The Lion's Den(119)

Thirty million dollars. That’s insane. I can’t even imagine it. It would mean paying off my parents’ mortgage, buying a new car…I wouldn’t ever have to bartend again. It’s beyond comprehension.

“And five million in a trust for Amythest’s mother,” Eric continues, looking to Vinny for confirmation. “For when she completes rehab. Summer”—he fixes his eyes on Summer—“you’re turning yourself in for pushing Amythest over the side of the boat.”

Her face crumples. Her mouth opens in protest, but no words come out. Tears spill from her eyes, leaving tracks of mascara down her face.

“That’s harsh,” John protests.

“What the hell do you care?” he scoffs. “She was screwing me behind your back every chance she got. Until she tried to kill me.”

John clenches his jaw.

“It’s not true,” Summer cries to John, placing her hand on his thigh.

Eric and John both ignore her. “She turns herself in; she’ll get five to ten for manslaughter, less if she behaves,” Eric says.

“A small price to pay for a life,” I add.

“You’ll see that she complies.” Eric raises his brows at his father. “Remember, if any of these directions are disregarded, or anything happens to Belle or me, or anyone we’re close to, the information I have will be sent to every relevant news outlet.”

“If you’d been this clever to begin with, you could have made something of yourself,” John says.

“Oh, I have, Dad.” Eric slaps a contract in front of his father and throws a pen down. “Your resignation.”

John stares hard at his son and then picks up the contract to read it over carefully. Eric sets a one-page document in front of Summer. “Your confession.”

She turns to me with tears in her eyes. “Belle, you know I’d never do anything to hurt you.” For just a moment, I see my best friend again, my confidante and ally, and my heart goes out to her.

But only for a moment. Maybe someday I’ll be able to forgive, but I can’t forget what she’s done. And I don’t want to. She’d toss me aside just as easily as she tossed Amythest off that boat. “Actually, Summer, I have our confrontation last night on tape. So, as it turns out, I know you would.”

I can feel others in the room turn to look at me in surprise as I take Amythest’s bejeweled phone from my purse and hold it up for everyone to see. But I keep my gaze locked on Summer’s, watching her features harden as she morphs back into the monster she’s become.

“And, John,” I continue, “in case you don’t recognize it, this is Amythest’s phone. The same one she used to record the, uh…shower she gave you.” Summer casts a nasty glance in his direction as he narrows his eyes at me.

There’s silence for a moment before John scribbles his name and tosses his contract at Eric, then spins on Summer. “Just sign the damn thing,” he spits.

Eric gathers the two signed contracts from the table and smiles at me. “Anything else you’d like, Belle?”

I fix my eyes on Summer, Amythest’s bone-chilling scream ringing in my ears. Part of me wants her to apologize—or more accurately, to grovel on her knees and beg for her life. I’m tempted to wrench that sparkling sapphire off her finger and throw it in the ocean. But no. That’s not who I want to be.

I make sure she’s watching as I walk over and thread my fingers through Eric’s. “I have everything I need.”

He looks at me, a grin spreading across his face. So I was right: the photo in his bedside drawer did mean something. We’ll have a long road ahead of us, but for the moment, I feel his fingers squeeze mine and I figure we’ll be all right.

“Eric.” Dylan rises from his chair and approaches his brother. I’d nearly forgotten he was there.

Eric considers him for a time before nodding. “We’ll talk.”

Dylan throws his arms around him. “I missed you.”

After a moment, Eric pats him on the back. Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement in the hall and notice that two buff guys dressed in black have taken up residence in the doorway next to Vinny.

John cuts his eyes to the men. “Unnecessary.”

“You have your men, I have mine,” Eric returns calmly. “This is the last time I’ll see you. My men will escort you on your plane—or rather, my plane, since Lionshare is now mine—back to New York, where there’s a press conference tomorrow to announce your resignation. The rest of Summer’s friends will be flown back commercial, and you should know that the NDAs they signed have been voided, as I am now the head of the company. I’m sure the authorities will want to talk to them once Summer turns herself in.” He glances at me. “We’ll be taking the helicopter.”

He leans in and kisses his grandmother on the cheek. “Merci for helping me make this meeting happen. Je t’aime.”

“Je t’aime,” she says.

Final words I could say to Summer swirl through my mind as Eric and I exit the room, but they’re all vengeful or trite, and none of them do me any good. And so I leave without a backward glance.

We sprint across the gravel driveway and through what looks to be a rose garden, to where the helicopter waits on the tennis court, headlights blazing. A smartly uniformed pilot hands us up into the cabin, and the blades begin to turn.