Promise Not To Tell(100)
He had to admit that he had expected different results. After all, the twins had inherited his DNA. But instead of proving the superiority of his genes, the pair had gone down like a brother-and-sister version of Bonnie and Clyde.
Very disappointing.
But, then, Abigail had contributed her share of genes to the twins, and she had been a weak, pathetic creature. Even after all these years, he still found it astounding that she and the other women had not only worked up the nerve to defy him, they had managed to steal what, at the time, had amounted to a small fortune.
He had gone on to make vastly more money in the years following the destruction of the cult, but he had never been able to forget the past.
He sat back in the chair and looked out at the sparkling sand and the jeweled ocean. The old rage welled up, threatening to choke him. He beat it back with the power of his will. He could not think clearly when he was in the grip of such a strong emotion – one of the few he actually experienced in full measure. And he needed to think clearly.
He needed more than a good strategy and a few pawns. He needed people he could trust. That meant he needed people who had secrets – dangerous secrets that they would do anything to keep.
After a while he took his phone out of his pocket and called a number.
The voice that answered was male, midthirties. It was infused with the cold arrogance that was the natural result of the combined forces of money and power.
“Who are you and how did you get this number?”
“Is that any way to greet your long-lost older brother?”
When you needed people you could count on, you turned to family.
CHAPTER 75
It did not rain on the day of the wedding.
Virginia looked out the window of her old upstairs bedroom and concluded that her grandmother’s garden had never looked more beautiful.
A white canopy framed with flowers stood at the ready. There were only a few rows of white folding chairs set up on the lawn, but they were all filled. Those on the groom’s side were occupied by Max Cutler’s new bride, Charlotte, and Charlotte’s stepsister, Jocelyn Pruett, as well as some friends and business colleagues. Reed Stephens was seated on that side of the aisle. The surprise guests were Xavier and his mother.
The bride’s side was full, too, with friends and acquaintances from the art world.
Octavia and Jessica fussed with the simple veil and the skirts of Virginia’s ankle-length white gown one last time and then stood back to admire their handiwork.
“You look so beautiful,” Octavia said. “And so happy – no, I take that back. You look as if you are overflowing with joy.”
Virginia blinked back the moisture that had somehow collected in her eyes.
“So do you,” she said.
“I am.” Octavia leaned forward briefly to brush her lips against Virginia’s cheek. “Anson was right. Happiness is overrated, but joy is a lasting gift.”
“You look spectacular,” Jessica said. She waved a cosmetic brush in triumph. “Don’t you dare cry and ruin all my hard work.”
“Time to go,” Octavia announced.
The three of them made their way downstairs and stopped in the doorway of the sunroom. Octavia and Jessica moved outside. The musicians struck a chord. Octavia and Jessica made their way along the carpet to the canopy.
Virginia’s pulse was dancing, but she was very certain she was not having an anxiety attack. She should know, she reminded herself. She was an expert on the subject. Octavia was right; the sensation she was experiencing today was joy.
Anson appeared in the doorway. He smiled at the sight of her and offered her his arm.
“You look beautiful,” he said. “Ready to do this?”
Virginia smiled. “Oh, yes.”
Together they went out into the sunshine and stopped at the top of the petal-strewn carpet. The musicians struck another chord. The guests rose. Virginia saw Cabot waiting for her. His foster brothers stood with him.
“Welcome to the family,” Anson said to Virginia.
She tucked her hand under his arm and walked with him down the aisle and into her future.