Shattered Lies (Web of Lies #3)(85)
“I wish I could say the same,” Lizzy said with a slow grin.
“See, I’m not such a bad guy. Am I?”
“That’s still undecided. But know I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”
“Just as I keep an eye on the world.” He winked and sauntered off.
Son of a bitch. “It was you the whole time, wasn’t it?” Lizzy called out.
Sebastian turned with a look of exaggerated innocence. “Whatever do you mean?” he asked, walking back to her and stopping inches from her. His body radiated casualness that only came from a man who knew his own power. He looked down and smiled knowingly at her. Her stomach flipped and blood rushed to her cheeks at his devouring look.
“You were the biggest puppetmaster of them all,” she said as the realization set in. “You knew what Bertie was up to, and either for amusement or because you really were mad about being excluded, you turned the tables on him. You gave him the strings to pull, not the other way around. You didn’t have me spy for you, you were giving me a string to follow. You gave Trip a string to Vivian. You introduced Manuel to Roland. You were pulling the strings the entire time.”
Sebastian leaned down slowly with a predatory tilt of his lips that flashed a hit of white teeth. He cupped her face with his hand and ran his thumb lightly over her bottom lip leaving a trail of tingling heat. “If that were true, then I’d have you in my bed right now, and Birch would have never been in danger.”
“Even the great Sebastian Abel can’t control everything.”
“We’ll see,” he said before slowly placing his lips against hers for a kiss so brief she thought she’d imagined the caress of his lips. Sebastian dropped his hand, sent her a wink, and sauntered off down the hall. Lizzy watched as he slipped his hand into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and pressed a button before putting his phone back in his pocket. A second later her cellphone buzzed.
* * *
President Stratton Helps the FBI Bring Down Terror Ring Lead by Billionaire Bertie Geofferies.
An exposé by Flint Scott
* * *
Lizzy read the headline twice before looking up to see Sebastian walk out the side door. The door closed, and Lizzy finally took a breath. Looking down, she read the article that laid out Bertie’s desire for more power and his AI to take billions from the people after the planned attacks on the exchanges.
Flint told about a secret group of agents and military personnel handpicked by the president to chase down the powerful and elite members of Mollia Domini. Birch would be declared a hero now. The article read of his heroism at standing up to people who were trying to destroy the office of the presidency, of protecting civilians from the lies they were being told, of Tate’s sacrifice to save Birch’s life during the explosion, and of the secret group’s daring and life-risking missions . . . all without naming or identifying a single person on her team.
Two things were clear. Sebastian was the ultimate puppetmaster, and he’d done everything he could to keep Birch and innocent people safe. The remorse and pain exhibited in the article, talking about the loss of life and Birch’s injuries from the bombing, weren’t Flint’s words. They were Sebastian’s. The article even stated the country would be a worse place if President Stratton weren’t in it, the exact same thing Sebastian had said when he had found out about the bombing at the restaurant. Son of a bitch, Flint had been a string Sebastian had planted for them to use. Lizzy shook her head and went back to reading.
The article continued with those whose lives were given in sacrifice to protect Americans’ rights. A long part of it focused on Jason and Michelle Wolski, bringing tears to her eyes as the article showed a picture of Birch saluting Jason’s flag-draped coffin in front of lines of the wounded soldiers he and Michelle had helped.
The article ended with thanks given to those nameless heroes who helped protect the country and information that witnesses were already lined up to testify against Bertie Geofferies.
Looking at the door Sebastian had left through, Lizzy had to wonder, who was Sebastian Abel?
* * *
It had been forty-five minutes since Flint’s article had rocked the world. Tate had left immediately upon seeing it. There was something she had to see done, and she was the only person who could do it.
Tate balanced on her crutches as she raised her hand to knock on the cheery yellow door to the small ranch house on the quiet suburban street. The house was surrounded with brightly blooming flowers, a swing for an infant, and a little red wagon sitting on the sidewalk.
The door opened and a woman in her late fifties opened the door with a baby on her hip.
“Mrs. Bristol, I’m Tate Carlisle, and I was friends with your daughter, Sheila, and son-in-law, Joel Davidson.” Tate saw the women’s smile slip. “We need to talk. I have information about your daughter’s death and how your son-in-law helped bring down the ring currently being arrested for treason against the government.”
Mrs. Bristol looked down at her grandson and back to Tate. “Joel killed Sheila. That’s what the police told us.”
“Ma’am, your son-in-law died a hero, and I believe you have the right to know what really happened the night your daughter died.”
With tears streaming down her face, Mrs. Bristol stepped back, and Tate hobbled inside.