The Fearless King (The Kings #2)(67)

The image of her mother after that meeting with the family lawyer skated through her mind. The only time she’d ever seen Lydia look something close to defeated. If my mother couldn’t best them, how in the hell do I think I can?

She shoved the dark thoughts away. She had to power through this as if Esther were just another business competitor. That, Journey could handle. “Even if you—excuse me, I mean Elliott—had planned on replacing key employees, replacing an entire department is costly and ineffective. We have the best Houston has to offer on staff, and you won’t convince them to stay with him helming the ship.”

Esther sipped her tea from its porcelain cup. It had frolicking kittens painted on the side, which just added to the surrealism of the moment. “You assume that your father isn’t making choices to best benefit the company. You’re taking this whole thing rather personally, aren’t you?”

“Choices to best benefit the company. Funny you should say that.” She folded her hands in her lap. “Explain to me how orchestrating a hit-and-run that almost killed Eliza is benefiting the company?”

That got Esther’s attention. She straightened, something resembling worry flickering across her face. “Is she well?”

“As well as can be expected considering the circumstances. Quite a coincidence that she was on her way to the airport to jet out of Houston and never return when it happened.”

Understanding dawned, quickly replaced by cold calculation. “You can’t honestly think that your father had anything to do with this. Eliza is instrumental in moving Kingdom Corp into the future. Elliott wouldn’t endanger that over something as petty as her leaving town.” Esther sighed and leaned back. “You always were a dramatic child. Elliott would never hurt one of his children. Never.”

Frustration bloomed, and she had to press her lips together to stop from screaming at her grandmother. Hurt was the only thing Elliott was capable of doling out to his children, and Esther wasn’t stupid. Even if she didn’t believe Lydia’s claims on behalf of the children, she was more than capable of looking into things and coming to her own conclusions. Whether she had done that or not was irrelevant. She knew what he was accused of, and she had the gall to make that statement to Journey’s face.

There would be no winning this argument today. Esther was too smart to concede anything now, but she was also too smart to let her son continue fucking things up. She would rein him in. She had to if she didn’t want a full-on rebellion on her hands. The only reason she would have sent in Elliott was to ensure what passed for a bloodless coup.

She knew that wouldn’t happen now.

Journey would go down fighting, which meant things would get very, very ugly.

Very ugly wasn’t good for business, and if there was one thing Esther prized above all others, it was business.

Journey set her jaw and stood. “Thank you for seeing me.” She turned and strode toward the door.

She barely made it three steps before her grandmother’s voice stopped her.

“I hear that you’re seeing that boy, Frank Evans.” She tsked. “Honestly, Journey. Even if you’re set on infuriating your family, dating one of his kind is going too far.”

She spun on her heel and glared. There was no mistaking what Esther meant. “Racism isn’t a good look for you, Grandmother.” There was so much more to say, but Journey reined in her rage. It didn’t matter what Esther thought of Frank. He was better than her—better than all the Bancrofts piled together. She lifted her chin. “I highly suggest you bring your mad dog to heel before he does something irreparable. Time is of the essence.”

She walked out and this time her grandmother didn’t call her back. It was just as well. Journey had nothing else to say.

She had to believe there was still time to save the company. To save what was left of their family.

She pushed the button to call the elevator, and a prickle crept down her spine. Journey turned, her hand going to her purse where she’d stashed her gun, but the hallway was empty. A flash of a reflective surface caught her eye, dragging her attention up to the camera situated in the ceiling. Many residences had security cameras—her own included—but she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was on the other side of those cameras.

Someone who wanted to hurt her.

She deliberately turned back to the elevator doors, tracking the ascending numbers. Journey pulled out her phone and called José. She barely waited for him to answer before she cut in. “I’m getting in the elevator in approximately thirty seconds and coming down to the lobby.”

“Trouble?”

Thank God that Frank’s men were just as astute as he was. “I don’t know, but I’d rather be paranoid given the current circumstances.” She’d forgotten about her security detail too many times already—an unforgivably stupid sin. They were there for her protection. Using a tool at her disposal didn’t make her weak. It made her smart.

The doors opened and she stepped into the elevator. Journey kept her phone handy during the descent, but no one joined her. It was just as well. With her nerves strung tightly enough to snap, she couldn’t be sure of her response to a perceived threat. Or if she’d even be able to register a perceived threat from a real one.

Stop thinking like that. Get to the lobby, get the men, get the fuck out.