The Secret Heiress
Page 19
“Now I understand why my father came to Greece for me,” she said. “Why I was brought to Connecticut, and now why you had Matt bring me here. Nikos Papadaki, my real father, made the wrong choice, didn’t he? Mr. Coveri said that my sister’s a monster. You hope to replace my twin sister with me. You want us to trade places. That is it, isn’t it?”
Adrian wasn’t surprised by her quick grasp of the situation. He inclined his head, acknowledging the truth of what she’d said.
“And what about her? What is her name . . . Niki?”
“Nikoletta,” Sugar said, “but nearly everyone calls her Niki.”
“Does Niki desire to be replaced?”
Adrian heaved a sigh. “I imagine not.”
Sugar snorted in laughter. “You might as well be completely honest, Adrian. Like hell would Niki want to trade places.” She turned to Ariadne. “Sorry to have to tell you this, sweetheart, but your sister is the worst kind of megalomaniac,” Sugar said. “Sometimes I think she’s inherited Nikos’s madness.”
“Worse, she’s like a disease,” Yves added, “leaving poison everywhere she goes. She’s bought some of the most notorious toxic-waste companies on the planet.”
Adrian did not mince words. “Well, I think Nikos—mad or not—was right about one thing. One twin was born good and the other bad. The only problem is, it seems your father picked the wrong sister.”
Solemnly Ariadne asked Sugar, “And you believe this to be true, also?”
Sugar nodded. “I do. I’ve given her the benefit of the doubt, but Niki’s history has proven it over and over again.”
“And you?” Ariadne inquired of Angelo. “Do you also believe this to be true?”
“With all my heart,” he replied heavily. “Your sister as good as murdered my only child, my daughter. And why? Because Nikoletta wanted the young man my daughter loved. She wanted him as a toy for herself.”
“So you see our dilemma,” Yves cut in. “We feel we must honor your father’s wishes and do everything we can to keep his empire intact. We cannot continue to let Nikoletta destroy everything. As long as she’s in power, there’s nothing we can do to stop her. That’s why we’ve come to you, Ariadne.”
Ariadne took a deep breath. “I . . . I was raised simply. First on the island, then by my foster parents in Connecticut . . . in a sheltered environment, and now I find myself thrust into . . . this. It’s . . .” She lifted her hands and then let them drop. “It’s overwhelming.”
“We’re asking you to make a decision,” Adrian added. “Whether or not you are willing to take Niki’s place is not a decision to be taken lightly. But ultimately the decision has to be yours, Ariadne. We can’t force you. Consider us your counselors, if you will, much as we’re supposed to be to Niki. But that’s our only role.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Ariadne said.
“We must also warn you that Nikoletta is a formidable enemy,” Adrian said. “That’s one of the reasons we’ve kept you a secret from her.”
“So she doesn’t know I exist?”
Adrian shook his head. “No. When Nikos died, she inherited immense power and wealth. International prominence. She wouldn’t want to share any of it with you or anyone else. Do you see?”
“But she possesses all of these things now,” Ariadne said.
“Of course she does,” Sugar said, “but her ambition knows no bounds. You must believe us when we tell you that she would not want to share anything with you. She would most likely hate you for even existing.” She took one of Ariadne’s hands in hers. “You’ve never known anyone like her because of your upbringing, Ariadne. For Niki, the world is not enough. What Adrian and the others say is true. Niki would never share anything. Not since the day she was born.”
“Believe it or not,” Ariadne said, “I have met some fairly wicked people. Even in the boarding school and at college. Terrible gossips and backbiters. Girls who are jealous or greedy. Even really nasty teachers.”
“I doubt that any of them are capable of the cruelty your twin is,” Angelo Coveri said.
“And what if I went public?” Ariadne ventured. She saw Adrian Single turn ashen, and Sugar Rosebury gasped.
Adrian steepled his hands. “First, you would be risking your life,” he said. “And make no mistake about that.” He thumped his hand on his chair for emphasis. “Second, you wouldn’t be able to help us save your father’s legacy from destruction. Not only saving his legacy, Ariadne, but saving the lives of people who live in those parts of the world where Nikoletta is now doing business.”
Ariadne listened intently as Adrian explained the ways in which Nikoletta had changed PPHL and the directions in which she was taking the company. In great detail he described the environmental and human costs of her policies.
Angelo supplied added emphasis. “We can bring it to an end, though. Think about it. If you were to become Nikoletta . . .”
Ariadne sat in stunned silence. She’d already realized that they wanted her to change places with her sister, but when the momentous proposition fully registered upon her consciousness, she said, “You mean . . . I would no longer be Ariadne? I would have to shed my true self?”
“Only in a sense,” Angelo said with a nod. “Your essential nature will never change, I’m sure. But to all outward appearances you would become Nikoletta Papadaki, and there would be no going back.”
“But why not?”
“Because for Ariadne to become Nikoletta,” Adrian interjected, “Nikoletta would have to disappear, just as you yourself once did.”
Ariadne felt a chill run up her spine. To do something like this to her sister was repugnant, but at the same time, if what they said about her was true, she would have the opportunity to help make the world a better place. Plus, for all these years her true parentage and inheritance had been stolen from her. Now she would have a chance to regain what was rightfully hers.
It was a dizzying prospect, and it almost made her physically ill. I have so much to think about. What they are offering me is a new identity, a new life entirely. A life of adventure and excitement. Of incredible opportunities.
Or would I be exchanging my simple, uncomplicated life for a gilded cage?
Chapter Eighteen
New York City
Steaming water spilled from a gold swan’s head into the large onyx bathtub in Nikoletta’s master bathroom. Nelly, her personal maid, poured in three capfuls—no more, no less—of a foaming mineral muscle soak of sea salts and aloe vera. She tested the water with her hand to make certain that it was the temperature Nikoletta liked. Nelly didn’t want to think about the possible repercussions otherwise. Nikoletta might turn on her like a virago, giving her a tongue-lashing of epic proportions and threatening to fire her, or she might brush it off with a flick of a wrist. Nelly never knew what to expect.
Nikoletta came into the bathroom, her body sheathed in the sheen of sweat. She had just spent an hour with her personal trainer, a young Russian with chiseled features who had guided her through a grueling workout. “Is my bath ready, Nelly?”
“Just about, ma’am,” Nelly said. “Another inch or so of water, and it will be.”
One of the cell phones on the onyx vanity bleated, and Nikoletta looked over at them. It was the one with her most private number. “You can go, Nelly,” she said. “I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Nelly said. She left the bathroom in a rush, knowing that Nikoletta would want privacy. She always did when that particular cell phone rang.
“Hello,” Nikoletta said, stepping into the steaming bathtub.
“I have some information for you, Ms. Papadaki,” the man’s voice said.
Nikoletta quickly twirled the tap shut to reduce the noise and settled back in the bubble-filled tub to hear what he had to say. “What is it?”
“I’ve been following Single,” he said, “and he came up to his estate in Dutchess County this afternoon.”
“That’s hardly news,” Ni
koletta replied derisively. “He goes there nearly every weekend.” She stroked one leg with a sponge.
“I know that,” the man said, “but this is different. There’s been a whole lot of activity at the Single estate tonight.”
Nikoletta’s ears perked up, and she dropped the sponge. “What kind of activity?”
“It’s very interesting,” the man drawled. He enjoyed toying with Nikoletta, drawing out the suspense. He’d never worked for anyone as unpleasant as Nikoletta Papadaki, and he’d worked for some real monsters.
“What?” she demanded. “What’s interesting?” The man was beginning to get on her nerves. “Get to the point.”
“I haven’t been inside,” he said. “The area around the compound is fenced, you know. Quite a security system this Single has.”
Nikoletta tapped her foot against the bottom of the tub. “I said, get to the point.”
“I’m getting there,” the man said. “I hid the car close by, and I’ve been watching the place from across the road with binoculars. Remember those pictures you gave me of the big shots at PPHL?”
“Yes, of course,” Nikoletta said, exasperated. She began brushing the sponge up and down her other leg, using quick, unnecessarily firm strokes.
“First I saw this woman, Sugar Rosebury, drive in. She had that old man with her, ah, Angelo Coveri.”
“Really?” Nikoletta said excitedly. Why were Sugar and Angelo going to visit Adrian in the country? she wondered. She knew that normally Adrian didn’t mingle much with the other PPHL people outside the corporate schedule.
“Yes,” the man said. “They arrived about two hours ago. They were buzzed in, then went to the main house. Single himself came to the door. I saw them go inside, and they’ve been inside all this time.”
Nikoletta dropped the sponge again. The man certainly had her full attention now.
“They’d been there about fifteen minutes,” the man went on, “when I saw another car pull up to the gates. That turned out to be your Frenchman . . . Yves Carre. Then another car pulled in. Say, twenty or thirty minutes after Carre. Neither one of the people in the car matched any of the pictures of PPHL people you gave me. In fact, they don’t match anybody in my files.”
“What did they look like?” Nikoletta asked.
“A man about thirty years old, tall, well built, dark hair. That’s all I could tell about him when Single let them in the house.” He paused and cleared his throat. “The woman, she was early twenties, I’d guess. Long blond hair. Tall, slender. I didn’t get a good look at her when they went in. The guy with her was in the way.”
“You’re sure they don’t match any of the pictures you have?” she asked.
“Pretty certain,” the man said.
Who on earth? she wondered again. The PI’s information was very exciting, but it presented two intriguing questions. Why would the board be gathering at Adrian’s place in the country? And why would a young couple be joining them? She had to know. A secret meeting of the board was suspicious in and of itself.
“I want you to get in there,” Nikoletta said.
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” the PI said. “I told you the place is fenced and gated, but—”
“I don’t give a damn,” Nikoletta blurted. “I want you in there. Now. I’ve got to know what’s going on and who those other people are.”
“I could . . .” His voice trailed off as if he was lost in thought.
“Just do it,” Nikoletta said. “There’ll be a bonus in it for you if you do.”
“I’ll get in there. No problem.”
“I want you to call me back,” Nikoletta told him. “I want to know everything you can tell me about what’s going on, and see if there’s anybody there who might’ve gotten there before you did.”
“Will do,” he said.
“And I’m especially interested in this young couple,” she said. “See if you can get a better look. Better yet, get a picture.”
“Leave it to me.”
“And I’ll want to know when they leave,” Nikoletta went on. “Don’t leave there until after they do, no matter what time it is. If they should spend the night, you do the same.”
“Agreed.”
Nikoletta hit the END button and placed the cell phone on the wide onyx shelf that surrounded the bathtub. What the hell is Adrian Single up to? she asked herself. She’d suspected him of working against her for a long time, and now she was certain of it. The board meeting behind her back at his place? They were going to be sorry. All of them.
But the young couple? Nikoletta frowned. They were a mystery, and Nikoletta despised a mystery. She would have to wait up for the PI to call her back.
Chapter Nineteen
Dutchess County, New York
The day was sunny and warm, and its allure was irresistible for Ariadne. She had sat reading in the beautifully manicured formal gardens with their parterres of clipped box, weeping cherry trees, and blooming perennials, and then took a walk along the paths with herbaceous borders that had just come to colorful life. The fields and woods beyond beckoned to her, especially after several days of being in the confines of Adrian Single’s home, where she was seldom left alone.
Now that she was outdoors on his beautiful country estate, she felt like a bird set free from its cage, and the sensation was both exhilarating and a little frightening. She roamed among the tall grasses and into the peaceful woodland and completely lost track of time, not allowing any fears she had to keep her from enjoying the bucolic afternoon. On a huge fallen hemlock tree that provided a natural bench she sat down, inhaling the heady scent of the trees and the mosses and ferns that covered the woodland ground. Except for the occasional birdsong and rustling of squirrels, it was quiet and peaceful.
Suddenly her ears pricked up, and she felt a chill creep up her neck. She was sure she heard the distinctive sound of breaking undergrowth. Someone was approaching her in the forest.
She went rigid when she heard the crunch of a shoe or boot. She was prepared to take flight when Matt Foster appeared from around a thicket of pine and hemlock trees.
She expelled a breath of relief, although she still felt a flutter in her chest.
“I—I’m sorry,” he said apologetically. “I hope I didn’t scare you.”
“I—I . . . well, actually you did,” she said, her eyes admiring his tall, lean, and powerful-looking physique. His dark eyes and slightly curly black hair appealed to her, too, and she loved his hesitant smile. She longed to reach out and hold him, despite his having deceived her, but she wouldn’t allow herself to do that.
“I am sorry,” he said sincerely. “The growth here is pretty thick, and I couldn’t see around that thicket back there. I didn’t see you sit down.”
“You’ve been . . . following me?” she asked.
He nodded. “It’s my job,” he said. “You know that.”
“I guess so,” Ariadne said. She couldn’t help but smile. “It’s okay. It’s just a little . . . unnerving to know I’m being watched. Have you been watching me long?”
“Ever since you got here,” he said sheepishly.
“So you mean today? All day? Even while I was in the garden? Then on this long walk?”
“I mean since the night I brought you here,” he said. “From a distance. From the time you get up in the morning till the time you go to bed.”
“How do you manage that?” she asked. “Aren’t you staying in the guesthouse?”
He cocked his head. “Yes, but I have my trade secrets.”
“Oh-ho,” she said, “so I’m not supposed to know about the peephole in my bedroom wall?”
“It’s nothing like that, I can assure you, Ariadne,” he replied with a hint of indignation.
“I was only joking,” she countered. “Believe me, I’m still angry about being deceived, even if it was for a good cause, but for some reason I don’t think you’re the type to have a peephole in my bedroom.”
“I appreciate that,” he r
eplied. “I didn’t mean that I watch you every second that you’re awake, but I do secure the perimeter of the estate for your safety. During the day I check out every visitor, whether it’s FedEx or a nursery delivery. Anyone like that coming onto the property. At night I use night-vision binoculars and such to make certain that no one has trespassed. Simple safety measures like that.”
“Do you really think that’s necessary, Matt?”
“Adrian and the others think so, and they know better than I do,” he replied. “I have to say that what I’ve learned about your sister leads me to believe that they’re right. You need protection.”
Ariadne shuddered at the idea of looming danger. “I guess this job must be very boring for you.”
He shrugged. “It’s . . . different.”
“I hope you don’t mind my long walks,” Ariadne said. “I really enjoy getting out.”
“I know you do,” Matt said. Then his face became grave. “But I can’t really imagine what you’re going through. Finding out the truth about who you are and all.”
Ariadne’s gaze lingered on him, and she saw once again what had appealed to her so much. The dark, liquid look of his eyes, the depth of them, and the strong set of his square jaw. His hair was so black, his nose so straight, and his lips so—dare she think it?—sensual. His masculinity was immensely alluring and a little frightening.
“Do you mind if I sit down?” he asked.
“Oh . . . no, not at all,” Ariadne replied. She laughed lightly. “I should probably say no, but it’s a big tree and there’s plenty of room.”
“Thanks,” he said. He sat down and spread his arms wide, placing his hands on the log and crossing his feet and swinging them slightly. “You must still be very angry with me.”
“Actually, I . . . I guess I am,” she replied.
“I hope you’ll forgive me,” Matt said. “I didn’t mean any harm.”
“Well, I guess you didn’t,” she said, staring into her lap. She looked up and about. “It’s so peaceful and quiet here,” she said, changing the subject.