep, pained breath.
“How did you find out?” His voice is low, coated with shame and guilt.
I drum my knuckles on his desk. “Why don’t you ask your wife? Apparently, she’s known since you went down for another stretch.”
“She’s known what?” Nick presses.
I keep my steel-hard gaze on Vincent who winces when I drawl, “Vincent has another child. Turns out he knocked up that woman, what was her name…?” I make a show of trying to remember, snapping my fingers. “Mar, right?”
“What in God’s name…” Nick starts, but he stops when Vincent’s chin dips to his chest, a haunted look crossing his features. “Tell me this is a joke.”
“It’s the truth,” he says at last, his tone rueful.
Nick gapes at him, blanching. “Are you fucking kidding me? I’m twenty-six, and I only find out now that I have another brother?”
“Or sister,” I throw in with a click of my tongue. “Maybe Daddy can shed some light on that one.”
Vincent clears his throat, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “A sister.”
“I can’t believe it,” Nick huffs. “Why the fuck did you never tell us?”
“Because I didn’t know,” Vincent hisses through gritted teeth. “It was only after I landed in prison that Mar wrote me a letter, confessing that she’d been raising my child. She didn’t even tell me the kid’s name. Said our daughter would never find out who I am because…”
“Because you were a cheater and a fucking thief?” I end the sentence for him.
The pointed look he throws me sideways tells me I’ve hit the nail on the head.
“I wanted to visit her to talk things out, but she died one year before I came out of jail,” he confesses in a leaden tone.
Now it makes sense why he was so sentimental every time he stood in front of the sixth nook in my office. The alexandrite he gave to Mar reminded him of the love he lost, and the daughter he never met.
“Hang on,” Nick says with a shake of his head. “How come you knew she died if you were in jail? Have you been in contact with her family?”
Vincent takes a deep breath, and I know he’s about to hit us with another shocker. “No. Carl kept me posted.”
“Carl knew?” Nick exclaims, gawking at his father.
I scoff. “All this time, Carl was in the know about that woman and your child, but you never thought to spill the beans to your family?”
“I was dead to Mar way before she died, and she made it clear what she thought of me meeting my daughter. I saw no reason to open that grave after everything my family had to endure.”
“You mean after everything you put your family under.”
His eyes are cold as ice when they veer to me. “I paid for my mistakes. I’ve atoned for every one of my sins, trust me. I understand your anger, son, but don’t forget that you don’t share my daughter’s bloodline.”
He might as well have slapped me. I can feel the sting of his words on my skin. My father, the one who always loved me more than his own flesh and blood, is telling me to go fuck myself because I’m the savage creature who’s adopted.
He can go fuck himself, too.
“Fuck, Dad, you can’t—” Nick starts, but I interrupt him.
“No, he’s right.” My heart wreaks havoc inside my chest as I rip Vincent’s gold pendant from my neck, the one he gave me when I was a kid. “Well, lucky me, I don’t share your bloodline, either.”
The flicker of regret in his eyes leaves me cold as I fling the pendant at his feet. He opens his mouth, no doubt to tell me he didn’t mean it like that, but I send him a look that makes his teeth clack shut before I pivot on my heels to throw myself a pity-party in my office.
Once there, I grab the first thing on the shelf next to the door—a heavy, abstract figurine in the form of a warrior bull—and smash it against the sixth nook in the wall. The damn safety glass wobbles as the weight bounces against it, and it takes me two more anger-driven blows to shatter it for good.
The pounding in my ears is so loud, the background noises fade into nothing until I realize that the entire floor has halted in the middle of their tasks, whispering agitatedly outside my door. Still shaking from the rage fueling my blood, I set the figurine on my desk and loosen my collar to cool the heat flushing up my neck.
Maybe Vincent is right, and I’ve been barking up the wrong tree. He hid something that had been hidden from him to save himself the trouble. God only knows how old that kid was when Mar broke the news to him, and his hands were literally tied with a pair of iron shackles.
My phone rings in my pocket, and I heave an annoyed sigh. After taking a moment to find my composure, I answer Brooke’s call.
“You’ve got a visitor,” she barks down the line. Naturally, she has snapped all her shields back into place. “Can I send her up?”
Better send up a bottle of booze. Or six.
“Sure.”
I quickly fix my hairstyle and use my shoe to sweep the shards on the floor into a corner. A knock on the door resounds, and I adjust my tie just as a woman clad in a snow-white business suit enters.
“Hello, Mr. Crawford,” she says with a warm smile on her face, extending a caramel-toned hand for me to shake. “Kate Dugan.”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Dugan. Please, take a seat.”
The chocolate corkscrews on her head bounce as she follows me over to my desk and folds her frame into the leather seat opposite me. Sweeping my gaze over her, I quickly take inventory of her jewelry. No watch, no earrings, no necklace whatsoever. Just a cookie-cutter wedding band in plain gold.
I roll my chair closer to my desk. “What can I do for you, Mrs. Dugan?”
“Actually, I was hoping I could do something for you.”
I send her a quizzical look that she reciprocates with a smile. Taking her time, she places her silver flap bag onto the vacant seat next to her and folds her hands onto the desk.
“I work at eNtimacy for Silent Sins. I’m Ella Jenkins’ accountant.”
I stiffen. Fuck. I can only think of one reason why this woman would show up here. To bust my chops.
On second thought, if eNtimacy wants my head for violating their terms, why didn’t Carl give me a heads-up?
“If you’re here to kick me out of Silent Sins, please go ahead,” I say with an edge to my voice. “I have no interest in that program any longer. My lawyer has already been informed about—”
“I’m not here because of the breach,” she slices in. “I’m here because of Ella.”
Her worried tone rings all alarm bells at once, and I jerk in my seat, knocking over the pen holder on my desk.
“Did something happen to her? Is she alright?”
She blinks, clearly stunned by the vigor in my voice. “No, she’s fine. Uh, I mean… I haven’t spoken to her since she filed the report against you.”
I sag back in my seat, exhaling in relief while Kate distinctly assesses my behavior.
“How do you know who I am?” I ask when my head is somewhat clearer. “I thought you didn’t know the names of your clients’ matches. Wouldn’t you need my accountant’s permission to seek me out?”
She bites her lip before she swiftly changes the subject. “Ella was quite upset that you invaded her privacy.”
As if I didn’t already know it.
“I just wanted to protect her,” I say through clenched teeth, nodding to the fading scar on her temple. “You should know better than anyone that her stalker knows no limits.”
“That’s why I’m here.” Wiping a hand over her neck, she loosens her posture and sags back in her chair. “The thing is, Silent Sins is the exact opposite of what they’re selling you. No strings, no emotional attachments, no consequences… It doesn’t work like that when you lock two people in a dark room. Ever since eNtimacy launched this program, I’ve seen dozens of new relationships evolve and ten times as many hearts break. Ultimately, love always gets in the way. I’m the best example.” She lifts her hand to wriggle her fourth finger adorned with her wedding band.
I arc an eyebrow at her. “You met your husband at Silent Sins?”
She nods. “You wouldn’t believe how many Silent Sins members have tied the knot. In regards to relationships, Silent Sins has a higher success rate than eNtimacy. Ironic, isn’t it?”
Well, damn. And here I was, thinking I’m the biggest loser on earth for falling in love with my Silent Sins match.
I steeple my hands in front of me. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you haven’t had any Silent Sins dates since your last one with Ella four weeks ago. Because Ella only reported you to get you away from her stalker.” She pauses, puckering her lips. “Because I’ve never seen a better compatibility match of two people who are so adamant to stay away from each other.”
“That’s where you are mistaken,” I counter, trying to ignore the stab in my heart. “You have no idea how many rules I’ve broken to reach her. To get her to talk to me. To get her to fucking look at me.”
“She won’t be able to look away when she sees you for the first time.”
I lean back in my chair again, scrutinizing her. I understand what she’s telling me. For Ella, I’m still Ross. A faceless man with an unknown identity. But as soon as we’re face-to-face, I’m anchoring myself to her in the real world. I will have a name, a face, and a body she can touch outside the Room.
“I care about Ella,” Kate says, pulling me back to the present. “Silent Sins was a good experience for her. She has learned to trust, to cope with her fears, to live in the moment. I don’t want her to throw everything away because her past caught up to her.” She takes her bag and rises to her feet. “I already tried to contact her, but I couldn’t get through. She probably changed her number. You already broke the rules, and I know you’ve got the means to break some more if needs must. You are the only person who can save her.”
Save her? Christ, haven’t I done everything in my power to make sure Luka Sokolov won’t cross the city border again? What else is there for me to do?
‘You have to cut a diamond with a diamond,’ Brooke said.
But I don’t want to cut her or polish her or put her in a pretty setting. I want to see her sparkling facets as well as the dull ones. I want to see the smooth edges and the rough ones. I want her to keep all the flaws and inclusions and asymmetries.
Ella Jenkins is the rarest gem I’ve ever seen, and I’ve lost her somewhere in the earth.
Fuck, I can’t give up. I have to find her.
And when I do, I will never let her go again.