Chapter 3 - THE MAN WHO ORDERED HER FATHER’S DEATH
Victor Mercer invited them to dinner.
That alone told Mave everything she needed to know about rich criminals.
Normal people got caught arranging murder and ran.
Rich criminals ordered wine.
Victor’s estate sat beyond the city behind iron gates.
Rowan refused to let Mave go unprepared.
“No improvising.”
“I improvise professionally.”
“You make bread.”
“Exactly. Yeast is unpredictable.”
“This is not bread.”
“Everything is bread if you lower your standards.”
Rowan stared at her.
Then laughed.
She was getting better at making him do that.
It frightened her how much she liked it.
They entered Victor’s dining room at eight.
Victor Mercer was sixty-three.
Silver hair.
Expensive suit.
Warm smile.
He looked like somebody’s favorite uncle.
Mave hated him instantly.
“My dear,” he said. “Patrick’s daughter.”
“Don’t.”
His smile widened.
“Same temper.”
“You knew him?”
“Very well.”
Rowan’s voice hardened.
“Enough.”
Victor sat.
“Your father was a decent man, Mave.”
“You killed him.”
“No.”
“You ordered it.”
Victor poured wine.
“Your father made a choice.”
“To expose you.”
“To interfere.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“To men like us, it often is.”
Mave looked at Rowan.
“Men like you?”
Victor smiled.
Rowan did not.
“There is no us.”
Victor’s expression changed.
“Careful, nephew.”
“I’ve spent half my life cleaning your mess.”
“You’ve spent half your life enjoying the empire I helped build.”
“Not anymore.”
Victor laughed.
“What are you going to do? Go legitimate?”
“Yes.”
That surprised everyone.
Including Mave.
Victor stopped smiling.
“You can’t.”
“Watch me.”
“You think banks and politicians respect Rowan Mercer because you own hotels?”
“No.”
“They respect you because they fear what happens if they don’t.”
Rowan leaned forward.
“Then maybe they should stop fearing me.”
Mave looked at him.
Something was happening.
Not simply revenge.
Choice.
Victor saw it too.
“This girl did this?”
“No.”
Rowan’s answer came immediately.
“She reminded me I had a choice.”
Mave’s heartbeat changed.
Victor looked disgusted.
“Your father would be ashamed.”
“My father died trying to expose you.”
Silence.
Victor’s glass stopped halfway to his mouth.
There.
Confirmation.
Rowan saw it.
“So you did kill him.”
Victor realized his mistake.
Too late.
Mave reached into her coat.
Victor’s guards moved.
She pulled out a phone.
Recording.
Victor smiled.
“You think that matters?”
“No.”
She tapped the screen.
“But the livestream might.”
His expression changed.
Khloe was watching from a secure account.
So was Rowan’s attorney.
So was a federal investigator Ethan Blake, an old friend of Rowan’s father.
Victor stood.
“You stupid girl.”
Rowan moved between them.
Victor shouted.
The room exploded.
Guards reached for weapons.
Rowan’s men entered.
Mave dropped behind the table.
Someone fired.
Glass shattered.
Victor ran.
Rowan followed.
Mave did something incredibly stupid.
She followed Rowan.
They reached the rear courtyard.
Victor stood beside a waiting car.
He held a gun.
Pointed at Rowan.
“Stop.”
Rowan stopped.
Mave remained behind a stone column.
Victor’s hand shook.
“You could have had everything.”
“I already do.”
Victor laughed.
“You think she loves you?”
Rowan’s face changed.
Mave stopped breathing.
Victor continued.
“She’s using you because she’s scared.”
Rowan said nothing.
“She kissed you for fifty dollars.”
“Yes.”
“She’d never have looked at you twice otherwise.”
Rowan’s jaw tightened.
“Probably not.”
Mave wanted to object.
But he was right.
Then Rowan said, “That might be the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Her heart stopped.
Victor raised the gun.
Mave stepped out.
“Hey!”
Victor turned.
That was enough.
Rowan moved.
The gun fired.
Mave screamed.
Rowan hit Victor.
Both men went down.
Security swarmed them.
Victor was restrained.
Rowan remained on the ground.
Blood spread across his shirt.
Mave ran.
“No.”
She dropped beside him.
“No, no, no.”
Rowan looked down.
The bullet had struck his shoulder.
“Not fatal.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know where my heart is.”
“You barely know how coffee works.”
His mouth moved.
“Mave.”
“What?”
“You’re crying.”
“I’m furious.”
“That isn’t mutually exclusive.”
She pressed her hand against the wound.
“Stay awake.”
“I’m awake.”
“You are not allowed to die.”
“Is that an order?”
“Yes.”
“Interesting.”
“Rowan!”
He smiled.
Then lost consciousness.
He survived.
The bullet missed everything important.
Victor was arrested.
The livestream triggered investigations into Mercer Industries.
Police reopened Patrick Sullivan’s death.
They also reopened Alexander Mercer’s.
Within weeks, evidence connected Victor to both.
Mave expected relief.
Instead, Rowan disappeared from her life.
No calls.
No black car.
No strange espresso.
Nothing.
Three weeks passed.
Mave was helping clean the burned bakery when Khloe finally said, “You’re miserable.”
“I’m unemployed.”
“You’re miserable because Murder Batman ghosted you.”
“Please never call him that again.”
“You like him.”
“No.”
“You kissed him twice.”
“The first one was financially motivated.”
“The second?”
Mave stopped sweeping.
Yes.
There had been a second kiss.
At the hospital.
After Rowan woke.
He had looked at her and said, “You stayed.”
She had answered by kissing him.
No dare.
No money.
No audience.
Then he disappeared.
Mave threw the broom down.
“I’m going to kill him.”
Khloe smiled.
“There she is.”
Mave went to Mercer Tower.
Nobody stopped her.
That annoyed her more.
She reached Rowan’s office.
He stood by the windows.
His arm remained in a sling.
He turned.
“Mave.”
She slapped a paper bag onto his desk.
“What is this?”
“Croissant.”
He blinked.
“You came here to bring me pastry?”
“No. I came to yell. I brought food because yelling makes me hungry.”
He looked at the bag.
Then her.
“I thought staying away was best.”
“For whom?”
“You.”
“Wrong answer.”
“Mave.”
“You don’t get to decide.”
“I’m dangerous.”
“So is driving. I still use cars.”
“My world burned your bakery.”
“Victor burned my bakery.”
“My name—”
“Is not you.”
Silence.
Rowan looked away.
She understood.
He was afraid.
Not of bullets.
Of her.
Of wanting something he could lose.
“You think disappearing protects me.”
“Yes.”
“It doesn’t.”
“What do you want?”
Mave stepped closer.
“The truth.”
He looked at her.
“Fine.”
His voice dropped.
“I think about you constantly.”
Her breath caught.
“I think about you putting milk in my coffee.”
“Correctly.”
“I think about you arguing with armed men.”
“Also correctly.”
“I think about that first ridiculous kiss.”
She smiled.
“And?”
“I think if I let myself want you, someone will eventually use you against me.”
Mave’s smile disappeared.
“So change your life.”
His eyes sharpened.
“What?”
“You said you wanted to go legitimate.”
“That takes time.”
“I have time.”
“Mave.”
“I’m not asking you to become harmless.”
She stepped closer.
“I’m asking whether you actually want to become different.”
Rowan stared at her.
“Yes.”
“Then do it.”
“And you?”
“What about me?”
“Where do you fit?”
She looked at him.
“I don’t know yet.”
That was honest.
He nodded.
Then she reached up.
Touched his face.
Rowan’s eyes closed.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked.
Mave smiled.
“Look at you learning manners.”
“Mave.”
“Yes.”
He kissed her.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Nothing like the first time.
When they separated, Rowan rested his forehead against hers.
Then someone knocked.
His attorney entered.
“Sorry.”
He was not sorry.
“We have a problem.”
Rowan stepped away.
“What?”
“Victor made a deal.”
“What kind?”
“He gave federal prosecutors evidence.”
“Against whom?”
The attorney looked at Rowan.
“You.”
Mave’s stomach dropped.
May you like
“What evidence?”
“Enough to put Rowan away for the rest of his life.”
