Chapter 224

“Is it enough?” Vance turned to face him. “Because from what I hear, you let this—” he gestured loosely in Charla’s direction, “—this walking disaster zone frame your wife, try to kill her, and now you’re standing in her hospital room while she plays the victim because she finally ran into someone crazier than herself.”

“She lost a finger, Vance,” Hilliard said.

“And Cailin lost five years,” Vance shot back. The playfulness dropped from his voice entirely. “I saw the security footage from the Ferris wheel, Hilliard. I hacked the cloud backup before your security chief could even find the login page. It’s crystal clear — Charla jumped. I know you saw it too. So why are you standing in this room instead of going to get your real family back?”

Charla went pale.

“You hacked it?” Gregg sputtered. “That’s illegal!”

“So is laundering money through a charity foundation, Gregg,” Vance said, showing too many teeth. “Shall we compare felonies?”

He turned back to Hilliard and dropped a hand on his shoulder.

“Wake up, big cousin. You have a wife who is extraordinary, and apparently a collection of children who are smarter than your entire security team. Stop wasting time with the nine-fingered fraud and go get your family.”

Hilliard looked at him. For the first time in years, he saw something clear and steady behind his cousin’s eyes.

“You’re right,” Hilliard said.

He turned and walked out.

“Hilliard!” Charla screamed after him.

“Save your breath, honey,” Vance said, pulling a flask from his breast pocket. “You’re going to need it for the deposition.”

The dining room at the Holloway main estate was a cavernous hall of mahogany and old oil paintings. Thunder rumbled outside, rattling the crystal glasses arranged along the long table.

Preston Holloway sat at the head, his face flushed purple with rage. Jeraldine sat to his right, pressing a handkerchief to her eyes. Amerigo occupied the far end, silent, eating his soup — his very stillness more commanding than any man standing in the room.

Hilliard and Vance sat opposite each other.

“You have to marry her,” Preston said, slamming his fist on the table. “The English family is threatening a billion-dollar lawsuit — negligence, emotional distress. They’re saying Cailin ordered the attack!”

“Cailin didn’t order it,” Hilliard said, cutting his steak without looking up. “And I’m not marrying Charla. I’d rather lose the billion.”

“You are destroying this family!” Jeraldine wailed. “For that woman! She’s a criminal, Hilliard. She associates with gangsters like Kegan Aguirre!”

“She associates with him because we failed her,” Hilliard said. “Because I failed her.”

“Oh, spare me the melodrama,” Preston sneered. “It’s business. We merge with English Holdings, bury the scandal, and move on.”

“English Holdings is finished,” Vance said, swirling his wine. “Hilliard cut their supply chain this morning. Their stock dropped forty percent by closing bell. If we merge with them, we’re merging with a corpse.”

“Vance!” Preston barked. “Shut up!”

Amerigo tapped his cane sharply on the floor. The sound cut through the room like a gunshot. Everyone fell silent.

“Charla English is a liability,” Amerigo said. “She is unstable. And her parents are thieves.” He paused, then fixed Hilliard with cold, hard eyes. “However. Cailin Morton is a far more significant problem.”

“She’s hiding heirs,” Hilliard said.