by MJ Riley
Then, there were the black list letters—at least fifty of them. There were drafts of letters to other companies, threatening them or bribing them not to hire Lester Marscomb. They spoke of his treachery and the shortcomings of his character, threatening to drive any local company who hired him into the ground with the patents that Mathers currently held. It seemed that the man was denied employment from every subsequent job, simply because of these letters. There were even some documents from companies—then smaller fish and today at the top of their game—begging Mathers to let them hire the man. Those companies were turned down flat and threatened.
When, finally, Charlotte came to the personal files of the blacklisted man, tears began to drip down her cheeks. There were pictures of him, his wife, and his son—a much younger David. They looked ecstatically happy during the year that he was employed. Then, there was a censored image of the man found in his bathtub, headlining a news article.
Brooklyn Man Found Dead in Bathroom: Victim of Tragic Suicide.
The rest of the information followed a growing David. It seemed that he had worked his entire life to support his family. Ever since Lester had been fired, they'd been close to destitute. He had worked his way through both high school and college, bolstered by his own brilliance. He had labored for years in white collar companies that had kept him on long enough to steal his patents. In return, those companies sold the patents to Mathers for millions of dollars.
The depth of the corruption made Charlotte sick to her stomach. By the time she'd reached present day, complete with David's mother's psychiatric and medical reports detailing deep depression and psychosis, she'd had enough.
Her father had lied. There was no doubt about that. It hadn't been Lester Marscomb who had stolen the patents. Rather, it was the other way around. The reason her father had never been tech savvy was because he'd never designed anything before. As far as the claim that David was her brother—Charlotte still wasn't so sure.
Among the files, she'd found several disturbing pictures of Lester’s wife. There was no doubt that she and Charlotte's father had an affair. However, it was unclear how deep the connection had gone. There was a very real possibility, Charlotte mused, that David was her half-brother; but, now that she'd discovered the depths of her father's lies, she didn't know what to think anymore.
As Charlotte logged out of the computer, she stood and wiped her eyes of the moisture that had filled them. She had to speak with David—the sooner, the better.
She had to know the truth.
Chapter Five
So this was what jail was like
In all his contemplations, over all the years that he'd planned on taking Mathers Incorporated down, David had never once imagined he'd end up here. Thankfully, he hadn't yet been transferred to a penitentiary, but he had no doubt it would be coming soon. He'd felt Mathers' jaw crack, as his fist had connected with it. Christ, it had felt good. All those years of pent up anger, resentment, and absolute hatred poured out of him.
The man deserved death, as far as he was concerned, but David wasn't a killer. Not that he wasn't tempted—the way the man had swooped in and ruined absolutely everything. He'd had Charlotte in the palm of his hand. She'd loved him. She'd trusted him. Now, she was busy building a lawsuit against him.
Surprisingly, David found this crushing in more than a platonic way. Yes, his plan had been foiled. Yes, he had been discovered far before he had reached his goal. However, the most devastating thing of all was the fact that he had lost the confidence of a woman he respected, and perhaps even had deeper feelings for.
He'd lost everything.
As he sat in the bare cell, with its single cot and open toilet, he started thinking. He thought more than he had in years—even more than he had while fervently planning the downfall of Mathers Incorporated.
How did he feel about Charlotte?
Not that it mattered. He would probably never see the woman again, unless it was at court. Then, she would host such hatred for him that it would be close to impossible to remember the intimate times they'd had.
She'd been beautiful. Against all odds and in spite of her parentage, she'd been beautiful, kind, generous, and amazing. Though he'd grown up under the impression that she was a carbon copy of the father who had raised her, he'd been wrong. It had actually been shocking, how deeply her father had wronged her in his quest to put his company on the map as one of the top tech firms in the world. Truly, Charlotte barely knew her father.
However, they were apparently close enough for her father to make accusations right in front of her, Adeline, and anyone else that counted. They were probably inspecting his creations with a fine-toothed comb as he contemplated, searching for any evidence of sabotage. If they looked hard enough, they would find it, and he would be done. He was facing years of jail time, total humiliation, and the utter dissolution of his family.
Luckily, he'd been able to call the hastily hired nurse to tell her he would be home late. Yet, what about the following day? His mother would have no one to care for her if he didn't call the woman back in, and he was only allowed a single phone call.
Along with his mother's helplessness, he had his own to consider. He had no close friends or other family who he thought would bail him out. In short, he was stuck behind bars until his court date with Mathers arrived.
The prospect made him ill. His life had been transformed into a veritable dung heap by that family. Now, he was under their thumb again.
Pathetic.
He should have been more careful.
He should have been more vigilant when it came to his developing feelings for Charlotte. When it came to his feelings for her, he'd let things get totally and completely out of hand. He should have used the material he'd had on her the moment he'd found it and damn his bleeding heart.
Somehow, he just hadn't wanted to hurt her.
She was different from her father. However, it appeared that feelings wouldn't keep her from pressing charges. According to the man that had arrested him, he was awaiting a list of pending charges from the company that included fraud, embezzlement, incest, and a whole range of other matters. Apparently, the charges were at least a page and a half long.
If Charlotte and Emerson Mathers got their way, he would never see the sun again. His father would be restless in his grave, having never found peace, and his mother? God knows what would happen to her. No doubt she would be shuffled from institution to institution until they placed her in the one looney bin secure enough to handle her for life.
For David, this was one of the most horrible things that he could contemplate—not only because he loved his mother and had been waiting his entire life for her recovery—but also because he had a plethora of new questions for her. For years, the woman had spoke precious few words, but when David thought of the accusations Mathers had made in Charlotte's office, he wanted answers.
Had his mother had an affair with Emerson? He looked nothing like the man; but, doubt was in the back of his mind, lingering. He couldn't believe his beloved mother would have betrayed his father like that—and while he was in the midst of trying to find a new job to support them to boot. How could she have even contemplated something so crude?
The man had to be lying.
He'd simply tossed the statement out there with no blood or paternity tests to prove it. Unfortunately, locked up as he was, David would probably never gain the right to demand such things from the man. Emerson Mathers had come up with the perfect excuse to lock him away for the foreseeable future.
Groaning at the fruitlessness of his situation, David collapsed on the hard cot that had been provided for him as a bed. It was far too short to fit his tall frame. In addition, it was as hard as a rock. It was a bed not meant for any moral man.
But, had he, in his quest for revenge, abandoned his morality?
David had been held in the precinct for three full days. In that time, he had ample opportunity to think about his morality.
H
e'd spent his entire life plotting to bring down a company built on greed and corruption. Was that so wrong of him? He'd never considered himself a horrible or selfish person, but the fact remained that he'd barely considered the effect he'd have on the hundreds of people who worked for the company. They'd be without jobs and without sources of income—even though it wouldn't be their fault that their employer was a black-hearted bastard.
Indeed, that wasn't even the case now.
Over the past decade, Charlotte had taken the reins of the company. She was as unlike her father as it was possible to be, assuming that the two were of the same flesh and blood.
The flesh and blood that he quite possibly shared.
The thought brought him close to gagging. There was far too much of a possibility that he had bedded his own sister. He was sure Emerson had used it as a point to further criticize his lack of morality. However, the truth was if the man's assertions were indeed true, David hadn't known he had a half-sister any more than Charlotte had known she had a brother.
His mother had never mentioned that he had any other father but Lester. Regrettably, Emerson Mathers had David questioning even her, and she was so mentally unstable that she could barely feed herself or move around the house.
Christ, what an asshole.
Here he was, imprisoned. Plus, it was quite possible that his mom would be put away in an institution for life. In the meantime, Mathers was probably laughing his way to the bank. Certainly, David had sabotaged all the projects he'd worked on for the firm, but it would be child's play to do away with the fail-safes and the cameras and simply market the products under new patents.
Undoubtedly, Mathers Incorporated was a pro at pulling off something like that by this juncture.
He'd fucked up.
He'd royally fucked up.
He was facing indefinite jail time and an utterly ruined reputation. What was he to do?
Strangely enough, the young man found his thoughts drifting back to Charlotte and the time they'd spent together. While, in the beginning, he'd promised himself that he'd allow himself only to become physically intimate with her—and nothing more—his feelings had rapidly multiplied. How could he have avoided it?
Charlotte was the complete antithesis of her father, which made it easy for him to envision a future with her. Though he'd known the entire time that the projection he was building was a ruse, David had imagined himself staying with her for years—perhaps eventually proposing and marrying the daughter of his sworn enemy.
The irony would be crippling, but Charlotte deserved no less. Even someone as jaded as he could realize that.
And now he'd utterly destroyed it.
The thoughts that ran through his head at least five or six times a day were enough to demoralize him to the point where he simply paced the room, arguing with himself about his own nature.
During a particularly intense self-berating session, a guard beyond the bars of his cell announced that he had a visitor. David wondered who it was for the few scant moments it took the guard to remove him from his cell and maneuver him to the visitation room. The moment he entered the cement-walled space, his eyes widened as he caught the gaze of the only occupant present.
Marshall.
Chapter Six
Marshall sat at the opposite end of the table, his expression grim. “Shit, man,” he said, making David wince. “I knew something had to be up when that nurse didn't know where you were.”
Christ, Marshall was still babysitting him like he was a teenager. While David was glad to see a familiar face, the embarrassment that he was in cuffs far outweighed any pleasure he felt. What must Marshall think of him?
“You shouldn't be here, Marshall.” It was all he could think of to say.
At David’s words, Marshall’s face only became more somber, and he said, “I'm here to pay your bail.”
“Like hell you are.” David knew that his bail was set at ten thousand dollars since Mathers Incorporated was such a high profile company. He'd be dead and in his grave before he let anyone pay such a lofty sum of money to get him out of the situation he'd worked himself into. “I won't let you.”
“David, do you think we've been friends for this long because you've let me be friends with you?” Marshall's gaze was sincere as he leaned across the table, under the close watch of the guard. “You've been inside this little bubble your entire life, and you're under some gross misconception that I pity you or think less of you because of the circumstances you've encountered. I've come here today to tell you that you're wrong.” Stunned, David couldn't find the words to rebut him. While he vainly searched for what to say to dissuade Marshall, he only steamrolled on. “I've never pitied you or considered you a charity case. If I've paid for you, it's only because I thought it was the least you deserved. For thirty-five years, life has been throwing you these devastating curve balls; yet, every time, you manage to come out on top.”
His words drew scathing laughter from the dark-eyed man, who merely shook his head. “On top? Marshall, do you want to know why I'm in here? I plotted to bring down Mathers, and I nearly had. Everything was going as I wanted until…suddenly…” he trailed off, somewhat lost in his thoughts, “…until, suddenly, it wasn't.”
“What happened, David?” Marshall's soft inquiry touched something in David that he thought was long dead, something that was barely brought to light by Charlotte—a woman he was sure would never speak directly to him again.
Knowing that the guard wouldn't be able to take any kind of statement unless it was legally documented, David spilled every emotion he’d experienced and every detail of the plot that he’d implemented over the last six months. After keeping it to himself so long, he had to admit that it felt good to finally have someone who could merely listen to him. His pride was bruised and his masculinity had suffered an unrecoverable blow; but, he had finally aired his most intimate skeletons.
Funnily enough, Marshall didn't look as disgusted as David would have thought. Disappointed, certainly, and more than a little confused; but, he didn't rise to leave the room in a huff.
In fact, as soon as David finished speaking, he voiced his own concerns. “You've been planning this for…years?”
“Since shortly after my father died, yes. Marshall, you can't imagine the impression it made on me. My father killed himself because Mathers went after him so relentlessly. What that man did was inhumane.”
“And was what you were planning any more humane? Use any means necessary to bring the company down? Christ, David, you were even willing to exploit the woman you love.”
“I do not love her.” David’s denial was sudden and vehement, his gray eyes narrowing. “I respect her, and now I realize that it was wrong of me to involve her; but, love is something that takes multitudes of years and leagues of trust, Marshall. These are things that I haven't had the opportunity to acquire.”
“Bullshit.” His companion's response rang through the room caustically, his expression firm. “David, you talk about her like a man obsessed. If I'd have known when we last spoke, perhaps I could have done something.”
“Something like what?” David scoffed, shaking his head.
“Like brought you back from the brink,” Marshall replied flatly, rolling his eyes playfully with a small smile. “Falling for the girl was a major problem, man.”
Like he needed anyone else to tell him that.
Marshall's smile, however, was the first he'd seen in days, and it gave him hope. After a terse moment's silence, he sighed, casting his eyes down towards the table. “I'm going to pay you back, you know.”
“Sure, no problem.” Marshall was already standing, pulling out his checkbook, as he signaled to the guard. His entire life David had told himself that friends were an unnecessary distraction. First, it was work that he needed to devote himself to and then his elaborate revenge scheme. He'd never had time for friends. But Marshall? Marshall had stuck by him through every ordeal in his life—and was still standing by him
, even in the face of a multi-billion dollar company pressing charges.
At the age of thirty-five, David was beginning to realize that he had underestimated the merits of friendship.
It took about an hour’s worth of paperwork, facing the stern chief of the district—who was almost certainly against David when it came to fighting for his supposed innocence. However, he was eventually freed on bail. Walking out of the precinct was one of the most liberating experiences in David's life—until he remembered he'd still have to deal with the Mathers father and daughter, who were undoubtedly out for his blood. Plus, he was determined to confront his mother.
She might have barely spoken for the last decade, but he needed her to speak now. He needed her to reassure him that Emerson had just been bellowing lies. She would never have cheated on his father, would she? Mathers had implied that it had been going on for years. David must have been born from that perverted union. He needed answers—and the sooner, the better.
As he and Marshall emerged into the sunlight, a shout from their right caught David's attention. He glanced over to see a petite woman. She was no more than five-foot-two or so with warm brown eyes and dark hair, and she was waving to them. She wore an amazing, green-fitted suit that highlighted her curvaceous figure. Her smile was surprising, considering she was searching for two men fresh out of a police station.
“Leah, hey,” said Marshall.
David glanced at his friend and back to the woman again. The name Marshall had called sounded familiar, though he would swear on his life he'd never seen the newcomer before. “David,” Marshall said, as he paused at the edge of the sidewalk to let the woman catch up with them. “This is my sister, Leah. She's one of the best defense attorneys in the business.”
Ah. Over the years, Marshall had mentioned his younger sister a few times, but David had never actually met her. Despite the fact that he'd just come out of an extremely confusing pseudo-relationship with a woman bound to hate him, he couldn't help but notice that she was quite cute—and that she looked nothing like her brother. “She's going to be helping us out.”
