Luck of the Devil (The Forge Trilogy #2)(47)
“Someone did it on purpose. There’s no way it was an accident or routine failure.”
Indy jerks back as if someone pushed her. “Someone . . . someone wanted us to crash?”
“Possibly. Or they wanted you to stay put and not be able to leave. But we always have a plan B, and when your gut said something was wrong, you were right.”
She uncrosses her arms. Slowly, she walks toward the wooden armchair opposite my desk and lowers herself into it. “Bastien.”
“Possibly, but he was there before and during the entire game, so I don’t know when he’d personally have had the opportunity. But someone working for him could have done it.”
“That motherfucker.” Her chest heaves, widening the gaping lapels of her robe as anger rises on her face. “What is his fucking problem?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out—whether this goes beyond the revenge I’ve been exacting, or if this is spurred by something different.”
“Like what?”
I tap the contract on my desk that her father marked up while she was away that night. “I know you don’t want to hear about this.”
She follows my line of sight. “This has to do with my father, doesn’t it?”
“Possibly.”
She closes her eyes and presses her lips together. “Then just tell me.”
“He’s a wealthy man. A very wealthy man.”
“So what?” India asks as the clouds cover the morning sun and the room turns dark.
“That makes you a very wealthy heiress, because you stand to inherit it all.”
48
India
I’m nobody’s fool . . . except, apparently, when it comes to Jericho Forge. “That’s why you married me without a prenup. So you’d get half of everything he has when he dies.”
It’s not a question; it’s a statement. There’s no way in hell he would have done such a thing unless it was financially beneficial. I hate those words even more now than I did before.
“It crossed my mind, but I also knew there was a very small probability our marriage would last that long.” He says it casually, but it feels like a slap to the face.
“If that wasn’t your motivation, then why the hell did you marry me?”
“Whether you believe me or not, it wasn’t all about leverage. It was also to protect you.”
Forge’s posture exudes confidence, like he knows he did the right thing and doesn’t feel the least bit of guilt over keeping any of this from me.
He tried to tell you, the whisper in my head chimes in. You didn’t want to hear it. I tell that voice to shut the hell up and glare at the man in front of me, hoping my blue eyes freeze him in place.
“Protect me from what?”
“Whatever you think of me, I wasn’t about to find you for your father and turn you over to him without any concern for your safety. I might be a fucking asshole, but even I wouldn’t take that chance with someone’s life.”
Blood thunders through my head like a freight train. “You thought he might want to do me harm after looking for me all these years? And you still told him you found me?”
A muscle ticks in Forge’s jaw. I hit a nerve with that question.
“I didn’t know what his plan was, but I wasn’t going to sacrifice you to feed my own ambition. It was my contingency plan. As long as you’re tied to me, you’re safe.”
A choked laugh gets caught in my throat. “Are you serious? Clearly, I’m not fucking safe, because someone messed with your goddamned helicopter and I could’ve died!”
I shove out of the chair and pace the room. There’s too much information swirling in my head now that I never wanted to know.
I buried my head in the sand the last time he tried to tell me about my father, and I shouldn’t have. Or maybe I wish I could go back to when I was lying in bed and knew none of this. Either way, I prefer ignorance to the cold, hard truth.
What if my father is a terrible person? What if he’s done horrible things? Is that why Forge felt the need to take extra precautions?
Forge’s chair scrapes across the tile floor. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. If you believe nothing else I say, believe that.”
I spin to face him. “I don’t know what the fuck to believe anymore. All I know is that the sooner you finish this fucking business deal, the sooner I can have my divorce and get back to living my life.”
“It’s not that simple. Now you know who you are. Other people know who you are. Your life will never be the same as it was before.” He stands like a tyrant behind his desk, and I don’t like being dictated to.
I jam my hands in my messy hair and grip my head as I pace in the other direction. “And whose fault is that? What did I do to deserve this? I can’t control a goddamned bit of it, so why should I have to roll over and accept being a pawn in your fucking game?”
When I spin around again, I drop my hands and use them to punctuate every single last word I have to say.
“No. Fuck that. I’m going to pack my shit and go to Prague and win a boatload of fucking money at the grand prix, and then I’m gone. You’ll never find me, Alanna, or Summer ever fucking again.”