The Pretend Girlfriend (A Billionaire Love Story #1)(108)

They waited a few moments, but Henry didn't respond. So Aiden filled the silence. "I also know about that little tax trick you've been exploiting. I'm sure the IRS would love to question you about it. Not to mention the board of directors."

Sharp sounds came out of the phone. It took Gwen a second to recognize clapping. "Congratulations. So, you're going to sell out your own father, I take it?"

"I don't want to. That's up to you. So long as you agree to call this off and leave Gwen and me to do as we please..."

Henry started laughing. It continued for an awkwardly long time, and Gwen could picture the older man wiping tears from the corners of his eyes.

"No, you won't. I know what sort of man you're pretending to be, and it isn't the kind that blackmails their own father. Thank you for staying on the line so long to give me your location. I know a few enterprising photographers who will love that information."

Gwen resisted the urge to go over to the window to check for helicopters. However, it wasn't so hard to do. Not with her shock. She'd been somehow certain, after that talk with Aiden, that Henry would accept the ceasefire and back down.

Aiden swallowed heavily. His face became flushed, and Gwen knew that he'd thought the same thing.

"Then I'm sorry, Henry. I'll be forwarding this information to my lawyer after I end this call. He'll see to it that the appropriate parties get access."

With a final chuckle, Henry hung up on them.

***

"This will finish it, at least," Aiden said. He'd attached the files to an email meant for his lawyer, as well as instructions on what to do with the information.

He'd also spent the last hour sitting in that wingback chair, his thumb hovering over the send button. The phone kept going dark and trying to lock on him, so he had to keep touching the screen.

Again, Gwen wished Beatrice were here. That drink she'd talked about having had probably multiplied to half a dozen or so by now. Or perhaps she'd met a guy. Either way, she wasn't answering calls or texts, and certainly wasn't at Gwen's side where she needed her most.

"There's got to be another way," Gwen said.

Aiden shook his head. "We've been over this. There isn't. Henry thinks he's called my bluff. If I don't do this, he will know that he can do whatever he wants to us and that we won't do anything back but complain. This is the only thing he understands: power, forcing people into doing what you want them to do."

Ah, yes, Gwen thought, the lifelong father-son conflict resurfaces once more. She wondered how many times in the past Henry had utterly crushed his son's efforts at resisting his will. And all this some sort of misguided revenge on Henry's part for the grievances he clutched onto surrounding his wife's passing.

These two really needed some family counseling. Or even just an honest-to-God heart-to-heart sometime.

"So why aren't you sending it? What's stopping you?" Gwen said.

Aiden struggled to answer, the frustration twisting his handsome face.

Gwen answered for him. "It's because you're not like your father, Aiden. And doing this would make you like him. You know that's wrong. That's why you can't make yourself send those documents."


"I'm sorry!" Aiden said. He tossed the phone onto the bed and buried his face in his hands, running his fingers up into his hair. "I'm sorry, I can't do it. I don't know what to do..."

She went to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders even as her heart throbbed in painful empathy for him. This had to be so difficult. But she loved him more for his decision, because it was the right one, despite not being the easy one. "It's okay. We'll figure something out. This is meant to be. It will work out."

Aiden's phone started buzzing on the bed. Going over, Gwen picked it up and glanced down at the screen. She frowned.

"It's the Beth Israel Medical Center," she said, handing him the cell.





Chapter 34


No one really knows how they'll react when something happens to a close family member. Not even a family member you think you hate. People think they'll behave one way, but when it comes down to it, you just can't know.

So went Gwen's thoughts as they rushed through the lobby of the emergency room, running up to the desk where the nurse sat. She hardly noticed the antiseptic smell of the place, or the harsh white fluorescent lights running along the ceiling. She hardly thought about how much she hated hospitals, and her secret fear of going to them. People only went to hospitals because they were sick or hurt, or because they needed to go see someone who was themselves sick or hurt.

He wasn't even her father, and Gwen still felt shell-shocked, empty and disconnected. Almost as though she watched herself from some outside perspective. She had no idea how Aiden felt within. He'd hardly said anything since taking the call.

"Henry Manning," he said to the nurse, breathless, "I'm his son."

The nurse, an older woman with her grey-streaked hair tied back in a tight bun, knew how to do her job well. She addressed him calmly while she checked her computer.

"Yes, he arrived here about half an hour ago. I have him listed in emergency surgery."

Cold fingers squeezed themselves around Gwen's heart. All Aiden had been able to tell her was that there had been a car accident.