Sweet Retribution (Rydeville High Elite #3)(99)

The crowd looks over my head at the images Xavier is projecting on to the screen.

“Every facet of the persona he has presented is fake. Even his engagement is a ruse, and he has no plans to marry Patrice. It’s one of the reasons why she’s been having an affair with Atticus Anderson behind my father’s back.”

Gasps ring out around the vast space, and I know Xavier has switched the feed to some stills from the footage we have of Patrice in bed with Kai’s father. Most of the elite look mildly amused, because there is no shame or shock at this kind of usual behavior. But most family members are disgusted, and it shows on their expressions. While I’m sure many of them are accustomed to what goes on at Parkhurst, it’s distasteful to have it so blatantly referred to.

Patrice jumps up, brushing past people in her haste to exit her row and get the hell out of here. I look to where Atticus is sitting, enjoying the panicked expression on his face. He has just realized how short-lived his elite return was.

“When my brother and I turn eighteen in two months, my father’s shares in Manning Motors will divert to us.” Drew hands an envelope to the president who is now standing directly behind me. “All board members have signed new contracts and statements of allegiance to us. Furthermore, they have publicly announced their separation from all actions and activities of Michael Hearst in a televised conference happening right now.”

I glance over my shoulder at the screen, watching as the chairman of the board addresses an assembled crowd of reporters at Manning Motors HQ, explaining they have fired Michael Hearst as CEO and replaced him with an interim CEO.

Down in the front row, Father is struggling to get to his feet. Sweat pumps out of his brow, and he’s staggering and swaying all over the place. The president comes up beside me, scowling as he looks at him. He takes control of the mic from me. “Guards, seize that man and bring him to me.”

“But that is not his only crime,” Drew says, taking control of the mic from the president.

Cries of outrage ring around the room as the footage from Christmas Day airs.

Now this is something the elite won’t appreciate.

While blackmail and murder are commonplace, taking out a high-ranking elite member without justification and in such a cold, clinical way, is frowned upon. Especially when the man committing murder of a founding father is an illegitimate bastard only in the organization by virtue of marriage.

I so wanted to warn Charlie about this, but it was too risky.

“This footage was taken last December,” Drew continues, “and it shows our father murdering Charles Barron, a high-ranking elite member and a descendant of a founding family from our hometown of Rydeville, in cold blood.”

“And previously,” I add, leaning in beside Drew as Kai and Rick edge closer to the stage. “He was instrumental in the murder of Emma Anderson, the wife of another founding father from Rydeville, although it was actually Atticus Anderson who killed his wife.”

We debated whether to bring it up because we have no evidence, but we have enough evidence to support all our other allegations that we felt it was worth taking this risk. No one is going to focus on the one accusation we have no backing for, because they will be too caught up in the severity of all the other accusations.

“What?” Father blurts as he’s dragged onto the stage by two guards.

“You were right to keep your enemies close, Father,” I hiss as he’s shoved into a chair and one wrist is handcuffed to the wooden arm. “It’s a pity you lost sight of it though. Christian has known for years, and he’s kept that from you.” It took me a while to figure that one out, but Christian’s comments last night confirmed it.

“This is bullshit,” Father yells. “And I can explain. I didn’t kill Emma Anderson, and I was forced to kill Charles Barron in self-defense. He’s the one who pulled a gun on me.”

“Liar!” Charlie roars from the crowd. “You murdered him because he was trying to stop you. To stop this.”

More murmurings race through the crowd as Charlie approaches the podium.

“Order,” the president commands, yelling into the mic.

“And my daughter lies about Manning Motors,” Father continues, and I love the note of desperation in his voice and the panicked look in his eyes. For once, Michael Hearst takes a back seat, and his arrogant veneer has fallen away. But he wouldn’t be who he is without trying. “Any contracts signed with the board are null and void because my daughter’s shares are already entrusted to me by her husband.”

“No, they’re not,” I say, as Kai jumps up onto the stage the same time Charlie approaches from the other side.

“I’m sorry,” I mouth at Charlie before taking Kai’s hand and turning to my father. “Because that wedding you forced me into on Christmas Day was not legal.” I take the copy of our marriage certificate from Kai’s hand and thrust it in the bastard’s face. “I married Kaiden Anderson three days previously. He’s my legally wedded husband, and he has already reassigned his shares to me.”

Charlie almost falls off the stage in shock.

Father barks out a hoarse laugh, crumpling the paper in his hand. “It doesn’t matter anyway, because those shares are still mine by reason of marriage.”

More outraged cries reverberate around the room, and family members get to their feet, clasping hands over their mouths.