FOUR - Alana

FOUR

Alana

My five-inch stilettos stick to the floor as Ella, Rosalie, and I converge in a back corner of Martini Money, which can only be described as one of the cheesiest bars in Palo Alto. The clientele is a combination of wealthy startup owners and underage girls. The music is thick and throbbing, the booth hard and bright, and the alcohol expensive.

"I cannot believe he wants to meet you here," Ella says, her eyes carefully hidden behind thick glasses and her figure under what could only be considered a potato sack. Sometimes I feel as if she's taking her need to stay under the radar a little too seriously, but then again, considering my family is trying to force me into marriage with somebody I don't know, perhaps she has the right idea.

Rosalie snorts. "What are you worried about? Why don't you just go give the youngest Sokolov brother a good ride? Aren't you tired of not getting any?"

I roll my eyes. It's an old argument and one I don't have the patience for right now. "Why would I do that?"

"Yeah," Ella chimes in. "Alana wants true love, not a ride on a dick of a . . . dick." She chuckles.

Rosalie sighs. "It's so much fun to talk about sex with the two of you."

Ella gulps her martini, her eyes wide. "I still think this is a bad idea," she says. "We can get you out of the country within an hour."

"I honestly don't think there is a place on earth my father can't find me. I have a better idea than running away." I stir the olive in my gin martini glass.

Rosalie tips back the rest of her drink. "You think you're going to talk Cal Sokolov out of marrying you?"

I have no plans to marry him, yet we can help each other. "Yes. He likes his single life." The guy has more escapades on social media than do I. "If we combine forces, we can strengthen both platforms. Our families will just have to stand down on this."

"What?" Rosalie asks. "Stand down? Have either of your families ever stood down?"

I don't know the answer to that question, so why respond?

Rosalie looks over her shoulder at the VIP area, where red velvet couches and faceted mirrors decorate the area. "We have to figure out a way you don't have to marry that himbo."

"Himbo?" Ella laughs. She takes out her phone and scrolls through Cal's account on Hologrid Hub. She's the best hacker around, probably because she's traveled all over the world to train with legendary geniuses while staying under the radar of her stepmother and stepsisters. No doubt they tracked her, but hurting her would be too visible, so they haven't made a move yet. "All Cal really posts about is working out, getting laid, and driving cars." She winces. "He's definitely not the brains behind the business."

"No. That would be his older brother Hendrix." Rosalie exhales. "I've heard that guy is as evil as they come."

"Aren't there three brothers?" Ella motions for another drink.

I motion as well, wanting a nice buzz before I head into the VIP area. "I remember there being another brother."

"What's his name?" Ella taps her chin.

Rosalie smiles as the waiter places three more drinks in front of us. "Alexei."

"That's right. I'd nearly forgotten. Alexei is in prison." Ella looks up, her eyes cloudy behind the glasses. "He brutally murdered the husband of his lover. Remember? The story dominated the news for weeks."

I shiver. "I do remember." Every news outlet had shown his hard and furious face. The last thing I need is to end up in a family that thinks adultery excuses murder. Not that I'd commit either, to be honest. "I'm surprised his family didn't make it all go away."

"There were too many witnesses," Rosalie murmurs. "Money doesn't always buy everyone off."

I pat her hand. My friend has the kindest heart in the world, even when she's encouraging me to ride men like horses. She's an attorney who's as ambitious they come. "Sometimes the right things actually happen in life."

"I know," Rosalie says, staring at me. "You aren't really going to marry this guy, are you?"

I bite my lip. "No. I'm not. At least I don't think I am."

Ella shakes her head. "You're pale, Alana. Did you get any sleep last night?"

"No." I'm a terrible liar, so I don't bother with my friends.

"Nightmares?" Rosalie asks, losing the teasing glint in her eye.

I try to banish the images from my mind. "Yes."

Ella sighs. "Maybe we should try hypnotism again. You need to access those memories to get over this."

"They might not be memories. I could've just seen a scary movie too young," I whisper, even though I have tried to banish the images several times.

Rosalie glances at Ella and then looks at me. "The key is in your phobia."

I lift a hand. "I don't have a phobia." At least not one recognized by any medical establishment.

"Yes, you do," Ella says gently. "It's called a specific phobia, and you know it."

What I know is that I don't want to endure "exposure therapy" again, even if that is one way to deal with a phobia. Mine is weird. It's an aversion to the argyle pattern, especially in windows. "Listen. This only happens during times of extreme stress, and I'm still grieving for my brother."

"Hi, ladies." Nico suddenly comes into view and reaches our table before I can continue my denial.

I lean back, grateful he's saving me from another discussion about my nightmares. "Nico, it's nice to see you. What are you doing in this place?" The corny tavern with the bright lights and beer-crusted floor is the last place I'd expect to find my elegant cousin.

He sneers at the sticky floor and then nods to both Rosalie and Ella. "I feel bad about how the board meeting went." He stares into my eyes. "I promised Greg a long time ago if anything happened to him that I would protect you."

At the mention of my brother's name, my body goes cold. Then hope unfurls in my chest like a freshly watered flower. My brother was ten years older than me, but there were times we played together like kids. He was my sounding board for most of my life, and even after he turned all serious with the business, he was still easier to approach than our father. "He asked you that?"

"Yes," Nico says. "I know that he turned hard, but Greg always cared about you and wanted you to have a good life. He was more than willing to take over the company so you wouldn't have to be anywhere near it. Not that you haven't helped and done an excellent job as an influencer," he hastens to add.

"Thank you, Nico," I say, warming again. Somehow it helps to know that Greg cared. "I'm all right with whatever I have to do for the family." But marrying a man I don't know? How does that make sense for me?

Ella shifts to the side. "Have a seat, Nico."

He pats her shoulder, and she beams. "Thanks, El."

El? Interesting. They make a lovely couple, actually. "Sit with us, Nico," I urge. "We can figure this out. I'm sure of it."

Nico sighs. "You've grown up nicely, Alana, and you definitely have a brain. A good one. I understand your commitment and agree if you and I work together, we can convince your father there's another way. I just don't know what it is."

"I'll figure something out," I say, noting both of my friends watching my handsome cousin, who's still standing close to Ella. "Would you like to have a drink with us?"

He glances at the aquamarine-studded watch that matches the ring on his index finger. "No. I'm wanted back at headquarters. We're trying to hack into Malice Media this week."

My ears heat. "Seriously, you think you can hack Malice?"

"We're trying." Nico reads the screen of his phone and tucks it away in his jacket. "If we can just get our hands on their AI interface technology, we could finally take that bastard down."

"Have you ever met him?" Ella asks, leaning forward.

Nico turns to her, his gaze appraising. "I don't know anybody who has met Thorn Beathach. Sometimes we wonder if he exists."

"Oh, he exists," Ella says. "I've tracked him enough through the web to know that he's a real person, a deadly one."

Nico shifts his weight, and emotion darkens his handsome face. "Don't track Beathach on the web. He'll know, and he'll kill you. Ella, be smart."

Ella's chin lifts. "I can cover my tracks."

Yeah. You go, girl. Even so, unease tempers my pride in her. "Why do you say he's deadly?"

She shrugs. "Any time there's a mention of him, it's either retracted, deleted, or the person posting it disappears. Accidents, you know?"

Right. Accidents that are anything but. Perhaps I should combine Aquarius's resources with Hologrid Hub's, if for no other reason than to counter the evil obvious in Malice Media. Seriously. The name itself shows Thorn isn't trying to hide his agenda. For me, it's like a red flag waved in front of a bull. Come and get me, he whispers.

Ella swallows. "I don't think any of us want to make an enemy out of Thorn Beathach."

Nico appraises her, his gaze warm. "I agree, although I'm sure we're all on his radar already." He looks over his shoulder as if afraid somebody is listening.

"What is it?" My instincts start to hum.

"I just want you to be careful. All right? We have two guys on you here in the bar, and I'm sure Sokolov will have protection as well."

"I'm not in danger," I say. Sure, I often get the odd fan from Aquarius Social who thinks they're in love with me, but they're normally dissuaded easily.

"That's not what I mean." Nico's dark eyes flash. "Greg is already dead and you're the heir."

That might be true, but there's always another heir. "If something happens to me, then you can be the heir. You're probably next in line," I say gently.

He shakes his head. "No, I'm not. I don't have the power or the connection with the crystals that you do. If anything happens to you, your father would be left without an heir—I mean for now."

Ella cocks her head. "What do you mean ‘for now'?"

Crimson spreads across Nico's handsome face. "Nothing. Forget it."

I set my martini glass down on the chipped table. "Forget it? What do you mean? Is my dad trying to make new heirs?" He is ancient. Would he really do that? My stomach sinks as I realize that he would.

Nico steps back from the table. "I've said too much, but be careful. I don't want what happened to Greg to happen to you." His shoulders go back. "There were cameras along the route he took that night before crashing off Vulture's Perch, and they're all burned out. Destroyed. It's too suspicious."

Rosalie looks at me and then looks over at Nico. "Greg was in a car accident."

Nico visibly gulps. "Bullshit. He was an excellent driver, and he was sober that night. Just watch your back." He glances again at Ella. "All of you. Be careful." With that, he shoves his hands in his pockets and storms through the crowded bodies to the door.