The night of the surgery, Denielle had run away. Apparently, she was having problems—as my PI phrased it—since her father remarried. She was seeing a therapist regularly. But that time, it had been worse. She had fought with her stepmother and disappeared. Somehow, she ended up in the pool. She had had swim lessons since she was a baby, and she showed no other injuries when she arrived at the hospital. Denielle simplydecidednot to come back up.
Her brother, who had been looking for her, found her submerged in the water. She couldn't have been under that long because she was revived without problems. But the stepmother threw a hissy fit for her husband to check on her himself. Immediately. I didn't think a surgeon would just abandon a patient. The procedure was pretty much over when Victor Keller put his fellow in charge to finish up. It should've been routine, but Ken went into tachycardia and a blood vessel in her brain burst. The fellow couldn't find it in time, and… I lost the person I loved most in the world because Denielletook a swim.
Later, my PI was the one who introduced me to George. They had served together, and he thought I would fit in with the crew my boss was building.
"Marcus."Denielle's calm tone severs the connection to the past, and the visual reminders dissolve like paint being washed off a canvas.
I focus on the woman in front of me. "You mean, how did I find out that you are the reason my sister didn't make it out of your father's operating room?"
Her lips press into a thin line, but she bobs her head.
"I know everything about you, Keller."
She inhales through her teeth.
"Your spoiled little ass didn't like that Daddy remarried, and you didn't get all his attention anymore. So, you threw a tantrum that almost killed you. But instead, you took my baby sister from me."
My throat feels like I swallowed a thousand razor blades with every new word. The tension in my muscles turns to lead, and I'm aware that if I don't move away from the woman, I will do something I'll regret. What, I don't know yet. The woman has the ability to force me to my knees with her beauty and my loathing for her existence equally.
I shift and stalk toward the staircase, grabbing my H&K on the way. Before I make it to the second step, her voice rings through the gym.
"Then you don't know everything."
CHAPTERSEVEN
DENIELLE
"WHAT THE HELLDO YOU MEAN YOU MOVED TO CALIFORNIA?!" My father's crimson face covers the screen of my phone. Spit flies out of his mouth with every word.
Fucking Oli, I made him swear not to tell them.
I bite the insides of my cheeks, aware of my father not nearly being done chewing me out. I'm a little surprised that it took him this long to figure it out. My parents knew that I was going to California for Audrey's birthday and probably assumed I had left early.
I was dead asleep from my late (or early) workout session when the buzzing on my nightstand began. He had to call three times before my foggy mind comprehended what the obnoxious sound was, which didn't help temper his mood. One doesn't ignore Victor Keller. If he doesn't have his eyes on you personally, he uses cameras to do so. Hence the security system in my childhood home, and him purchasing a condo with a doorman (whom he paid off to report my comings and goings) and video surveillance on every entry. Not unusual for a New York high-rise, but strategically planned by my father. Why my former doorman didn't report me leaving, I don't know. Nor do I really care. Probably because his extra cash flow would cease.
I'm done with the spying.
My friends always assumed that it was because of our financial status. None of them would've guessed the real reason. My father didn't like to be in the dark about anything, but his travels would force him to leave, and my mother would accompany him. Celine Keller may not be my mother by blood, but she raised me for most of my life. She has always wanted what's best for me but only ever had eyes for him.
After McKenna Baxter, my father took on more of an adviser role in his field. He still performed surgeries in very special circumstances, but his primary area of expertise became theoretical—another reason my father never treated me the same again. I ruined not only Marcus's life and future that day, but his, too.
I went to bed early after spending hours sending emails to every single business acquaintance on this side of the country. It's time to get back to work. I need to find a place of my own, get away from Marcus. I will never be able to fully shake him, but living on the same property…it's too much for both of us. Whenever I replay the departure back to LA, how his eyes had darkened when he scanned my body, a shiver runs down my spine and settles in parts that have no business being affected by him.
My father's rant continues. "I bought you that condo because youhad to bein New York to fulfill your dream. A dream, I might mention—"
"I got it, Dad!" There goes my intention to let him finish. My tone is harsher than I'd usually dare address Victor Keller with, but as soon as I was ripped out of the black void of sleep, the constricting weight settled back in my chest. There is no denying it. Something had been between Marcus and me down in the gym—something other than hatred. A crackling electricity had engulfed my whole body in flames. Things have changed since I stood up to him after the night at the vineyard, but the guilt still festers deep in my core. At the same time, I can't withstand the force drawing me to him. He also showed some of his cards last night—or more like which cards he is still missing. The same card I refuse to reveal to Lilly.
I inhale deeply. "I was going to tell you this week. I was at the vineyard for Audrey's birthday, and we just got back last night." That's a lie, but who cares. "Oli shouldn't have—"
"Your brother didn't rat you out, Denielle," Dad sneers, and I pause. "You know as well as I do that Oliver always covers for you."
"Then who?" The crease between my brows will require Botox.
"Collin called. You ended your engagement!" he gets louder, and there is movement in the background.
"Hi, Mom." I sigh. Of course she would be listening.
"Hi, honey," her soothing voice filters through the speaker. This woman never raises her tone, contrary to her husband. She is calm personified—one of the qualities I love about her.