“What’s to understand?” asks Lizzie, smirking. “Is it so unbelievable to you that he’s interested in our beautiful sister?”
“He probably just wants to photograph her and sell the prints to the highest bidder.”
Lizzie slants me a worried look, but I shrug it off. It’s always been like this with Ellie. That she’s equating Finn with a bottom-dwelling paparazzo to appease her bruised ego is par for the course. Her digs used to hurt, but now they buzz past me like harmless flies. I have other, bigger problems to wrestle with. Like how to keep them safe and secure while I ruin their mother.
“I doubt it’ll go anywhere,” Ellie continues, petulant. “He seems like a total tool.”
Seated beside her on the guest bed, Lizzie rolls her eyes, then mouths at me, “Jealous.”
I smile sadly, wishing I could tell Ellie she has absolutely nothing to be jealous of. That Finn’s interest in me only goes as far as how useful I can be to him.
The lies are stacking up, the weight on my heart growing.
“I love that outfit,” Lizzie says brightly. “Do you know where he’s taking you?”
I give myself a final, cursory glance. There’s nothing special about what I’m wearing—jeans, a black top, and comfortable flats. But I appreciate Lizzie’s effort. Frankly, I don’t care what Finn thinks. I’m casual because, for a week straight, I’ve been stuffed into designer outfits I’d never wear by choice. A pair of jeans is luxury to me.
“He said he wanted to surprise me,” I lie, padding the prior fabrication that he’s been texting me on my shiny new iPhone all week.
Lizzie claps excitedly. “Ohh, so romantic.”
Ellie flops onto her back. “Am I the only one who thinks maybe it’s too soon for Calli to date?”
“Yes,” chirps Lizzie with a gleam in her eye. “Why are you even here, Ellie? It’s Friday night. Shouldn’t you be at a frat party or something?”
“I wanted to help Calli get ready, duh,” she answers unconvincingly. “What time is it?”
“Time for you to get a hobby.”
“Shut up, Ms. Does Nothing. Maybe we should work on some college applications for you, huh?”
“Shove it, El. I’m taking a break-year. It’s a thing.”
Ah, sisters.
“It’s only a thing if you do something for a year. Like travel, have sex with hot European guys, or even just hang out with friends on a beach somewhere. But you don’t have any friends, do you?”
“I have friends,” snaps Lizzie. “And you’re one to talk! If you weren’t so far up Mom’s ass, you’d see how pointless college is. We’re not going to have careers. We’re going to be married off to whoever’s rich sons. What’s the fucking point?”
Shocked, I almost drop the tube of mascara in my hand.
“Whatever,” drawls Ellie. “You’re delusional and paranoid. Keep at it and you’ll end up in a padded room.”
She’s not crazy! I want to yell. But I keep my mouth shut as they continue to bicker, the subject thankfully shifting to who borrowed whose designer shoes last month and conveniently forgot to return them.
When the doorbell rings a few minutes later, the girls have lapsed into rigid silence. Ellie hops off the bed. “I’ll get it,” she sings as she saunters from the room.
Lizzie sighs. “She’s had a celebrity crush on him for a few years. I think she’s hurt he didn’t reciprocate.”
We both know there’s more to it than that, but I shake my head and grab my purse. “It’s all good. Weirdly, her reaction is kind of comforting.”
Lizzie grins. “I get it. She’s not treating you any differently than before.”
I nod. “Neither are you,” I say softly, then pause. “You’d tell me if something were going on, right, Lizzie?”
She frowns. “Well, yeah. But what are you talking about?”
“I don’t know… like stuff with the family.”
Her gaze clears. “This is about my comment earlier, about being married off?” I nod and she chuckles, the sound so jaded, so different from her usual laughter that I wince. “I don’t have to explain it to you, do I, Calli?”
Her gaze hits mine, direct and challenging, and for a moment I think she knows. My breath stills. Spots dance in my vision.
Then she rolls her eyes, laughing light and familiar. “Don’t worry about me. I’m just having my first existential crisis. Figuring out what I want and all that shit. Ellie doesn’t get it.”
I choose my words carefully. “You can do whatever you set your heart and mind to, Lizzie.”
She offers a slight smile. “As long as it serves the family, right?”
No, God no.
Somehow I make myself smile. “Right.”
“Have fun tonight, okay? You deserve it.”
“I’ll try.”
She stands up and gives me a quick hug, then shoos me toward the door. I’m on the threshold when she murmurs, “Why did you come back here?”
My knuckles blanch as I grip the doorframe, my heart sinking. Blinking away the sting in my eyes, I glance back to meet her gaze.
“For you and Ellie.”
She nods, gaze dropping to the floor. “I figured as much.”
I swallow hard. “I love you, Lizzie.”
“Love you, too, big sis.”
I don’t want to leave her, but I do, my thoughts shifting gear to who waits for me, likely annoyed as he deflects the advances of my other sister.
Sure enough, when I get to the foyer, I find Ellie standing inappropriately close to my so-called date. In short-shorts that show off her lithe, tan legs, and lacy white tank, she’s pushing the fun-loving-SoCal-girl angle hard. Though Finn doesn’t look impressed, he doesn’t look unimpressed, either, his expression engaged as Ellie chatters nonstop.
It hits me that he’s used to women throwing themselves at him, used to flirting and probably sleeping with whoever he wants. Maybe Ellie is his type. The thought comes tinged green, which only makes me annoyed with myself.
I clear my throat. Finn’s eyes snap to me, a smirk blooming on his lips like he could hear my irritation in the sound.
“Hi, Callisto,” he says, that damnable smile growing, one eyebrow arching as he takes in my casual appearance. “You look beautiful. Ready to go?”
His execution is so flawless, for a moment I think he’s actually complimenting me. That he thinks I’m beautiful. Stupid, Calli. Reminding myself what a joke this is—that I’m being blackmailed of all things—resets my equilibrium.
“Yep. Have a good night, Ellie. Thanks for answering the door.”
Ignoring me, she touches Finn’s arm, encased by a leather jacket. “Now you have my number, so let me know about that thing, okay?”
He nods. “Will do. See you later.”
Ellie waves and flounces from the room.
Finn’s brows lift, lips twitching as I stalk past him out the front door. He beats me to his car—a sleek BMW—and opens the passenger door.
“She’s a feisty one, isn’t she?” There’s laughter and male appreciation in his voice, which makes me see red. “She wants new headshots, like every twenty-something in L.A. Like I’d waste my time.”
I yank my door closed, then close my eyes and focus on breathing as he slips into the driver’s seat. He doesn’t speak again until we’re cruising through the open gates.
“Where are your stepmother and uncles this evening? I expected an inquisition and was all geared up to charm them.”
“A photographer, no matter how rich, isn’t important enough to warrant an introduction unless he comes with a dynasty.”
“Ouch.” But he doesn’t sound offended. “I will, though. Be introduced to your family. Soon.”
I bristle, my gaze sliding to his profile, shadowed as night descends. “Why don’t you just lay it out for me so I know what to do, huh? The terms of the blackmail.”
He laughs like I’m not dead serious.
I growl, “What the fuck is wrong with you? T
his is my life we’re talking about! How is this funny?”
His mirth dies, eyes slicing to me and away. I’m glad the darkness disguises their beautiful blue color. “I don’t think any of this is funny, princess. And it’s not just your life on the line. I’m well aware I could see the inside of a coffin for this.”
“Then why are you here?” I cry, my voice shrill in the confines of the car.
The following silence is thick, the only sound the hum of the road beneath us. At length he answers, “My aunt considers you family, and there’s nothing more important than family. Isn’t that what you were taught, too?”
Sinking into my seat, I cross my arms defensively over my chest. Everything hurts—my heart, head, and body.
“I don’t want my sisters to get hurt,” I say finally.
“I’m not sure there’s a way around that,” he answers with surprising compassion. “No matter what, if we put their mother behind bars, their lives are going to drastically change.”
Not for the first time, doubt rears its head, sharp teeth dripping venomous confusion and fear. “Lizzie asked me earlier why I came back, and then said if she were in my shoes, she probably wouldn’t have.” I’m not sure why I’m telling him this, but it feels necessary. “I told her I came back for them—my sisters—but that’s not the truth.”
“Then why?”
I look out the window, noticing we’re on the freeway headed east and not caring. “I’ve been trying to convince myself it’s for them, or for Uncle Ant, or for your father and everyone else who’s suffered because of my family, or because I want to do the right thing…”
“But?”
“What if the only reason I’m here is to rub Vivian’s face in how she treated me as a child? To gloat as everything is stripped from her, no matter the collateral damage to my sisters?”
“Why can’t it be a little bit of all those things?” he asks softly. “I don’t know details about what you went through, but I’m pretty confident you’ve earned the right to resent Vivian.”
“If that’s true, then I’m no different than her. Motivated by hatred, greed, and pride.”
From the corner of my eye, I see his fingers clench on the steering wheel. “You’re nothing like her, Callisto. Trust me.”
The conviction in his voice barely reaches me, my thoughts haunted by Lizzie’s sad smile, the defeat in her young eyes.
I don’t have to explain it to you, do I?
Why did you come back here?
“You’re not doing this alone.” Finn’s voice wraps around me, deep and smooth.
“Not by choice,” I mutter.
He sighs. “Forget the blackmail for a minute and the fact you can’t stand me. I’m a pretty smart, capable guy, and I’ve been on this track for a long fucking time. Somewhere in that house, on a computer or in a file, is the information we need. And if not, then there’s someone out there who has it.”
“And if we fail?”
He shakes his head. “Failure isn’t an option.”
23
Less than a week. Callisto has been in that house less than a week and she’s already changed. Shadows ring her eyes despite tasteful makeup to conceal them. She’s thinner, too. Edgy and withdrawn. Her love for her sisters is a seeping wound in her confidence, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.
When I park the car outside the generic apartment complex, she doesn’t question why I’ve brought her here, just gets out of the car and waits listlessly for me to come around. My need to comfort her is irrational but ever-present. I want to say something—anything—to put the light back in her eyes, but the best I can do is to take her to someone who might be able to.
When we reach the second-story apartment, the door opens before I can knock. The two women stare at each other for a beat—one smiling and one shocked—before Callisto sobs out, “Molly?”
“Come here, sweetheart,” coos my aunt, and Callisto collapses into her arms.
I busy myself in the kitchen as soft words are exchanged on the couch, Molly’s arms staying securely around the younger woman. A rare pang of loneliness hits me—no one has ever taken comfort in me like that.
Has anyone ever needed me?
Scoffing at my thoughts, I decide Callisto’s mood must be affecting mine and do my best to ignore their voices as I finish layering various cheeses, olives, prosciutto, and crackers on the big serving plate. I tear off a few paper towels, then head for the couch.
Molly smiles as I lower the plate to the coffee table. “Thank you, Finn. This looks delicious.”
“It does,” agrees a wavering voice, “thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Avoiding Callisto’s eyes, I snag a few olives and drop into the adjacent armchair. “We can talk business while we eat.”
Molly makes a disgruntled sound, but says, “Calli was just telling me about the employees at the house, specifically a maid named Selina who warned her about a camera in her bedroom.”
My chewing slows and my gaze veers to Callisto. “You weren’t kidding about the surveillance, were you?”
She shakes her head. “It’s always been that way. I think it’s mostly sound. When we were kids, we thought our dad had magical powers because he always seemed to know stuff we said when he wasn’t around.”
“Like what?”
Her focus turns inward, her eyes glazing with memory. “When we were small, it was stuff like sneaking out of our rooms for cookies in the middle of the night. When we were older… well, imagine three teenage girls planning to sneak out to a party.” A wry smile briefly appears. “It didn’t happen.”
Molly muses, “So we know somewhere in the house, there’s access to all the audio.”
Callisto nods. “Probably on Vivian’s computer, in her office. There aren’t too many rooms that stay locked, but that’s one of them.”
“What are the others?” I ask quickly.
She gives me a knowing look. “The basement and the master bedroom.” Before I can ask, she continues, “My dad was mistrusting of technology and didn’t like storing information on his computer. The basement used to have big filing cabinets and a standing safe. I have no idea if they’re still there.”
“You haven’t checked?” Even I can hear the accusation in my voice.
Molly bristles. “Finn—”
“It’s okay,” says Callisto, laying a hand on Molly’s arm before turning her dark eyes on me. “I spent the last six days traveling at Vivian’s behest, smiling and lying. My focus right now is on gaining her trust. If she catches me snooping in the basement, or anywhere, it will all be for nothing.”
I sit back with a brie-smeared cracker. “You really think if you’re nice to her long enough, she’ll suddenly reveal all her secrets? Don’t be naïve. That could take years if it happened at all.”
Ire glows in her eyes. “Not every problem can be solved with a bulldozer, Finn.”
My name in her throaty voice, combined with the spark of passion in her eyes, trails up my spine like a touch. I imagine her saying my name in drastically different circumstances. Moaning it. Screaming it. Whimpering it as I take her from behind.
Like she can hear my thoughts—or see them in my face—Callisto’s eyes widen and a blush blooms on her pale cheeks. She looks down quickly.
Molly clears her throat. “Let’s focus on the positive. We have different approaches, which we can use to our advantage. I’ll see what I can learn about the staff, especially Selina, while you two figure out where Vivian stores her files and surveillance footage.”
“Assuming either exists,” I mutter, then sigh. “If I were her, I would destroy everything. Especially a paper trail. Why keep evidence of past crimes? It doesn’t make sense.”
Callisto murmurs, “You’re probably right. Vivian wouldn’t be sentimental about my father’s old files. And with her run for governor coming up, I’m sure the computers in the house are squeaky clean.”
Molly slumps. “Then what? Maybe there’
s something in the safe?”
“Like a written confession?” I grouse. “Besides, I’m not sure your amateur lock-picking skills are up for the job.”
“Smartass.”
“Takes one to know one.”
Callisto cracks a smile—a small one, but it stirs something unfamiliar inside me. When she notices me watching her, she doesn’t look away. Not this time. Instead, she holds the contact, the echoes of her smile still there, and for a moment I forget it all. My mission, my hatred, my rage… like shedding the armor I’ve worn for years, I feel lighter and free.
Then I open my stupid mouth.
“When can you introduce me to Vivian?”
Her eyes empty of emotion. “I, uh… I’ll ask her about inviting you to dinner on Thursday. My uncles will be there.”
“They’re there every Thursday?”
She nods. “After dinner they usually have a meeting in Vivian’s office.”
I groan. “What are the chances that room is wired?”
She shakes her head. “Highly doubtful. And knowing my uncle Franco, it’s probably got all sorts of tech to prevent anyone outside the house from listening in.”
Struck with an idea, I lurch forward in my chair. “But if they’re all in the office, then the rest of the house is free game.”
She frowns. “You can’t wander around the house alone.”
“What if I get lost looking for the bathroom?”
“Then you might as well give up trying to impress my family.”
I smile in spite of myself. “Good point.”
Molly stirs. “What if you want to show your date around? Or”—she flushes in embarrassment—“maybe find a private place to, you know…”
Callisto turns beet red and doesn’t look at me. “I’m not sure I’d take a date to the basement, but we could walk around a bit. But first I have to convince Vivian to let Finn come to dinner. Guests aren’t normally allowed.”
“Convince her I’m a special case.”
Molly snorts. “Oh, you’re a special case, all right.”
I roll my eyes.
Then Callisto laughs, the soft, melodic sound surprisingly sultry, and I decide being the butt of my aunt’s jokes might not be so bad.
The Golden Hour Page 10
