don’t need a babysitter, Declan.”
“Is that so?”
Narrowing my eyes, miffed, I respond, “Richard’s dead. What are you worried about?”
“When it comes to you . . . everything .”
I look to Lachlan and tell him, “No offense, but I don’t need you looking over my shoulder.”
“I agree with Declan on this one.”
“We’ll be living in one of the most secure buildings in the world,” I argue. “What could possibly happen?”
“What about Jacqueline?”
“Jacqueline? Richard’s wife?” I practically laugh. “She’s nothing. She’s a socialite. A housewife. A whore. A—”
“A widow,” Declan interrupts harshly. “She knows we killed her husband.”
“She doesn’t have it in her. She’s too weak.”
“I wouldn’t be so quick to underestimate. She’s lost everything, and now her baby has no father.”
“Richard wasn’t her baby’s father,” I reveal. “It’s Bennett’s child.”
Declan’s brows cinch together in question, and I explain, “He got her pregnant while I was married to him. I didn’t know until after he died. That bomb was laid on me when I went to have the will read. Bennett left the business assets to him.”
He quickly looks to Lachlan, saying, “Could you give us a minute?”
“Of course.”
Once Lachlan leaves the room, Declan continues, “You took his money?”
His accusing voice has a lick of judgment to it, sparking a tingle of rebellion from me.
“Yes,” I bite. “I took it.”
“How much?”
“Not as much as his bastard child got, but enough.”
His teeth grind before he presses further, stressing his words, “How much, Elizabeth?”
My hands grow tense when I think about the number, but I tell him the truth. “One point two.”
Declan releases a relieved sigh, and it’s then I realize he’s assuming fewer zeros, so I clarify, adding, “Billion.”
“Billion?” he blurts out.
“Yes, Declan. One point two billion. Surely you knew how wealthy he was. This shouldn’t come as a surprise. The only thing that was surprising was how little I got.”
My words are snappy, and it frustrates me to see his indignation.
“What?” I question with vexation. “Stop looking at me like that. If you want to say something, just say it.”
“You can’t take that money.”
“Why not? Do you have any idea the hell I went through to get it?”
“But why? For what purpose, really? Because unless you’ve left out some important detail, Bennett was, by all accounts, an innocent man.”
“Innocent?” I yell as heat creeps up my neck. “His lie took my father from me! His lie put me in that foster home! His lie raped me of the life I deserved!”
“He was a child, for Christ’s sake!”
“If you want to rationalize this, do it with someone else.”
“I saw the way he looked at you, Elizabeth.”
“Stop.” My voice is cold and hard and blatantly demanding.
“He loved you.”
“Stop.” I shake my head, blocking his words and refute, “He loved an illusion. He loved Nina , the woman who molded herself to be everything he ever wanted in a wife. It was a con, so don’t you make me feel guilty.”
“But the con is over.”
“It may be over, but my feelings about him haven’t changed.”
“I see that,” he finally concludes. “I understand your need to pin the blame for all this, it’s just . . . you’re blaming the wrong person.”
“What does it matter? He’s dead. It’s not like I can hurt him anymore even if I wanted to.”
His eyes are sternly focused on me when he repeats, “You can’t keep that money. I killed him; I don’t want that on my hands. You may not see this clearly for what it is, but that doesn’t mean I don’t.”
I shake my head, not wanting to lose everything my brother and I worked so hard for.
“It’s just money. Money you don’t need because you have me.”
“That’s not the point,” I tell him. “And besides that, how do you suggest getting rid of that amount of
“Is that so?”
Narrowing my eyes, miffed, I respond, “Richard’s dead. What are you worried about?”
“When it comes to you . . . everything .”
I look to Lachlan and tell him, “No offense, but I don’t need you looking over my shoulder.”
“I agree with Declan on this one.”
“We’ll be living in one of the most secure buildings in the world,” I argue. “What could possibly happen?”
“What about Jacqueline?”
“Jacqueline? Richard’s wife?” I practically laugh. “She’s nothing. She’s a socialite. A housewife. A whore. A—”
“A widow,” Declan interrupts harshly. “She knows we killed her husband.”
“She doesn’t have it in her. She’s too weak.”
“I wouldn’t be so quick to underestimate. She’s lost everything, and now her baby has no father.”
“Richard wasn’t her baby’s father,” I reveal. “It’s Bennett’s child.”
Declan’s brows cinch together in question, and I explain, “He got her pregnant while I was married to him. I didn’t know until after he died. That bomb was laid on me when I went to have the will read. Bennett left the business assets to him.”
He quickly looks to Lachlan, saying, “Could you give us a minute?”
“Of course.”
Once Lachlan leaves the room, Declan continues, “You took his money?”
His accusing voice has a lick of judgment to it, sparking a tingle of rebellion from me.
“Yes,” I bite. “I took it.”
“How much?”
“Not as much as his bastard child got, but enough.”
His teeth grind before he presses further, stressing his words, “How much, Elizabeth?”
My hands grow tense when I think about the number, but I tell him the truth. “One point two.”
Declan releases a relieved sigh, and it’s then I realize he’s assuming fewer zeros, so I clarify, adding, “Billion.”
“Billion?” he blurts out.
“Yes, Declan. One point two billion. Surely you knew how wealthy he was. This shouldn’t come as a surprise. The only thing that was surprising was how little I got.”
My words are snappy, and it frustrates me to see his indignation.
“What?” I question with vexation. “Stop looking at me like that. If you want to say something, just say it.”
“You can’t take that money.”
“Why not? Do you have any idea the hell I went through to get it?”
“But why? For what purpose, really? Because unless you’ve left out some important detail, Bennett was, by all accounts, an innocent man.”
“Innocent?” I yell as heat creeps up my neck. “His lie took my father from me! His lie put me in that foster home! His lie raped me of the life I deserved!”
“He was a child, for Christ’s sake!”
“If you want to rationalize this, do it with someone else.”
“I saw the way he looked at you, Elizabeth.”
“Stop.” My voice is cold and hard and blatantly demanding.
“He loved you.”
“Stop.” I shake my head, blocking his words and refute, “He loved an illusion. He loved Nina , the woman who molded herself to be everything he ever wanted in a wife. It was a con, so don’t you make me feel guilty.”
“But the con is over.”
“It may be over, but my feelings about him haven’t changed.”
“I see that,” he finally concludes. “I understand your need to pin the blame for all this, it’s just . . . you’re blaming the wrong person.”
“What does it matter? He’s dead. It’s not like I can hurt him anymore even if I wanted to.”
His eyes are sternly focused on me when he repeats, “You can’t keep that money. I killed him; I don’t want that on my hands. You may not see this clearly for what it is, but that doesn’t mean I don’t.”
I shake my head, not wanting to lose everything my brother and I worked so hard for.
“It’s just money. Money you don’t need because you have me.”
“That’s not the point,” I tell him. “And besides that, how do you suggest getting rid of that amount of
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