What did that mean for him and Violet? They had agreed to stay married. Maybe that had been shortsighted of him. Or she’d gotten him so accustomed to thinking positive that he hadn’t truly believed he would lose. Tonight they would have to discuss what changes the future would bring.
Violet sent him a text as he entered the suite to say she was running fifteen minutes late and that the dinner she’d ordered would arrive before she did. JT saw her dining table was littered with copies of Tiberius’s files on his family. They’d been going through them the night before, talking strategy. A waste of time. It would take a miracle to topple his father’s solid base of supporters.
Was it idiotic of him to ignore the possibility that his father had committed a crime? Preston Rhodes, or George Barnes if he bought into Scarlett’s theory, was a ruthless bastard to those who stood in his way. He’d schemed to turn JT’s grandfather against his only son. He’d psychologically abused his wife until she’d turned to drugs and alcohol and overdosed. And he’d blackmailed a Stone Properties stockholder to manipulate the annual vote in his favor.
Maybe it was time someone pushed back. And who better than the son he was determined to hurt next.
Not wanting to start their evening by talking about his father, JT gathered the files and carried them into her home office. He set the pile on her desk and was turning to go when a lone file caught his eye.
JT looked closer and went cold as he spied his name in Tiberius’s handwriting on the tab.
Violet had a file on him.
If Tiberius had investigated Preston’s past, didn’t it make sense that he’d have looked at JT as well? And when he’d left his files to Scarlett, of course she would share his file with her sister.
Dread collecting in the pit of his stomach, JT opened the file and stared at the top sheet. It was the police report on his mother’s death. They’d ruled it an accidental overdose but right there in black and white was JT’s darkest secret.
How long had Violet pretended not to know what he’d done? Had she played him for a fool from the start? Acted as if it was important that he confide in her when she’d already known every agonizing truth of his childhood. Bile rose in JT’s throat at her betrayal.
Below the police report was a copy of the psychiatrist’s initial assessment when JT had been hospitalized for a severe concussion and broken ribs after trying to jump his bicycle over his father’s yellow Ferrari convertible. He’d attempted the risky stunt a month after his mother’s death. Based on the timing, the doctor had determined he was depressed and put him on medication. But no pill had been capable of taking away JT’s guilt.
A knock sounded on the suite’s front door startling JT. For a long black moment he’d been twelve again, hearing the news that his mother was dead. Lightheaded, he backed away from Violet’s desk and those horrible childhood memories.
His heart pounded madly as he shook his head to clear it. There was a second knock on the front door. Rousing himself, JT made his way through the living room and let in the waiter. The smell of the food turned his stomach as it passed and he stood in the doorway while the man unloaded the dishes onto the dining room table. Moving on autopilot, JT signed for their dinner and was about to close the door when Violet stepped off the elevator and headed down the hallway towards him.
“It smells wonderful,” she said cheerfully, lifting on tiptoe to press her lips to his.
JT stood with his hands at his sides and didn’t return her kiss. She pulled back with a frown and surveyed his expression.
“What’s happened?” she asked, closing the door.
“You have a file on me.”
Guilt flashed across her lovely features and drove a spear into his heart. “Tiberius had a file on all of us.”
“All this time you’ve been lying to me.” A heavy note of sadness weighed down his voice.
“That’s not true.”
“You’ve known everything all along and pretended you didn’t.”
“Scarlett gave me the file,” Violet explained. “But I’ve never opened it. If I’ve done anything wrong it was in not handing over the file to you as soon as I got it.”
“You really expect me to believe that you didn’t satisfy your curiosity about me by reading what my uncle dug up about my life?”
“If I had, why would I bother to ask you to share your past with me?”
“To make me believe you were the perfect woman for me. It’s all in there, you know. The psychologist’s report explains that before my mother’s death I badly wanted her love and when she chose my father over me I retreated into belligerence and bad behavior. The more I acted out, the less likely it was that anyone would love me. And then you came along, and knowing what I most wanted was what I most feared, you did everything you could to make me trust you.”