Anything He Wants: The Betrayal(7)
Annoyance wrinkled her nose briefly, then the waterworks started. “How can you dream of keeping me away from my…”
“Well, hello, Mother. Did you miss me?”
Lucas’s snide words stopped the older woman in midtirade. Clearly shocked, she turned around to stare at her eldest son, who stood glaring at her from the center of the room. “What is he doing here?” she demanded, all traces of her previous grief disappearing in an instant.
“Lovely to see you, too.” Gone was the professional nonchalance Lucas had maintained throughout the conversation with Jeremiah. Sarcasm now laced everything, the bitter sneer across his face angled toward the thin woman who’d just entered the room. The scar across his cheek stood out as the skin around it darkened in repressed anger.
Georgia looked as though she’d bitten into a lemon as she rounded on Jeremiah. “Don’t listen to anything he says,” she spat. “He’s nothing but a liar and a cheat.”
Lucas threw his head back and barked a laugh, then bowed toward his mother, a mocking smile on his face. “I learned from the best. Inherited from both sides, in fact.”
Puzzled by the exchange, I looked up at Jeremiah for some clarification but he, too, seemed confused. “What’s going on?” he demanded.
“Nothing,” Georgia spat, then lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. “I’d like to leave now as it appears family means little in this house.”
“Oh, Mother, no. Please. Stay.” The sarcasm dripped off Lucas’s every word, but the woman merely crossed her arms without looking at her eldest son. A cruel smile tightened Lucas’s face but the wounded look in his eyes didn’t quite jibe with the expression. “Wouldn’t you like to know what happened to that thirty million dollars I was accused of stealing?” Lucas asked. “Surely curiosity had been eating away at you about how I spent it.”
Georgia flinched ever so slightly, the sign little more than a momentary purse of her lips. “I don’t need to hear this, it’s not my business,” she said, sniffing in disdain and pivoting toward the entryway. “When you’re little argument is over, I’ll be in my car.”
“Stop her.” Jeremiah’s command was immediately followed as the two guards along the doorway closed ranks, blocking the exit. Georgia squawked in outrage but Jeremiah ignored her, his attention on his brother. “I don’t like secrets,” he said, voice low.
“Yet you’ve helped perpetuate one for almost eight years now.” Lucas never stopped watching his mother, even when she refused to return the favor. His eyes were a cauldron of emotions, flickering and changing so fast it was difficult to decipher anything in particular. “Come now, Mother, should I tell him or would you like to do the honors?”
Giving an irritated groan that sounded childish coming from the older woman, Georgia turned her back on her eldest son. Suddenly realizing that she had an audience scrutinizing her every move, she smoothed her features and waved her hand airily. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Now if you’ll excuse me…”
Lucas’s eyes narrowed at the display, then he turned to Jeremiah. “Have you ever wondered where Mother gets all her money?”
The question seemed to startle Jeremiah. He gave his brother a long, hard look before turning to glance at his mother. I followed his gaze and wondered if he was thinking the same thing as me. Georgia Hamilton wasn’t a good an actress; she avoided anyone’s eyes, her head swiveling from one exit to another as if pondering which one would get her away quicker. Finally, she met Jeremiah’s look and rolled her eyes. “Come on, you don’t actually believe him do you?” she snapped.
“Believe what?” Jeremiah looked between his family members, confusion mixing with annoyance. Neither his brother nor his mother seemed inclined to do more than glare at one another, so he raised his voice and asked again, “I’m not to believe what?”
A cell phone rang, the sharp sound piercing the terse atmosphere. Ethan melted out of the room as the answer to Jeremiah’s question hit me like a ton of bricks. Oh, my God. “Your mother was the one who stole the money.”
I hadn’t meant to vocalize my thoughts, it was only a theory, but the words electrified the audience. “That’s absurd!” she snapped. Georgia rounded on me, face contorting in anger. It was an odd sight to behold, as much of her face had been deadened by Botox injections and their near-tranquility didn’t match the obvious rage in her eyes. “What would you know anyway? You’re just the trollop my son brought home.”