Gabe walked toward his aunt and took her hand, lifted it to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “Tía, what account?”
Joe cleared his throat. “I think I should explain.”
Luc folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall. “Please do.”
“After the accident your mother found a bank statement in your dad’s jacket. It was from a bank in the Cayman Islands.”
Luc was incredulous. “That’s...offshore banking, a way to hide money. Dirty money.”
“I wasn’t sure what it was, so I showed it to Joe,” Mariella cut in. “I felt that with Joe being Harrison’s business partner, he might know what it all means.”
“The statement is several months old,” Joe continued. “But the account is clearly active. There’s more than a hundred million dollars in it,” he added. “That’s why I decided to tell you about the Fixer.”
Elana jumped up from her seat. Her purse clattered to the floor. “Wait a minute. A hundred million?”
“A hundred million dollars?” Rafe echoed in disbelief. “Would this offshore account and his business with the Fixer have anything to do with his accident?”
“Perhaps. That’s what I intend to find out,” Joe continued. “But I can tell you all that it won’t be easy. Those kinds of accounts are set up to stop exactly what I’m trying to do—unlock it. And it’s clear that Harrison went to great lengths to keep it a secret.”
“And you didn’t know anything about this either, Gabe?” Luc asked, zeroing in on his cousin, whom he’d always been at odds with. He never could accept that as much time that he’d spent with his father in the early days before his medical career took off, his father would turn to Gabe as the one to run much of the business. He’d listened to his father when he told Luc to go after his dreams. But never did he believe that in doing so, Gabe would be the one to rise up the ranks. Gabe had his father’s ear, his confidence, and every time Luc looked at his cousin he fumed at the decision he’d made. Sure, he was successful in his own right. He was a respected doctor, but Gabe had become the son to Harrison that Luc should have been. Gabe held the keys to the throne. Keys Luc had turned down. That was a reality that he would not ignore.
“This is the first I’m hearing of it.” Gabe draped his arm around his aunt’s shoulder. She rested against him.
“We may never know,” Mariella said with quiet resignation. She shared a knowing look with her family. The fact of the matter was the doctors were not optimistic about Harrison’s recovery. If he recovered at all, he might never be the man he was. She could not imagine the man she knew, vibrant, virile, full of vitality, a man who grabbed life by the throat, reduced to...
She didn’t want to let her mind go there, and most of all she had to keep up a good front for her family. In truth she was terrified. If the rumors were true, someone might have tried to kill her husband. At this moment she didn’t believe that Harrison had lost control of that car, no matter what she said in public. Whatever Harrison had gotten into might have put her family at risk. The thought of losing...because of Harrison—
Joe was her husband’s best friend and business partner. How much did he know that he wasn’t telling? What about Gabe—her husband’s protégé? And Luc was far too calm with the chaos swirling around him. Hmm... Rafe was brilliant—brilliant enough to be the Fixer? She clasped the shawl in her fist. She would have to let it all play out. At this point, no one was above her suspicion.
* * *
Guilt knotted in Joe’s stomach. Flashes of screaming and twisted metal snapped like synapses in his head. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the replay on TV of the yellow tape roping off the accident site and the emergency and police vehicles with their spinning lights and piercing sirens that flooded the area. But what would forever remain as his personal nightmare was seeing Harrison’s battered, bloodied, limp body airlifted from what looked like a level of hell. The press were vultures, capitalizing on pain. Harrison’s accident was all Joe’s fault. He should have never set that asshole PI on Harrison’s tail. Now the PI was unreachable. The cell phone was turned off, there was no activity at his office, and Joe had no idea how to contact him. He knew what the others didn’t—the PI had been on that highway the day of the accident, and he’d driven off and left Harrison to die. All Joe could think was the worst. He blinked the images away.
“I’m no replacement for Harrison, by any stretch of the imagination, but he trusted me,” Joe said.
“Apparently not very much,” Luc countered.
Joe took the barb in stride. “I’m sure Harrison had his reasons. He is a very complicated man. All I’m asking is that you trust me. I want to find out what really happened as much as each of you do, and I’ll protect this family and its legacy with my life.”
“Hmm, very noble,” Elana said while she absently twisted her radiant-cut red diamond engagement ring. The rare gem rivaled her mother’s, which pleased Elana to no end. Even though she had her doubts about her impending nuptials, she had no doubts about how much she loved her ring. If things went south she wondered if Thom would let her keep the ring.
“You stand to gain a lot if this whole thing goes sideways,” Luc said.
Joe visibly bristled. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Rafe kept his own counsel and watched the dynamics unfold.
“I won’t have you talking like that to Joe,” Mariella snapped. “He’s been at your father’s side for years.” She glanced at Joe and clasped his upper bicep. “If Harrison put his faith in you, so will I.”
He smiled with gratitude at Mariella. “I’ll get to the bottom of all this. I promise you.” He turned to the family. “I promise all of you.”
Elana didn’t particularly care for doggy style, but Jarrod loved it and she had to admit the overhead mirror—and now the latest addition, a mirrored headboard—that put their sweaty, athletic bodies on display was a real turn-on. She loved watching his beautiful face contort, his hard jaw clench and his eyes squeeze shut when she raised her perfectly firm derriere and gave back as good as she got.
She needed this—this hot, illicit sex—especially after her family’s reality-show performance at the hospital two days ago.
Jarrod looped his arm beneath her to pull her higher as he plowed into her, cupping the fullness of her breasts in his large hand. His groan rose from his toes, and Elana knew he was close. So was she.
Sex with Jarrod fueled her, validated her in a way that her mundane day-to-day life didn’t. With Jarrod, her body felt powerful. She was addicted to him. She was marrying Thom, but their sex life was nothing like this.
Jarrod’s pace quickened. The sound of wet flesh slapping together intensified.
Elana cried out, “Harder.” She reached back and grabbed his ass, digging her long pink nails into his flesh.
Jarrod grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back as he rode her to the finish line.
Elana witnessed their writhing reflections in the mirror as a powerful orgasm ripped through her. Her vision blurred; her body shook as if electrified. This was what she lived for, this sensation of power and bliss all mixed up together.
Jarrod pulled out and rolled onto his back, breathing hard. The dark curly hairs on his chest glistened with sweat.
Elana lifted one long leg and pointed her perfectly polished toes toward the ceiling before draping the dancer-like stem across Jarrod’s body. She twirled his chest hairs between her fingertips. She’d lost count of how many