Brave Enough (Tall, Dark, and Dangerous #3)(52)

“That’s just what he would say.”

Normally, I’d take exception to that, but I don’t have time to debate the despicable traits that I inherited from my father. I’ve got a wife to find and bring home.

“Promise me, Mom.”

Her sigh is weak but audible. “Fine. I promise. But you have to promise me something.”

“Like what?”

“Promise me that you’ll tell her the truth. All of it. Promise me that you’ll do your best to let her in. She’s good for you. I can see it. And she could mean the difference between you turning out like your biological father and you living a good, happy life that would make any mother proud.”

“So you’re saying I’m destined to be an awful person if I can’t get her back?”

“No, I’m just saying that a life without love leaves room to love the wrong things. Money, power, influence. Those kinds of love can destroy you.”

“You know I’m only interested in one thing, Mom.”

“But don’t let your determination to have your way cloud your view of right and wrong.”

“Are you saying that it already has? Is that what this is about?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Although her expression is grieved, she doesn’t try to argue with me. That alone is answer enough.

“I’ll have my phone with me at all times. Call if you need anything, okay?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“And remember your promise,” I tell her as I back out the door.

“Remember yours.”

As if I could forget.





TWENTY-SEVEN


Weatherly

I’ve been home less than two hours when a knock sounds at my door. There’s only one person it could be and I really don’t feel like dealing with him. But if I don’t do it now, he won’t let me rest until I do. One can only avoid William O’Neal for so long.

I swing open the door to my father’s angry red face. “I’ll sue that son of a bitch! If he thinks he can get away with this, he has no idea who in God’s great kingdom I am,” he says as he storms past me.

With a sigh, I close the door behind him, bracing myself for a furious tirade. “You can’t sue him for being a liar, Dad. It’s not illegal. If it were, half the people you do business with would be in jail.”

I don’t add that he, too, would likely be imprisoned.

“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do! I employ some of the most vicious lawyers on the eastern seaboard. I can do anything I damn well please.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. This is typical O’Neal temper rearing its ugly head. Reason and rationale go right out the window when he gets like this. He just wants someone’s blood and he wants it now.

I swallow my sigh, but I can’t keep the sadness from my voice. Not completely. “Maybe Donald will have some suggestions. Have you talked to him since I called? Did you give him this new information?”

“Yes. He’s looking into things from his end, but I’ve also reached out to a contact I have on the Randolph Consolidated board of directors. If this little * wants to play hardball, he can see firsthand how the big boys play.”

“What are you planning, Dad?”

“I did a little digging after we got off the phone. It seems that all the stock was left to Jameson Gregory Randolph III. While Tag’s blood might be Randolph blood, his legal name isn’t. Stock has to be transferred to a living heir or recipient. If Tag hasn’t made some other legal arrangements to take over Jameson Junior’s holdings as Tag Barton, he might not have a leg to stand on.”

“So he’d have nothing, then?”

My father’s smile is smug and mean as hell. “Not a damn thing except a job at a vineyard, which he’ll lose, and whatever meager savings he’s managed to amass on his own.”

I should be thrilled at the prospect of Tag being destitute after what he’s put me through, after what he attempted to do to me and my family. So why am I not? Why do I feel like this is taking things too far? He had no such qualms when he lied to me to get what he wanted. Why should I have any qualms about hurting him?

It does bring rise to one confusing question, though. “Dad, if Tag has controlling interest and all the wealth that goes along with being the sole heir of Jameson Randolph, why would he marry me for Chiara? Why would he even want it when he’s already got so much money? He could buy ten vineyards.”

“Because he’s a greedy, soulless bastard, just like his father.”

That’s a pat enough answer, but I’m not buying it. It makes no sense that Tag would go to such extremes for a modest vineyard. On top of that, the Tag who I came to know and fall in love with was anything but greedy. Of course, I obviously had no idea who he really was, so what the hell do I know?

That brings me back to the present, to my current predicament.

“Well, whatever happens from here on, I’m out. I just want the divorce and Chiara. The rest is between you two.”

I’m not sure I’ll ever even visit my family’s vineyard again, but this is more about the principle of the thing. One day I may change my mind. One day, when all of this is behind me and my heart is hopefully healed, I might want to revisit the place that I’ve loved for so much of my life.