“This company should have been mine, Beckett. You know it and I know it.”
Dredge up sympathy and then go in for the kill. He studied her. With her white suit, her impeccable blonde hair, and her ridiculous sunglasses, she would have looked more at home in some fancy resort than standing here in a muggy garden with him. “You got a raw deal, but you made the best of it. There’s no point in trying to turn back time. You have your company. I have mine.” All the posturing irritated the hell out of him. He had better things to do than circling his aunt and trading barbs. “Let this go, Lydia. You won’t like what happens if you keep fucking with me.”
“Darling nephew, I haven’t even begun to fuck with you. Yet.” She smiled that viper’s smirk. “It’s a shame about the fire, isn’t it? I hope the repairs won’t be too extensive. If you need a loan, don’t hesitate to ask.”
Alarm bells pealed through Beckett’s head, but he kept his expression even. “I’ll keep that in mind. Was there anything else? I have things that require my attention.”
If anything, her smile widened. “I imagine you do.” She strolled toward the doors, leaving him trailing behind her. He still didn’t miss her next words. “You’ve become awfully cozy with my Samara.”
Do not react. “I expect you had something to do with that.”
Her laugh raised the small hairs on his neck. There was nothing inherently wrong with it, but it set him on edge all the same. “Contrary to what you seem to believe, I’m not responsible for everything going wrong in your life these days.”
He wasn’t going to touch that. Beckett could number the things that had gone to shit since his father died, but Samara wasn’t on that list. He knew he couldn’t trust her—and that she didn’t trust him—but when she was in his arms he wasn’t worried about his next move or watching his words. Even with all their respective baggage, what was between them was honest in those moments when they let their bodies do the talking.
He waited until Lydia had her hand on the door to ask, “What did you and my father talk about the night he died?”
She paused, but didn’t look back. “I don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about. I haven’t seen Nathaniel in months.”
For the first time since she showed up, a thread of tension worked its way through her words. She’s lying. He’d known Frank’s information was good, but this confirmed it independently. “Funny you should say that. I have evidence that says otherwise.”
She seemed to take a fortifying breath and turned to face him. He would have paid a significant amount of money to see her eyes just then. Lydia raised her hands in the universal sign of surrender. “You caught me. I had a private dinner date in the same restaurant he was at that night. He was already drunk when I arrived, and we shared a few words before I moved on.” She shook her head slowly. “I don’t know what you thought a thirty-second conversation would prove, Beckett. I’m sorry that your father’s gone, if only for your loss. I didn’t wish him dead.”
“That’s the second time you’ve lied to me today, Lydia.” He didn’t ask her what they’d allegedly talked about. It didn’t matter. She was scrambling to come up with a logical reason why she would be photographed in Nathaniel’s presence the night he died, and she’d just keep lying until he had the leverage to get the truth. “The games end now.”
“Oh, honey.” She smiled. “The games are only getting started.”
He waited for her to leave the garden, and then waited some more until he watched her leave the building altogether. Beckett pulled out his phone and brought up Samara’s number. Lydia bringing her up specifically was a threat if he’d ever heard one. He needed to see her, to reassure himself that she was really okay, to warn her that his aunt was the goddamn devil.
She won’t believe you.
Even if she does, the safest place for her is as far from you as she can get.
No, he couldn’t call Samara. He couldn’t avoid her indefinitely, but the closer she got to him, the closer she got to the target Lydia had painted on his chest.
Instead, he called his bank. His aunt’s comment about finances wasn’t in passing. Once he confirmed that no unauthorized charges had been made to his personal account, he ordered it locked down for everything except in-person withdrawals. Then Beckett did the same with his trust fund, the three accounts his father had willed him, and Morningstar’s accounts as well. Even with no evidence of any attempts to access the money, he couldn’t help feeling a little paranoid.
Either she’d been bluffing to waste his time…or she was already three steps ahead of him.
Fuck that. Beckett dropped onto the bench and leaned back to stare at the sky. He couldn’t go on like this, reacting to the shit Lydia pulled. Eventually, she’d get the best of him and he’d lose yet another thing he valued. No, he had to get ahead of this and he had to do it before the next blow fell.
The government contract.
Beckett hesitated. By all rights, he should wait for the presentation Friday and let the dice fall where they may. Samara had been working her ass off on her bid, and if he played dirty on this, it might hurt her standing with her job.
And maybe that’s exactly what Lydia wants. She shoved Samara at me and, while that connection might be real enough, Samara’s been very
