'And the fact that Charboneau got kidnapped on your watch, that's gotta hurt.' Raven cut her to the bone with her perceptive observation. She deserved it. Not a day had gone by that she didn't chastise herself in much the same way. Guilt was a pervasive disease.
'It does,' Jasmine replied. 'You have no idea.' It was the first honest emotion she had shared since her intrusion into their lives. Yet she despised vulnerability. With her eyes downcast, she avoided their stares.
Shifting the focus, she directed her next comment to him. 'I am asking for your help. It is not just a matter of collecting on a debt, although that should be a compelling enough reason for an honorable man.'
'Don't waste your time with this guilt trip. You're tap dancing around something. What is it?' he demanded.
Clearly, Christian would not make this easy. But there was honesty in his candor. And she respected him for it. Still, going against Nicky's wishes felt like a betrayal.
'My employer would not wish for me to tell you this. In fact, he expressly asked me not to contact you. But as I have said, I am out of time.'
'I don't know the man. Why would he give such an order? You're being painfully cryptic, Jasmine.'
Delaying her response, she took a sip of coffee, then slowly set the cup and saucer on a table. It had come to this. Only the truth would satisfy him.
'It is a sensitive matter. Yet I find I have no choice. Your mother, Fiona Dunhill, knew Nicholas quite well. If she knew of his plight, she would help.'
'How do you know about Fiona . . . and my relationship to her?'
'The same way I know of your father . . . your biological one.' She felt her heart skip a beat, then quicken its pace. It pained her to be the one to break the news, to deny Nicky of his choice in the matter. Her betrayal knew no bounds.
'Nicholas Charboneau is your father, Christian.'
'How could you possibly know that? This better not be another one of your mind games,' he bellowed, then clenched his jaw in anger. 'Besides, I know all I need to know about my
Yet his words of denial felt. . .
Christian knew John Delacorte had raised him as a son. And the man had made the ultimate sacrifice, giving his own life to save him from certain death all those years ago. The memory had been buried deep in his mind and only recently unlocked, the dark childhood tragedy that defined him. No one would replace John Delacorte in his role as his real father. Still, Fiona confirmed what he'd already suspected, having kept the identity of his biological father from him for a reason.
Perhaps that reason had a name: Nicholas Charboneau.
'I knew it the moment I set eyes on you, the night we first met. You look just like him. But don't trust me. Talk to your mother. Tell her Nicky is in trouble, or she might continue to keep her secret and deny his . . . contribution. But whatever you do, please . . . make it fast.'
Nearly spilling his coffee, Christian collapsed into a nearby chair, unable to take his eyes from Jasmine. The strange sensation he'd been feeling over the past several days bubbled to the surface, churning his stomach with the reality of his life.
Setting down the mug, he shut his eyes. His mind reeled with a flood of old conversations. Fiona's words replayed in his memory. No matter how many times he begged for the true identity of his father, his mother kept her silence. After seeing the pain in her eyes, he knew she would never disclose the truth, as if she were protecting him.
And with what Raven revealed about Charboneau and his connection to organized crime, maybe she had gooci reason. Yet Fiona's gall boggled his mind. She herself was a matriarch to an enterprise rooted in crime, perhaps a direct rival to Charboneau's. Her disapproval of him as a father made no sense, not if she examined her own life under such scrutiny.
It struck him. He had spent much of his life living in the shadow of her lies. She had kept him apart from 'the life,' limiting his involvement in the Dunhill family business all those years. Now it appeared he had never fully grasped the depth of her secrets.
Raven's voice yanked him from his dismal thoughts.
'If your employer kept his affairs to himself,' she said to Jasmine, 'without confiding in you, as you've said, then how do you explain knowing so much about Christian? That seems like pretty sensitive information for a mere bodyguard to have.'
'Very perceptive, Detective. I may have misrepresented my relationship with Christian's father. But I will not compromise Nicky by revealing certain aspects of his business affairs. It would be unprofessional . . . and unwise.'
Intently, Christian watched the woman speak, as if she communicated in a different language. Perhaps she did. Her world was steeped in shadow and deception. Honesty would be a rare commodity.
'Your instincts are correct, Raven,' he said. 'This is a woman with secrets. Trusting her would be a mistake.' Resentment colored his tone. He glared at Jasmine, searching the subtleties of her face to find a glimmer of the truth.
The woman flashed indignation. 'You trusted me once. That night. I could have led you into an ambush.'
He stood abruptly and turned his back, crossing his arms over his chest. Looking at her only made him angry. 'I was desperate. I had no choice.'
'Now you see my predicament. I am out of options as well.' Jasmine stepped toward him. Her voice lowered as she pleaded her case. 'This is not about me. Nicholas will die in seven days. What would you have me do? How can I prove myself to you? I am only a messenger, speaking for a man who cannot. Please do not condemn him for Fiona's error in judgment.'
'What do you mean?' He narrowed his eyes, reading between the lines of her persuasive argument. 'And why didn't he want you to contact me?'
'He never really said, but I know him. I believe he resented the fact Fiona kept your birth a secret from him. He didn't find out the truth until only . . . recently.'
'And I suppose you want me to take your word for that . . . that he only just found out about me?' Christian turned toward her, searching her eyes for an answer.
'I hope you will, yes.' Jasmine touched his arm and spoke in a hushed tone. 'She never allowed him the choice—to take his rightful place as your father. Until he examined his heart, I believe he wanted time to consider what such a revelation would do to you.'
He wondered how much of this was Jasmine's gift of persuasion. She had all the answers, doling out what he wanted to hear. But his gut jabbed at him, casting doubt on her portrayal of Charboneau as a concerned father with only his best interests at heart.
'So, you think he stayed away, out of concern for me?' He tilted his head and focused his gaze on the woman standing before him. 'Don't you think that's a stretch, even by your twisted standards?'
'Please. Do not judge him. Not without Nicky being able to defend himself. And without your help, he won't be alive long enough to do so. Please, I need you.'
Despite his cynical nature, he wanted to believe her. But the reality of his situation was simple. He could only discover the truth about Charboneau on his own. He would have to risk his future to uncover his past. Would he regret the decision he was about to make?
'What do you want from me?'
'What the hell do you want, damn it?' Nicholas yelled.
His voice resounded off the walls of the cavern, an inky black and boundless expanse. Some kind of cave. Plunged in total darkness, he wasn't sure anyone heard him. And he hated being ignored.
'You don't know who you're dealing with!'
