Schooled in Revenge (17 page)

“We were good, weren’t we?” Charlie remembered. “Before everything went bad?”

The reminder was just what she needed. Everything
had
gone bad. Worse than bad.

“Just answer me this, Charlie: Was any of it real?”

He stepped away, putting a few inches between their bodies, and twirled her. She fanned out, eyes still on his, before spinning back into him.

“Well?” she pressed, surprised to find she wanted an answer.

“It all got blurred together,” he admitted.

“There’s nothing you can say for certain wasn’t a part of the con?”

He turned her around as the music changed again. They began to waltz slowly.

“Love,” he said simply.

At first, Ava was thrown. It wasn’t the answer she had expected. But then she realized Charlie’s gaze was fixed not on her face, but on something just over her shoulder.

Glancing behind her, she saw the tall blonde approaching. He hadn’t been speaking to her at all.

Had he?

Ava’s and Charlie’s bodies quickly unfurled.

“Love, this is—” Charlie began.

Bo extended an elegant hand. “Ava Winters, yes?”

They shook hands, Bo sizing up Ava with a narrowing of her made-up eyes.

“Charlie,” Bo said, “there are some people I’d like you to meet.” She looked at Ava. “Do you mind if I steal him for a minute?”

Ava shook her head. “Not at all.”

Charlie leaned toward Ava as Bo turned away, heading for the bar. “Why are you here?”

“I just want to talk, Charlie.”

“Here?”

“No, not here.”

“Then where?”

Her stare was meaningful. “You know where.”

In an alcove off the tasting room, Reena had her hands full.

She’d been dodging Reinhardt’s advances—left, right, and literally in between—since they’d left the party. She’d had enough batting of eyes and licking of lips to last a lifetime. It disgusted her. He disgusted her. But it was important she play the part of the debauched whore.

And play it she would.

For Cruz and everyone else Reinhardt had screwed over.

Reinhardt gawked at her like a starving hyena, running a hand along her shoulder, dangerously close to her breast.

“I have a meeting upstairs in a half an hour,” he said. “Why don’t you wait for me down here.”

She moved closer, running a hand up his chest and biting her lower lip. “A half an hour is a long time,” she purred. “Maybe I could keep you company until then.”

She was going to listen in on that meeting, one way or another.

“What do you have in mind?”

She leaned in, nibbling his ear. “Exactly what you paid for,” she whispered.

He took her hand, pressing dry lips to her knuckles, his tongue flicking over her skin like slime. “I’ll lead the way.”

Reena followed him up the stairs, both exhilarated and scared. She didn’t have the key to ruining him completely. Not yet. But they were close. She would play her part. She just hoped she could hold him off until Wells made his appearance.

Reinhardt wrapped his arm around her as they reached the top of the stairs, an elaborate chandelier hanging above them. For a moment, she imagined pushing his body over the railing, watching him slam into the marble below.

It would be so easy. And feel so good.

But that wouldn’t save Simon. And it wasn’t part of the mission.

His hand slid lower, squeezing her ass as they headed for the double doors at the end of the hall. She bit her inner cheek to hold back her repulsion, forcing a smile. She said she’d do anything for vengeance.

But as they entered Reinhardt’s master suite, she just hoped she wouldn’t have to.

“We should be in there with them,” Jane said, nervously tapping one heeled foot.

“Relax,” Shay said. “We’re staying here. If they need us, I’ll take care of it.”

They sat in Marie’s sedan, watching a battalion of shaggy-haired valets in red suits park both vintage automobiles and electric cars as Reinhardt’s security muscled around the front of the property.

Shay’s cavalier attitude only served to make her angry. Everyone else was inside working while she stayed in the car with Shay like a little kid, too young to see the late show.

“Why did Takeda send me a dress if I’m going to be stuck in this car?” she asked.

“Everyone at the party is dressed up. We might be outside, but we still need to blend in,” he explained.

“Why even bring me if I’m not going to do anything?” she fumed.

“So I can keep an eye on you.”

She crossed her hands over her chest, knowing it made her look childish, but not caring.

“This is bullshit,” she said. “Whatever—and whoever—is inside that estate might be able to unlock my memory. The only thing I have now is Takeda’s training. I’m sick of everyone else making these decisions for me.”

“Bullshit?” He grinned. “Well, I’m glad you have your voice back.”

She turned to the window. “That doesn’t let you off the hook.”

Silence enveloped the car.

“I remember when I first saw you,” he finally said, “lying on the bed in your
washitsu.
Takeda knew you’d come out of it stronger than ever, but me… I wasn’t so sure.”

She looked at him in surprise. “I don’t remember seeing you on Rebun.”

“Takeda assigned me to infiltrate Cain’s organization. I left before you woke up.”

“So Cain, Reinhardt… all of this, it’s about you, too? Part of your revenge?” she asked, momentarily distracted from her anger by the possibility of learning something about Shay.

He looked away. “The difference between you and me, Jane, is that you have secrets you want to remember. I have secrets I wish I could forget.”

“That’s not an answer.” She said it softly, not wanting to take advantage of Shay’s unusual display of vulnerability. “But I have to admit that there has always been something familiar about you. Weird, since you left Rebun Island before I even woke up.”

He put his hand gently on hers. “Does this help?”

She looked down at their hands, resting on the console of the sedan. Strangely, there was something familiar about it.

“Close your eyes,” he said, his voice hoarse.

She did it without question.

“For the first two weeks you were on Rebun Island”—his voice wrapped around her like velvet in the hushed and darkened car—“I held your hand every night before bed. I even talked to you sometimes, although I didn’t know if you could hear me. I told Takeda it was because I didn’t want you to feel alone, but the truth is, I was more alone than anyone.”

She opened her eyes, closing her hand around his, studying his scarred knuckles. “Now I know why you feel so familiar.”

Reinhardt kissed Reena’s neck as his hand crept up Reena’s thigh. They were in the large master bedroom lying on his massive four-poster bed.

She slapped his hand away, trying to maintain a teasing smile. She needed to string him along a little, keep him going until the meeting with Wells.

Reinhardt chuckled.

“Maybe a drink,” she suggested, “to loosen things up.”

Ignoring the suggestion, he started sliding the dress off her shoulder. “How about I quench your thirst instead?”

He touched his lips to her neck, traveling toward her chest. She cringed, forcing herself not to pull away. She thought of Cruz instead, his tender touch, the adoration in his eyes when he looked at her.

But when Reinhardt’s tongue moved farther downward, she knew it was time for Plan B.

Reaching for her garter, she touched the small knife she’d taken from Tavern Red, her own secret backup in case things went wrong. She was holding the blade over his back, about to carve the life out of him, when a knock sounded at the door.

He groaned, glancing at his fancy watch. Reena slid the knife back into her garter as he moved off the bed.

“Don’t move,” he said, heading for the door.

He opened the door, his voice a murmur as he greeted whomever was on the other side. A moment later, Senator Jacob Wells strode into the room.

Rage shrieked through Reena’s brain at the sight of him, the man who had paid for the murder of her mother.

But it wasn’t just rage. It was pain, too. The same crushing pain that had made Reena wonder if she would survive it in the months after her mother’s death. She’d thought it was long dead, replaced by the vengeance she’d learned on Rebun Island. But seeing Jacob Wells brought it all back: the tumultuous relationship with her mother that was supposed to last a lifetime, the loss of the one person who had always been there for her, the person who had taught Reena how to be a fighter, a survivor. In the aftermath of her mother’s murder, she’d come to realize that they only fought like they did because they were so alike.

She returned her attention to the knife, reaching for it again, as Wells moved into the room. Gripping the weapon, she considered her options. To kill Reinhardt and Wells now would satisfy her primal urge to see them pay, but it wouldn’t free Simon. And Reena in prison wasn’t what her mother would have wanted.

Instead, Reena pricked her thigh lightly with its blade, the self-inflicted pain snapping her out of the sea of emotion brought on by the appearance of Wells.

She needed to focus. She wasn’t Reena Fuller anymore. Not tonight. She was Kandi with a K and an i.

Noticing Reena on the bed, Wells looked her up and down. “Who’s this, William?”

Reinhardt winked. “Kandi here was just keeping me company while I waited for Cain. I haven’t heard back from him since yesterday. Don’t know where he could be.”

Wells’s gaze settled on Reena. She tried to stay calm, reminding herself that she didn’t look anything like Senator Fuller’s spoiled daughter.

Not tonight. Not anymore.

“I don’t think we should be discussing business in front of your friend here,” Wells finally said.

Reinhardt tipped his head to the adjoining bathroom. “Freshen up in the powder room. And don’t come out until I call you.”

Playing the part of the obedient floozy, Reena crossed the gleaming wood floors to the bathroom. Now that she was so close, she expected to be afraid. Instead, she was more resolved than ever. Reinhardt and Wells were pigs. She was going to cut deeply into their lives and make them bleed.

And if she had to die in the process, so be it.

She entered the bathroom, closing the door all the way for show. She waited a couple of minutes before easing it open just a crack.

“I haven’t heard from him, either,” Wells was saying. “Maybe he’s changed his mind. Or worse, his tune.”

“You’re being paranoid,” Reinhardt said, pouring himself a drink.

“There’s a difference between paranoia and caution,” Wells argued. “And being cautious, covering our tracks, is why we’ve been so successful.”

“I remember when you decided to refurbish this room,” Charlie said, looking around the renovated wine cellar. “You were so excited.”

Ava followed his gaze, her sadness reborn. She never got the chance to finish it.

“It made me feel better to be down here,” she said. “You made me feel better, too, back before I realized it was all an act.”

He moved closer to her. “It wasn’t all an act, Ava. I cared about you. I still do.”

“Don’t bother,” she said. “Just tell me why? Why did you do it?”

He shrugged. “It was a business proposition. One I couldn’t pass up.”

Ava stroked the dark wood paneling. She’d spent hours picking it out, and now it did nothing but collect dust beneath her fallen kingdom.

“So you got control of the estate and Reinhardt paid you handsomely,” she said. “Win-win.”

“It wasn’t a win-win. Because you lost. I see that now.” His voice was sincere.

Then again, it always had been.

She pinned him with her eyes. “Save it, Charlie. You didn’t just steal my estate. You put it in the hands of the one man my family wanted to keep it from.”

She moved in on him, grabbing the lapels of his suit and shoving him forcefully against the wall. It felt good to use Takeda’s training in such a physical way. To use her newfound strength to subdue the man who had traded her love for money. She could hold her own now with almost anyone—and certainly with someone like Charlie.

And yet, standing so close, her body pressed against his, the smell of wine on his breath, she wanted not only to rip out his heart but in a strange and terrible way to rip off his clothes.

She shook her head. Why did he have to do this to her?

“Jesus, Charlie,” she finally managed to say. “We weren’t even married. How could you deceive me like that?”

But she was as mad at herself as she was at him. Maybe if she’d looked harder she would have seen Reinhardt’s strings on his shoulders.

“You have to know that his plan to take Starling was in effect long before I came into the fold,” he said.

“And that makes it okay? Everything you did to me?”

He shook his head. “You don’t get it, do you? Reinhardt was going to get Starling one way or another. Sylvie could never be convinced. Could never be taken, either. He knew that. But without her in the picture, Reinhardt saw a rich target in your hopelessly romantic heart.”

Dread dropped like a stone in her stomach. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, Ava, that the only way to get Starling was to remove your grandmother from the equation.”

Ava stepped back, letting go of him. She shook her head. “My grandmother died of a heart attack.”

Charlie shook his head. “You, more than anyone, should know that things aren’t always as they seem.”

Ava didn’t know how long they stood there, Charlie’s revelation ringing through her ears like a bad song.

She was torn between wanting to guzzle the wine around her and wanting to smash the bottles wildly, destroying what was left of the grapes harvested under her family’s careful watch.

As if that could somehow erase everything that had happened. As if by getting rid of the wine, she might be another Ava. An Ava who didn’t own something worth so much that someone would kill for it.