Dead Weight

by Kat Faitour

  “Hey.” Mason laid a tentative hand on her forearm. “I wasn’t accusing you of anything. I…” Well, hell, what had been his point? “I suppose it seemed out of character for you to show up at the house in the first place.” He thought he’d made it very clear that he wanted separation between the Orphans and Margaux. So he’d been shocked to see Noor arrive at the house that morning over a week ago. “And when I heard you raving about the diamond to Margaux, I thought…” He paused, thinking. “Well, I was stunned.”

  “It wasn’t intended to sabotage the project.” Noor’s voice was tight. “I was making conversation, that’s all. And as I said, I didn’t think.” She propped a hand on her hip. Cullen stood to the side, watching the exchange between Noor and Mason like a tennis match. “Why did you leave the room anyway, if you were so worried about me meeting Margaux on your personal turf?”

  Mason frowned, taken aback. “I didn’t tell you? The call I took was from Clara.”

  Cullen stepped forward. “Did she find Ruby?”

  “I’m sorry. Did you all think I was lost?” The subject of the conversation appeared in the doorway to the lab, looking relaxed and unbothered, as if she’d been on vacation rather than off on some mission known only to her and possibly Clara.

  “Ruby,” Mason breathed. He stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. “You know we were worried.” With hands on her shoulders, he pushed her back so he could inspect her from head to toe. Satisfied at what he saw, he pulled her close for another embrace.

  “Forgive me?” he questioned, his lips close to her ear.

  She nodded but remained stiff in his arms. Reluctantly, he released her, knowing some things took time. And Ruby deserved his patience.

  She turned her attention to the conference table and its contents. “What do we have here?”

  Cullen stepped up, throwing an arm over Ruby’s shoulder in greeting. He pinched her cheek. “While you’ve been off gallivanting around the world, we’ve been hard at work.” He motioned to the rows of trays on the left side of the table. “These are the Taylor conflict diamonds.” Next, he waved at the trays on the right. “And these are our lab-created replicas.”

  Ruby raised her hand. “Wait. We’re doing a switch?”

  Cullen smirked at Mason. “You want to tell her?”

  Mason grimaced. “My attempt to steal the diamonds was a bust.” He shook his head in an effort to quell the questions she looked ready to spout. “It’s a long story, and I can fill you in later. But yeah. We’re doing a switch. Then we’ll plant a leak about the diamonds not being mined and Taylor Corporation will be ruined.”

  Ruby listened, pensive. “And what is this stone?” She pointed to the big diamond in the center. “Why is it singled out?”

  Silence immediately fell over the group like a blanket. Ruby swiveled her head, looking for an answer from someone. Anyone.

  When no one offered, she leaned over the table, peering closely at the stone. She picked up its case, turning it first one way then another. Whistling, she set it back down.

  “It looks incredible. What’s its grade?”

  Noor spoke up. “It’s flawless. Colorless. And over ten carats.” She smiled when Ruby’s mouth fell open. “And welcome back, Ruby. It’s good to see you.”

  Ruby’s mouth quirked, like she wanted to smile but wasn’t quite sure of herself.

  “So why have you set this stone apart?” She looked at Mason. “Is it mined or grown?”

  “Mined.” He confirmed. “I can’t replicate it. Not in the current timeframe. Maybe never.”

  “So what happens to it?” Scratching her temple, Ruby looked past Mason toward Cullen. “And why’d you cut it that way?”

  “He didn’t,” Mason answered. “Hope did. She wanted the cut to showcase its exceptional quality.”

  “Well that was stupid.” Ruby was blunt as ever. “But it’s never going to be sold anyway. It will wind up in Clara’s vault, where it will never see the light of day again.”

  Everyone dropped their eyes. Cullen shifted, Noor backed up a step, and Mason tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

  “Right?” When the awkward silence persisted, she added, “Mason?”

  He shut his eyes, taking a deep breath. When he reopened them, Ruby was waiting, staring intently. “Not quite, Carrot.”

  She grimaced. “What do you mean?”

  “I can’t switch the stone. Like I said, I don’t have one like it. Not even close.” He rubbed his bottom lip. Ruby was going to hate this. “And I can’t remove the stone. They already know too much about it.” He looked at Noor, who had the grace to seem embarrassed.

  Confused, Ruby said, “I’ve obviously missed a lot.”

  “I told Margaux Taylor about the diamond. I gave her my grading report,” Noor confessed. “She told her father, who alerted the press. Buyers are ringing daily, wanting to be part of the auction.” She blushed, pointing to the diamond. “It’s become a bit notorious. It’s not the Golden Jubilee, but it’s garnered too much attention for it to be replaced. Even if we could.”

  “And we’re going to just let it sell? Knowing what it must be worth?” Ruby snorted. “And for what? So some bored hobbyist, with more money than morals, can add it to their collection, thinking they’ve scored a jewel to make them famous?”

  She thrust her chin out, staring at each of them with narrowed eyes.

  “I don’t think so. If you’re all too chicken shit, then I’ll steal it myself.” She reached forward, as if to pluck the offending stone from the table.

  Mason grabbed her forearm. “That’s enough, Ruby.” He let go as soon as she tugged but kept his feet planted, ready to step in. “Not everything works out for the best. Not the way we want it to.” His voice was rough and deep. He knew this truth all too well. Within days, he would lose Margaux forever, and the pain of that could easily bring him to his knees. So he pushed it down, knowing he could unpack it later when he had nothing but time and no one but himself as company.

  But Ruby wasn’t going to let him off the hook. “You’re giving up because it’s easier for you. And I expect it’ll be easier for Margaux Taylor if the money from this diamond can fund her early retirement from the business.”

  Mason’s blood pressure started to rise. “You’re out of line. You waltzed in here fifteen minutes ago and think you have all the answers. While you’ve been off the grid,” he air quoted the words, “we’ve been working our asses off to make this situation as right as we can. So, lay off.”

  “Fine.” Ruby spun away, leaving Mason, Noor, and Cullen staring after her. “You guys carry on. Make it right, as you say.”

  Mason was frustrated and furious. He’d lost his cool, further estranging her. With a heavy heart, he wondered if he was destined to alienate all the women he cared about.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he called out after her. “This is nothing like The Thornblood.”

  She swung her gaze around. To the stone first, and then to him. “No, it isn’t. And it won’t be.”

  Mason couldn’t be sure if her words were a promise or threat.

  * * *

  Mason checked the stables first. Then he went through the lower level of the main house until he found Thomas in the main salon.

  “Margaux?” he asked.

  His butler pointed at the ceiling, indicating she was upstairs.

  Taking them two at a time, Mason ran up the stairs. He dreaded the upcoming night, knowing his time with Margaux was at an end. As soon as the diamonds had been switched, it was over. And in that moment, the improbable hope he’d held in the secret spaces of his heart expired. Whatever feelings Margaux may have had for him wouldn’t survive what he had done.

  She would never forgive him.

  And if he didn’t end things now, if he indulged himself and touched her again before she knew the truth, then he would never forgive himself either.

  He stopped outside her door and took a deep breath. As he’d slowly come to the
realization of what he must do that day, the anticipation had been excruciating. But the time had come. Now, not later.

  For both their sakes, he would execute a fast and fatal end. There could be no room for recriminations. No place for pleas.

  “Margaux?”

  He knocked on the door to her suite and waited. No answer. He pushed it open a crack.

  Stillness and silence greeted him, telling him without seeing that the room was empty. He turned, momentarily puzzled.

  Thomas seemed sure she was upstairs. So that left his rooms, although she didn’t, as a rule, go to his suite when he wasn’t there.

  Nevertheless, it’s where she must be. Otherwise, she’d gone out, and Thomas would have known if that were the case.

  Mason strode down the hallway, his steps gaining speed. Already, his heart weakened. And his brain wanted to bargain.

  Must she find out?

  Was there another way, one that didn’t leak the truth about the switch?

  Or, failing that, could he explain what he’d done? Make her see?

  By the time Mason reached his suite, his stomach was knotted and bile burned his throat. The door was ajar, so he pushed it wide on soundless hinges. There was no sign of Margaux.

  Gingerly, he stepped inside and looked around.

  “Hello, Mason.” Margaux’s voice drifted from the bedroom, which was separated from the outer sitting room by pocket French doors. She was sitting on the bed, her back propped against the tufted headboard.

  He crossed the threshold. Spread out on the bed in front of her was his entire toolkit, including lock picks, stethoscopes, and the safe breaking auto-dialer. The black clothing he’d assembled for his trip to South Africa was also laid out, so each individual item was clear to see.

  He froze, unable to breathe. His heart, after throwing itself against his ribs in one hard beat, stopped entirely.

  “Say something,” she seethed.

  He gaped, unable to speak or breathe or move.

  “Say something,” she shrieked. “Goddamn you, admit what you did!” She hurled a pair of needle nose pliers. They struck his shoulder, then bounced harmlessly to the floor, clattering across the wood.

  The small strike was enough to jolt his heart into beating, his lungs into breathing, and his knees into unlocking.

  He took one jerky step forward, but Margaux jumped up, arms outstretched to ward him away. Mason halted.

  He opened his mouth, but no words came.

  She spared him the effort. “You played a good game, Mason. I’ll give you that.” She gestured to the bed. “All this time, you’ve preached and pressured me about the evils of diamond mining.” She laughed, the sound shrill and completely humorless. “You were so noble. So righteous.”

  Without thinking, Mason reached for her, but the venom in her glare made his hands drop, useless and empty at his sides.

  “But there’s nothing virtuous about you, is there?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “You’re a criminal. A low-life thief. And a pathetic, vicious liar.”

  “Margaux,” he began. He’d expected, even anticipated, her fury. The discovery of his deception, and how he used her to replace the diamonds, guaranteed a cataclysmic end for them, one where neither would walk away unscathed.

  But he never, not once, considered the confrontation would come for reasons other than what he’d done that day.

  “Don’t say my name,” she hissed. “Every word out of your mouth since we met has been a lie. You deceived me. Betrayed me. Threatened me.”

  “Never,” he interrupted, desperate. “I would never hurt you.” But as soon as the words were said, he knew them as false. Whether he intended harm was irrelevant. And as much as he’d tried to convince himself otherwise, it was exactly what he’d meant from the beginning. To steal from her, using intimidation if necessary. And to destroy her career and the company she worked for.

  To bring the Taylor name—and everything it stood for—to nothing.

  With both palms outward, Margaux shoved Mason, sending him back two steps. “Liar,” she shouted. “Either tell me the truth now, as I ask, or I’m gone. And by God, I’ll be going straight to the authorities. So you had better stop lying.”

  Mason scrubbed a hand across his face. He didn’t really know what it meant that she’d found his clothing and tools from the South Africa trip. God knows, he’d botched the whole plan. But this looked bad. Really bad.

  He needed to figure out what she knew. Exploit any doubts she might still harbor. And hope like hell for damage control.

  He crossed the room, walking away from her, to go back into the sitting area. There was no way he was having this discussion near the bed where they’d lain and loved and laughed. He couldn’t. And frankly, he was surprised she could. But perhaps that was her intention. To destroy the memories they had shared. To confront his duplicity within a whisper of the bed where he’d stripped himself bare, body and soul, silently pledging himself as hers.

  If she’d but known it.

  “Come out here.”

  “Don’t think you can order me around, Mason. I’m not one of your lackeys.” Her glare was murderous.

  If the situation hadn’t been so dire, he’d have laughed. Did she think he had lackeys? Because, the way he saw it, that was more her style.

  His voice hardened. “Get out here, Margaux. Now. We are not having this conversation in the bedroom.”

  She sauntered out, smirking. “So is that where you draw the line? You don’t want to talk about what you did to me in the same room where you fucked me?”

  He gritted his teeth. The leash on his control was slipping fast. “If anything, we fucked each other. So don’t act like you weren’t right there with me.”

  “Oh, I was there. But the playing field was never level, Mason. I never wanted to hurt you. I sure as hell never planned to steal from you.”

  He was guilty of only one item on her list. “Listen, I’ll admit I came to South Africa for your diamonds,” he conceded. “But only because—”

  “How generous of you to confess,” she sneered, interrupting. “You assaulted me. Terrorized me,” she whispered, her voice agonized. “I’ve never been scared in my life. Until I met you.”

  Mason’s chest tightened, and sweat broke out on his forehead. Something didn’t make sense. “Margaux,” he entreated. “At the time when we met, my offense was one of intention, not execution.” At her look of disbelief, he pressed on. She couldn’t possibly know, not yet, of how his original plans had changed. “What exactly do you think I’m guilty of?”

  She walked straight up and smacked him across the face.

  Shocked, Mason stared. His face heated in what he knew must be an angry welt where she’d struck him.

  “The night we met, you bastard.” She poked him in the chest, emphasizing each word. “You attacked me. Threw me to the ground, tried to steal my case.”

  Mason’s head reared back. She had a right to be upset, but she was acting unhinged. “I saved you.”

  She laughed, the sound high-pitched and hysterical. Mason took hold of her wrists and pressed her hands against his chest, rendering her immobile. “Margaux, you have to listen to me. You’re not thinking straight.”

  She jerked her hands free, then gestured wildly to the bedroom and the piles of incriminating evidence against him. “You’re a thief! You planned to rob me and steal my diamonds. At least be enough of a man to admit it,” she cried.

  He swallowed. “I admit it. I do.” When she whirled away, he reached out and cupped her shoulder. Her answering flinch pierced his heart. “That was the plan. But I didn’t do it.” He raked his fingers through his hair, tousling it. “Hell, I never had the chance. Someone else was there.” Taking advantage of her momentary docility, he turned her to face him. “You know that, Margaux. I couldn’t be both men at once. I couldn’t be the one who attacked you and the one who saved you.”

  She opened and closed her mouth as if struggling to find her voice
. She screwed up her eyes, peering at him. “You could have hired that man to be your accomplice. To give you better odds.”

  Mason shook his head. “No, because then I’d have your diamonds.” He gently squeezed her shoulders. “Don’t you see? I couldn’t carry it out. After the other man ran away—the stranger,” Mason clarified. “I had every chance to take the diamonds for myself. But I didn’t.”

  She shrugged off his hands and paced the room. “You’re trying to confuse me.” She rubbed her neck while shaking her head. Her eyes skated to the next room, to the bed and his supplies. “You may have changed your plans for that one night, but who’s to say you didn’t try another?”

  Mason narrowed his eyes until they were mere slits. “What exactly are you suggesting?”

  She pivoted and fixed him with a cold stare.

  “You’re nothing more than a liar, trying to save yourself once you’ve been caught.” She chopped the air, gesturing once again to his gear. “But I think you’re guilty of more than being a thief.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “You’re a murderer.”

  “What?” he shouted, the lid coming off his temper.

  But Margaux wasn’t fazed. “You broke into my lab! And when Andrew stumbled into whatever you were doing, you hit him. You hit him so hard,” she sobbed, “that you cracked his skull open. You put him into a coma, and he laid like that until he finally died.”

  “NO,” Mason said. The conversation had taken a turn so surreal he could barely keep a handle on himself. “How can you think that?” he asked, his voice straining. His lungs constricted, making it difficult to breathe.

  “You did it,” she insisted. “Only someone like you, someone with no morals or integrity, could have left him like that.” Her face was flushed, her entire body shaking with the force of her distress. “You’re evil.”

  Mason clenched and unclenched his fists, his nostrils flaring as he breathed deeply, fighting for control. But it was no use. He couldn’t put a cap back on his emotions, not after her horrid accusations. He lifted his chin and swallowed past the painful tightness in his throat.