48. Owed Power

Dom didn’t wake when I wheeled my suitcase out of his room and waited in the lobby for Derek to come and pick me up.

Within a minute of getting in his car, D had pulled over due to my begs and, in some random car park, got out his tablet to take me through the accounts. There, in black and white, was Bristow Buildings.

The Belovs.

And, that night, the only member of that family who was capable had turned off our security cameras.

That wasn’t a coincidence.

Friendship and loyalty meant nothing to them.

Love meant nothing to them.

But those businesses did. The money, the power.

Your dad and I always said the lines would join properly eventually. He’d be so happy, Leo.

Manipulation for the businesses. Everything had been manipulation.

I wouldn’t be a ‘real Belov’, I would be used to get the rest of the Castillo empire. The few things still in my name. Over the last couple of years, they had tried to take and liquify more businesses, even selling Tillo Tower, my dad’s pride and joy of a hotel.

The tablet trembled in my hand as Derek rubbed my back and spoke in reassuring tones. I didn’t hear what he said, but I appreciated it. Especially when I shoved the tablet into his hand and sobbed into his chest.

Last night, Dom had the opportunity to tell me everything. He hadn’t. He had sworn on my life that he had no involvement.

But his dad had killed mine.

And, even then, I knew that I had to get away. He’d tricked me once, I was clearly lovesick enough to fall for it. And him.

Derek took me to a hotel on the shore, where I changed and showered in a numb, emotionless state. He waited in the car and helped me pack my suitcase in the boot. “Back to mine? Or to Osburn?” he asked as the boot came down.

“The Belovs’.”

He looked at me with a stern expression. “No, Leonie. I am not taking you there. Not right now. You need to think this through, we need to think this through. If you go in all guns blazing—”

“I have a plan,” I told him, opening the passenger door and pulling on my seatbelt.

He joined me in his seat, but didn’t start the car. “Leonie—”

“If you’re about to go ahead and say Ivan didn’t do it, you can save your breath. He did or he knew about it. That man is far too invested in his accounts to not notice a quarter of a million slipping through the net and you know it.”

“But that doesn’t mean he ordered—”

“Start driving, I’ll explain on the way.”

He listened intently, driving slowly, taking the scenic route, but asking question after question to drag out our conversation. He could ask as many questions as he liked but I knew what I was doing. Nothing was going to stop me.

He pulled up at their drive, the guard at the security gate letting us through. It was 7 am by now and Ivan would have been drinking heavily last night. I wasn’t exactly in the mood to wait for him to wake up.

Their housemaid opened the door for me and ushered me into the kitchen with a smile. “Miss Castillo, welcome home.”

When I didn’t say anything, she continued, “I’ll wake Miss Belov—”

“No, I need Ivan.”

“Mr Belov is—”

“I don’t care. I’m sorry, but I don’t care,” I said, pouring myself a vodka from the cabinet. It might be the crack of dawn, but I deserved this. I needed this after the hour I had. “Tell him it’s important.”

And I placed my gun on the bar before taking a sip. It burned, but it wasn’t the cheap stuff like nail varnish remover I often downed. Ivan always had the good stuff.

Dom and Issy’s dad appeared, doing up his lightweight dressing gown as he came in barefoot. The hair he still had was wild and sticking out at odd angles, his eyes heavy with sleep.

He was so… normal. Him. The same man who had taken me to school every day after my dad’s death. The man who had protected me, paid for my rehab, hugged me like my dad would.

And yet, all I felt was a burning hatred that bubbled the marrow in my bones.

“God, Leo, what’s wrong?” he asked, reaching out to hold my hands. When his eyes caught the gun, he withdrew and looked up at me in panic. Thank god he didn’t touch me. “Are you okay? Is Dom?”

“We’re both fine,” I said with a nod. “I need to talk to you.”

With a concerned pinch of his lips, he picked up the vodka. “And I need this?”

“You might.” I inhaled deeply. “I want my share of Dad’s business. I’m ready.”

He blinked. “You’re… ready? At 7 am, you’re ready?”

I nodded. “I don’t know what Dom’s told you, but I’ve been ready for some time. My life isn’t what it was meant to be.”

He pulled me into a hug and I tried to contain my flinch, tried to not grab the gun and take the vengeance that was mine. “Oh, Leo. I have never been happier. You and Dom… now this. My god, your father would have been so proud of you.”

I swallowed the disgust down hard. Hopefully, he would think it was all the built-up emotion.

“The Belovs and Castillos — we knew there would be a marriage link between us at some point and now… now the two of you will finally make it happen!”

So he could take everything.

He pulled back with the largest grin and pressed his palm to my cheek. There was love in his gaze. I could have sworn it. But I knew nothing any more.

“Under one condition,” I continued, the serious tone of my voice making him take a step back, brows furrowed. “You tell Dom nothing about me. Where I am, what I’m doing.”

He went to speak, but I cut him off with a single finger raise. “Rocco can continue to follow me—no, don’t pretend. Issy and I are not stupid. Rocco can come with me. I’ll take twenty per cent of the men that followed my father that have since worked for you. I have their names here.” He took the piece of paper keenly, reading as I carried on with my demands. “I want the details of the last six months so I can see where we’ve been, where we’re going. I want everything.”

He didn’t look up from reading for a moment. “That’s Anton’s level of expertise. I’ll go and wake him shortly.”

Too keen. He was too keen for me to do this. There should be some pushback. There should be an ‘are you sure?’ or a ‘is now the right time?’ even a ‘this is sudden, Leonie!’ but there was nothing.

His brows lowered and he asked cautiously, “But why not tell Dominic?”

“He is not to know about this, Uncle Ivan,” I declared. My tongue tasted bitter calling him that. “Not one thing.”

“My son loves you. He has since—”

But I only shook my head.

“What has he done?” Ivan begged. “Whatever it is, I’m sure you can work through it.”

“I need some time away,” I admitted. “I just have to do something for me. I need to know that I can live this life before I commit to it with him. I don’t want to hurt him.”

Lies. All lies.

Because if I couldn’t have the love I desired, I’d have the power I was owed.