Defeating the System, page 10
And it had to be something extraordinary. Something that could destroy his dad. And the only thing Roman could think of that could do such a thing was O’Malley. He didn’t know how or why, but he was certain it had to be linked to the squat bastard with their clandestine meetings.
And then, and only then, did he know that Henrietta would believe he’d had nothing to do with any of this. That he hadn’t lied to her, that he himself was a victim to his father as much as she was.
‘I’m going to sue that law firm,’ his dad continued as he stepped closer to Roman. ‘Especially that Hugh Doyle—’
‘Geoff Boyle,’ Roman corrected without thinking, his mind whirling as he tried to figure out what to do, what his next move should be.
‘Boyle, Doyle, Douglas, whichever of them blabbed to that secretary of yours about the will,’ Gerald continued.
Roman’s brows raised at the mention of Sue. So that’s who’d been watching her. He half hoped his dad didn’t come any closer to him as he was liable to smack him just for scaring the crap out of his poor assistant. Never mind kill him for everything else. The other half hoped he came so he could do just that.
‘That’s a severe breech of the data securities act,’ Dad went on.
‘Then I guess we’ll have to find out who was circumventing me getting my mail. Messing with the Royal Mail is an offence against the Crown,’ Roman reminded Gerald as his brain tried to fathom what it was Jensen might have, what O’Malley might have got their dad to do.
Embezzlement? No, his dad wouldn’t be so stupid. Maybe, he’d cut corners somewhere and caused a serious problem, resulting in being blackmailed by the other man. But Roman hadn’t heard of any quality complaints and as he had so many contacts throughout the hospitals and private care facilities in the country and internationally, someone would have said something to him. Or he’d have at least heard a rumour of such a thing. Although, he supposed if their dad had managed to conceal the fact Jensen had a will, who knew what the Tyrrell patriarch could be hiding?
‘The Crown, since when were you so scared of what the Crown would do?’ Dad scoffed. ‘Even after I warned you to stay away from that little tramp you deign to call a wife—’
‘Do not call Henrietta a such a thing!’ Roman spat, his anger instantly rising at the audacity of his father. He’d taken it as a teen, he would not take it as a man. ‘She is my wife, and you will respect her.’
‘She’s a dirty, little whore,’ Gerald told him. Roman blinked at the words. They were exactly what Roman had used all those years ago as he’d hastily gathered his clothes in a hurry to leave her. It twisted something ugly within him as his brain finally recognised where he’d got them from; his own father had put them into his teenage mouth.
‘Don’t you dare,’ Roman told him through clenched teeth as he started towards the senior Tyrrell, his hands fisted at his side, ready to shut Dad up if he had to. ‘She’s nothing of the—’
Roman stopped short, his hands automatically lifting in surrender and his feet stepping back again without thinking as his eyes focused on the barrel of the gun Gerald raised to counter his movements.
All of Roman’s emotions shut down, silencing his earlier thoughts, as he focused on the firearm. There was a magazine in it, the safety was off, and Gerald had his finger on the trigger. With the desperation in his father’s eyes, Roman knew he was willing to use it. Roman swallowed hard at the thought, before telling himself to refocus on what he could see and hear, as he’d have to translate all this back to Andrews and Captain Walker and—
Fuck! Roman’s mind shouted; he’d left his phone in his jacket downstairs. There was no way to send the distress signal to Andrews without it. And without the RPO racing up here, he doubted he’d see beyond this room again. He shouldn’t have told the other man to wait in the lobby.
He didn’t care about dying, but his heart thudded in his chest at the idea of never again seeing his Henrietta. At not being able to look into her eyes one last time, seeing that heat and desire she’d had for him, even if he never saw the love he wished he would.
Knowing he’d die a liar in her heart, broke his completely. It had already cut him deeply that she thought such a thing. If he died today, he’d never be redeemed to her, the title of liar clinging to him even in death.
He doubted she’d cry for him the way she had for his twin. God, that was a painful thought.
And a selfish one, he chided himself.
But the biggest pain he’d suffer, the only real regret he’d carry with him into death would be that he’d never once told her he loved her.
‘She’s a filthy slut and you damn well know it,’ Dad jarred him from his melancholy thoughts as he jabbed the gun in Roman’s direction. ‘Your brother was shagging her the night before he was blown up. That baby isn’t yours; fuck knows if it’s even Jensen’s.’
Roman frowned. He’d never told Mum and Dad the truth. He’d never mentioned to anyone that Hattie had been there when Jensen had died and he knew everyone that Hattie had mentioned it to: her sisters, her grandparents, Prince Alistair, and Julia.
There was no way Julia would have told his dad—she hated his entire family—neither would Hattie’s sisters, and it was completely impossible that the King or Queen would utter a word to anyone. Good grief they’d slaughter anyone they found spreading such foul gossip; no one would dare disparage the House of Grey!
Because my officer told me she’s loud.
Marcus’ words from weeks ago hit him. The Royal Guard also knew. After all, they’d arranged the explosion of the area, and they’d rushed Hattie to hospital, hiding her from the emergency services who’d shown up…
That had to be it. One of the bastards gossiping to the wrong people. He was going to kill Marcus Walker if he got out of this alive.
No, Roman decided. He was going to destroy the Captain’s life and make him wish Roman had killed him instead. He’d take everything from him, his job, his home, every person who had ever known him would be turned against him, and his word would be worth sod all by the time he was through. He wouldn’t be able to volunteer as a school’s crossing officer when Roman was done!
‘Trying to work it all out, are you?’ Dad asked with the shake of his head. ‘How did I find out that little bit of information? Can’t put all the pieces together to solve the puzzle? Thought you were supposed to be clever?’ Gerald laughed, a cold, bitter bark.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘No, you never have,’ Gerald said, his voice filled with disgust. ‘Jensen was always the brighter of you two. Too bloody bright, it seemed. I really had high hopes for him working with you in Seymour Medical, but from the start he pushed back, fought against me, far too wilful, so I was stuck with just you.’
‘The hell…?’ Roman said with a shake of his head. ‘I did everything you ever asked, and I’ve turned our company’s fortune around. I’ve raised profits by sixty-four percent, I won the royal contracts on the last eight Royal Suite refurbishments and had a ninth one lined up for the brand-new suite at Earlsbury General! I quadrupled the share price. Our company has never looked so good. Not even under grandpa—’
‘You ruined me!’ Gerald shouted. ‘Cost me a fortune with what you’ve done.’
‘No, I made you a fortune.’
‘No, you ruined a damn good thing I had planned. I kept telling you to stay away from the royal stuff. Told you to stop throwing money into R and D, that we were fine where we were—’
‘We were languishing,’ Roman bit back, forgetting he probably shouldn’t antagonise the man holding a weapon. ‘As it is, even with all our progress, the increase in our reputation, our patented technology, we’ve lost contracts recently to newer firms, ones without the experience, without the budgets we have, because they’re undercutting and we’re not selling the clients on the quality, on the experience we have—’
‘I’m the one telling those firms what to do and how to do it.‘ Gerald laughed, a bitter, twisted thing that sent a shiver down Roman’s spine.
‘What?’ Roman stared at his father aghast. That didn’t make sense; why would he destroy everything he’d helped to build up over all these years? Why would he want to ruin the company that would be his legacy? ‘Why? You don’t need the money, we’re running at an all-time high on the shares, and with the number you have you’re set for life. You don’t—’
‘—have them.’ His father bellowed, the gun shaking in his hand as he jabbed it towards Roman in frustration. ‘I don’t have the shares. I took a loan out against them, no interest, I just had to buy them back at the current price when I wanted them—’
‘The hell?’ Roman stared at his father in horror. Why would he do such a thing? The company wasn’t struggling, they made great margins on all the jobs, they’d just given everyone a bloody good pay rise for the most successful year they’d ever had, and their research and development team had done some fantastic work that would ensure patents secured for years to come. They were set.
‘I saw a sure-fire way to make a heap of cash,’ Gerald told him. ‘I took the loan against them just before you became an executive. I figured you’d keep your head down and do exactly as I’d said, just as always.’
Roman scoffed at his dad’s words. Of course, he’d thought that, because Roman had done everything he’d ever been told.
‘I planned on running them lower before buying the damn things back, but then you—’ Gerald sneered at him, gnashing his teeth and thrusting the gun towards Roman again. ‘You got promoted and started turning things around too early. We were meant to dip before climbing. I’d have paid the loan off when it was low, and then made a killing.’
‘So, what? Now you’re going to kill me?’
‘You should already be dead,’ Gerald told him. ‘If your pain in the arse brother hadn’t been playing dress up—’
‘What?’ Roman choked, the wind being knocked from his lungs at the implication in his father’s words. ‘What are you saying?’ His was voice strained and tight as he tried to stop the world from spinning around him. He reached for the bookcase behind him, to stop from toppling over.
Jensen had been dressed like him, Hattie had told him so, how his brother had rocked up that night dressed in a suit like Roman’s, using a company car like Roman did, telling her everyone thought—
‘You set the bomb. You blew up Jensen.’
‘I thought it was you.’ Gerald sounded so dismissive, as if he were talking about giving him the wrong dish in a restaurant rather than killing his own son. ‘I didn’t know you’d told your secretary you were working from home. I saw him dressed like you, marching around the office, giving people orders, and assumed it was you. You know how hard it is to tell you two apart, and why the fuck would I think it was Jensen anyway? He had nothing to do with the office! And I need to find out what the little shit was doing there.’
‘You wanted to kill me to… to what end? What did you think—’ The answer dawned on him before he’d even finished his question. ‘The share price. You knew without me the share price would plummet…’
‘The damn news got out too quickly that it wasn’t you, and I couldn’t get to my broker in time to—’
‘O’Malley,’ Roman said.
‘Yes, that evil little bastard.’
‘Evil? You killed your own son!’
‘And this time, I’m going to kill the right one.’ Gerald held the gun at him again. ‘And it’s going to look like a suicide.’
‘It will not.’
‘It will.’
‘No one will believe it.’
His dad laughed, a cold heartless thing that sent a shiver down Roman’s spine. ‘Really? Your wife finds out you’re lying about your brother’s fortune. You argue and it’s revealed she’s slept with Jensen and the baby is really his. I mean, there’s so much I can spin from just that alone. Never mind the idea of you being unable to stop your wandering eye. the whole world knows you love the ladies—’
‘They’d never believe it,’ Roman tried, horrified at the ease his father would have at spinning such a thing. Although, Roman would not make it easy for him. He’d go down fighting and—
‘There you are!’ Hattie’s voice pierced the air. Roman’s eyes widened as time seemed to slow down when the door opened, and Hattie strode into the room. Her gaze on him, her lips moving as she told him off, but her voice sounded distorted, like when a cassette player got stretched and pulled.
Roman glanced between her and his dad, who swung the firearm to aim at his beloved. Her focus turned to Gerald as she became aware of his presence, her deep-brown eyes widening in surprise before confusion and horror replaced her curiosity.
‘What the—?’
It felt like it took a lifetime as his head swivelled from his Henrietta to Gerald and back again.
‘No!’ he shouted as he moved. It felt like he had to fight against the air itself to reach for her, his hand clawing through the molecules that made up the world around them, defeating gravity as he grabbed at her hand, finger still pointed in his direction. She could scream and shout all she wanted afterwards, but right now he had to get her to safety.
His aim had been to push her away, back through the door she’d stepped through, using himself as a shield if he had to, just to give her enough time to run and hopefully get to one of the RPOs waiting for them far below. But the crack of the gun rang loud in the air, making her scream. She stepped towards him, throwing herself into his arms. He gathered her close, her body sagging against him, almost limp, and panic filled his being. Had she been hit? Had she walked into the path of the bullet in an attempt to get to him?
He made a split-second decision as his father cursed and turned the gun at the two of them.
Roman spun them around, throwing Hattie towards the open door of the panic room and ran in after her as a second and third shot rang out behind them, the bullets ricocheting off the metal surroundings of the door frame.
Roman threw himself into the room, turning to see where the button to close it might be, but the door was already shutting behind him.
He watched his father fire one more shot in his direction, the bullet pinging harmlessly against the door, as it closed and locked, sealing Henrietta and him inside.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Hattie wobbled precariously on her stiletto clad feet as she half-stumbled, half-fell into the room.
‘What the hell just hap—ah!’ Her cry of confusion was quickly cut off into a sharp yelp of pain as she grabbed onto one of the rows of shelves in front of her to steady herself, but it was too late; her ankle bent quickly before righting again, sending a jolt of pain up her leg.
‘Henrietta?’ Roman’s voice, filled with fear, was loud in the small room. She gritted her teeth, sucking air through them in a hiss, as she turned around, trying to keep the weight off her throbbing ankle.
‘Are you shot? Where did he hit you?’ Roman asked in a rush of breath, already at her side, hands reaching out to her. Instinctively, Hattie stepped back, jamming her shoulders into the thick shelves, causing herself to curse at the pain that bloomed across her shoulder blades, just as Roman’s hands ran over her body, searching for injuries that weren’t there.
‘For fuck’s sake!‘ She took a deep breath and batted away her husband’s hands. ‘He didn’t get me. I went over on my foot,’ she explained. Roman’s hands dropped to his side and head dipped, his eyes focusing on her designer heels before he slowly raised his unimpressed gaze back to hers.
‘I told you those things were bloody dangerous.’ He sounded beyond exasperated as he took her elbow in hand and guided her towards the small settee in the middle of the room.
She tried to protest, but as soon as she put weight on her ankle, she hissed again; pain shooting up her leg and down to her toes. Instead of pushing Roman away as she’d planned, her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer as she breathed in deeply, waiting for the pain to abate.
‘You’re a pain in the arse,’ he huffed as he bent down and scooped her up in his arms.
She thought he might just throw her onto the couch with the way he marched the few steps towards it, but he couldn’t have been more careful as he gently placed her at one end, before taking point at the other, ankle in hand as he removed her shoes with the most delicate of touches.
‘Which one is it?’ he asked, looking between the two of them. Before she could answer, he carefully slid his hands under her slightly elevated right foot. ‘This one?’
She nodded mutely, watching his fingers running over her skin, gently pressing at various points. ‘Tell me where it hurts,’ he told her, his voice a little lower than just a moment ago.
‘Roman what just— Son of a bitch!’ She tried to pull her foot away as he poked the tender part behind her ankle bone.
‘Okay, I don’t think it’s broken. Looks like you’ve just jarred it. It should be fine in a bit.’ His words said he was done but his fingers continued to linger upon her skin, once again sliding up her ankle, softly stroking where he knew he was safe to touch. Hattie swallowed as she watched his hands, feeling a little feverish as she wished them to move higher, to touch her everywhere, to ignite in her that fire that only he seemed to be able to stoke in her.
Her eyes slipped closed as his fingers inched upwards, caressing her calves before slowly gliding back down. She wanted them higher. It had only been a few days without his touch, but she yearned for it, craved it, had laid in her childhood bed for the past several nights wishing she could have him there or that she could go to him, but she couldn’t, she mustn’t…
Her tongue slipped out, wetting her lips before sinking her teeth into her lower one when his gentle touch roamed higher again. She bit back the moan that threatened to spill from her and refocused on the feelings she’d been feeling towards him all week and more so that morning after visiting Victoria and Cormac. She was furious with him for lying to her, for tricking her into a marriage of convenience. Frustration ran through her body, making her want to run a mile as fast as she could to burn through it, and it was worse that she was most frustrated at herself for getting into the whole situation. She was truly hurt by his actions and betrayed by the way he’d behaved since they began this whole mess, making her really believe that there was hope of something more, that they could work together, be partners… Even if she couldn’t have had his heart, she’d have been happy with that scenario. But ultimately, he’d never had such intentions. And that had led to fear. Fear that she had to walk away from him, lose the dream she’d always held close to her heart that one day she’d win his…
