Chapter 26

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

W hen I padded out to the living room the following morning, the door to Jackson's room was open. I peeked my head inside, but I wasn't surprised to find it unoccupied. I knew he'd planned to go the gym and make some calls, so he'd asked some of the Huxley Grand security team to stand guard in the hall outside. The curtains fluttered, beckoning me to where Greer was sitting in a fluffy white robe. She sipped her coffee and peered out at the ocean.

I hadn't had a chance to talk to Greer alone since Jackson and I had told her about our relationship, and I'd wanted to give her some time to digest the news. I hoped she was still as supportive as she'd been last night. Though, I knew it might take her some time to adjust to the idea of us as a couple.

"Hey." I peeked my head out onto the balcony. "Can I join you?"

"Sure." She smiled.

"Did you sleep okay?"

"Best sleep I've had in months. The beds here are magical."

I laughed. "I'm glad to hear it. Jasper personally tested them out before we purchased them."

"I might have to ask him for the info."

"Just go on the Huxley Grand website," I said. "There's a whole store where we sell sheets, towels, the mattress. Pretty much anything you like can be purchased."

"That's new, right?"

"We had so many requests for information on the pillows, the mattresses, the candles, whatever, that we decided to start selling them. Graham was opposed at first because he worried it would dilute the luxury aspect of the brand. But I thought everyone should be able to take home a little of that luxury to their ordinary life. And Jasper argued that it would remind people of their positive experience and make them want to come back." I was rambling, but I was nervous.

"I could definitely use a little luxury in my ordinary life." Greer wore a forlorn expression.

I crossed my legs. "What's going on with you and Logan?"

She stared out at the water and said nothing. But I knew Greer well enough to know that she'd feel better if she talked.

"Come on." I nudged her foot with mine. "Talk to me."

She took a deep breath, and my heart rate accelerated. "Logan and I are getting a divorce."

"What?" I jerked my head back. When she turned to look at me, her expression was full of sadness, and my heart ached for my best friend. "Oh, Greer." I went over and wrapped my arms around her.

Divorce? She and Logan had always been so happy together. At least, that had been my impression. Sure, they had their ups and downs. What couple didn't? But on the whole, they loved each other. They had built a life, a family, together.

Greer started crying, and I hugged her close. "It's okay. I'm here. You can tell me about it when you're ready."

She sniffled, so I went to grab a box of tissues from the living room. I set them on the table then returned to my seat, holding her hand in mine.

"I can't do this anymore," Greer said. "I can't do everything ."

"It's difficult to feel like you're the one putting in all the work," I said. "A relationship takes two people."

"I know you get it. Edward was…" She swallowed. "Yeah. I'm glad you found happiness, even if it is with my brother," she teased.

"Thank you for saying that. I was so nervous to tell you."

"Sloan," she sighed. "You're my best friend, and I love you unconditionally. You'd have to do something truly heinous for me not to be able to move past it."

Which was why the fact that she was getting divorced was so surprising.

"Thank you," I said. "And ditto. So…" I paused, trying to find the best way to ask her what I really wanted to know. I sensed that she didn't want to talk about Logan, and I wasn't going to push—for now. Instead, I kept the conversation focused on Jackson and me, assuming she'd appreciate a distraction from her own drama. "You're okay with this? Truly?"

"If you're happy, I'm happy." She smiled. "And I can tell that you're really happy."

I finally felt myself relax. "Jackson is… He's everything to me."

She sipped her coffee then set her mug back on the table. "I'm curious. How did you move past all the hurt? Move past…the past?"

"It wasn't easy. Being trapped on a sailboat definitely helped." I laughed, and she joined in. "But it was more than that. It was Jackson's willingness to show up time and again. His actions, not his words."

"Acta non verba," Greer said with a wistful expression.

"Exactly."

Her expression changed, shifting to something more downcast. "That's my problem. I keep hoping and waiting for Logan to step up, but I'm done. I'm done trying to be the perfect mom and have the perfect home. I'm done trying to be the perfect wife to a husband who won't even stuff my stocking."

I started laughing. I couldn't help it. "Is that a euphemism?"

Greer joined me. "Oh my god. I didn't even…" She caught her breath. "But yes, that too."

We were quiet a moment. Then she ran a hand through her hair. "All joking aside, he just doesn't seem to care about anything anymore. At least, not anything that pertains to me." She slumped. "It's a really shitty feeling. Nearly fifteen years of marriage. Eighteen years together and now…" She shrugged, and I knew she was fighting back tears. Hell, I was.

"Now?" I prompted.

"I told him I wanted a divorce, and he said nothing. Nothing!" Her admission pained me. "Whatever." She scoffed.

She seemed so downtrodden, so discouraged, that I had to say something.

"It may not seem like it now," I said. "And it may take some time. But I'm confident you'll find happiness again." With or without Logan—though, I didn't say that.

She bit her lip as if to stem her tears. "I hope you're right."

I hugged her, holding her tight. "I know I am."

If Jackson and I could find our way back together after all these years, anything was possible.

A few days later, Jackson and I had dropped Greer at the airport and were headed back to the hotel. We'd had a really nice visit, and I'd loved spending time both just with Greer and with Jackson and Greer. It was such a relief that she knew about us. That she supported our relationship and seemed genuinely happy for us despite what was going on in her marriage. Part of me almost wished I'd told her sooner, but I was just glad it had all worked out in the end.

"One sibling down." I blew out a breath. "Four to go."

"Sloan," Jackson chided. "We told Greer, and it went great. Trust your family to be just as supportive."

Maybe he was right. Nate had been supportive when I'd spoken to him about it a few weeks ago. But still…

"Mm," I mused. "You don't know them. And they don't know you. I suppose Nate does, sort of. But I'm not sure that counts."

"Then let them get to know me. You're probably not going to like this idea, but we could cut our trip a little short to spend some time in LA with them."

I jerked my head back. "You'd give up sailing alone in paradise with me to spend time getting to know my family?"

"I'd love to say that's my only motivation, but it would mean my assignment would be over and…"

"We could finally have sex," I said, connecting the dots, growing excited at the prospect. "I like the way you think."

"Yeah?" He looked over at me and grinned.

"Yeah." So much passed between us in that brief unspoken moment before he returned his attention to the road.

"I'm happy to continue our trip, or cut it short and spend time with your family. But only if that's what you want," he said. "I want to be part of your life. I know how protective they are of you, and I want them to trust me. To realize how happy we are together."

I smiled, beyond happy. "I suppose if we went to LA, you could meet the board in person, and we could disclose our relationship," I said, cataloging the merits of the idea beyond just sex. Though, sex with Jackson in and of itself was more than enough motivation.

"Exactly." He smirked, inching his hand higher up my thigh.

He teased the edge of my panties and groaned. "God, Sloan. These past few weeks have been torture."

"I know," I gasped, wishing he'd touch me. "I thought I'd never want this trip to end, but strangely, I find myself eager to return home."

He chuckled. "So am I, hayati . So am I."

He slid his hand toward my knee, a safer distance from where I needed him. My body was still wound tight with tension, but I tried to focus on something else. "And if we went back to LA, we could spend time with Brooklyn."

Brooklyn made me think of Jackson's niece and nephew. About divorce and about Greer. I sighed and stared out the window. "Do you think Greer will be okay?"

"I hate seeing her so unhappy. I just don't get what's going on with Logan."

"Me either." He gave my thigh a quick squeeze before returning his hand to the steering wheel.

After we returned to the Huxley Grand, Jackson went for a workout. Hotel security was stationed outside in the hall. I ordered some room service for lunch then directed my attention to my inbox until there was a knock at the door.

"Room service."

I was in the middle of washing my hands, so I called out, "Come in."

The door opened, and a cart was rolled in, the gentle clanking of dishes accompanying it. When I entered the dining room, the woman turned. I tilted my head, studying her. She looked familiar, but I couldn't place her. At least, not until she started talking.

She pulled out a chair for me. "Sit down. Don't scream. Don't call for help. Or I will shoot." The words rang out in a posh English accent.

"Amelia." I didn't bother to hide my annoyance. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" I scanned the room for my phone, inching toward the coffee table where it was resting.

"Don't even think about it." She removed a gun from beneath one of the silver domes. "And it's Lady Amelia."

I sat down, considering my options. She had a gun with a silencer. And I knew she was a good shot. Hell, she had a silver medal to prove it.

"Hands on the table. I want to see them at all times."

I did as she asked. "What now, Amelia?" I intentionally didn't use her title just to piss her off.

She shoved my shoulder. "You will address me as Lady Amelia."

I said nothing, adrenaline pumping through me. I wondered what she wanted. How long she'd been planning this. If Edward was in on it.

And where the hell was security?

"What can I do for you, Lady Amelia?" I sneered. I needed to keep her talking until I could devise a plan.

"I want you to transfer fifty million dollars into this bank account." She slid a piece of paper in front of me. It contained the number of an offshore account.

I scoffed. "And why would I do that?"

She moved to stand before me. "Because if you don't wire the money within the next twenty-four hours, I will release these…" She dropped a handful of photos on the table, and a few cascaded to the floor.

My eyes widened at an image of Jackson sitting on the edge of the hot tub in Turks and Caicos, naked. Another of my front, the sheer material of the swimsuit leaving nothing to the imagination. Another of us touching. Kissing.

"What the hell?" Someone had been watching us? Photographing us? I clenched my fists. "You have no right…"

She threw down another—a blurry photograph of us in the outdoor shower, though it was clear what we were doing.

"Shall I keep going?" She tossed a few more on the table.

Photographs of him shirtless and straddling me. Others of us dry humping. I covered my mouth with my hand. Jesus.

I wanted to cover them all. Remove them from her view. These were our private moments.

"Mm." She scanned the photos, and my blood boiled. "He's hot. I get why you'd want to fuck your bodyguard."

I gnashed my teeth. There was so much wrong with that statement, but I figured she was trying to bait me. I needed to rely on my logic, not emotions, if I was going to survive this. "Did Edward put you up to this?"

She cackled. "Put me up to this. That's cute." She shook her head and paced, waving the gun in the air. I needed to find a way to disarm her. Maybe if I kept her talking, she'd get distracted.

"No," she continued. "He was definitely in on it, but this was my idea."

I tried not to show that her words stung. In on it, how? What did that mean?

Instead, I asked, "Because of your family's money troubles?"

Amelia's eyes flashed with shock that barely registered, before it was replaced by the mask of cold indifference I'd grown to expect from her.

"My father is an incompetent fool. I should be the one running the family business." She jabbed her chest, her fire returning. "Me. Not him. Not when he's running it into the ground."

"So, why aren't you?"

"Because my family is old-fashioned. And my father has always seen Edward as his successor and heir."

"That's bullshit," I said, and I meant it. My grandparents had always made me feel just as capable of taking on the role of managing the family business as any of my brothers.

"Right?" She sank down into the chair across from me with a sigh. "Which is why I'm going to save us from ruin. Then Father will realize that I'm the one who should be at the helm. And Edward will finally be free to pursue his passion."

I felt sick to my stomach. Her plan was flawed, but I wasn't going to point that out to her. At least now I knew what she wanted the money for.

"And how will you explain such a large infusion of cash?"

"My father knows I'm good at networking. I will simply say it came from a Chinese investor."

"Clearly, you've thought it all out."

"I have." I wanted to slap the smug look off her face. "And now it's time to hand over the money."

"Ah." I leaned back in my chair, feigning a nonchalance I didn't feel. "But you see, any transaction over five million requires the approval of a majority of the Huxley board."

She flinched at that. She hadn't expected it. "You're lying."

I shook my head, trying to project a calm demeanor even though I was sweating bullets. I had no idea when Jackson was going to return, and I didn't want him—or anyone else—to walk in and startle Amelia. I got the feeling she was in the mood to shoot first and ask questions later.

Her breathing quickened. "You're a billionaire. Surely you have private accounts."

"Everything is held in trust. If you'd like me to make a call…"

She trained the gun on me once more with a menacing expression. "I know what you're trying to do, and I'm not going to fall for it. Give me the money, or I'll release the photos."

I swallowed hard, trying not to let her see my fear. Those photos could never get out. There would be no more hiding the fact that Jackson had broken the rules. He'd lose everything.

And what would my family think? What would Brooklyn think? My stomach churned with unease.

"And if I pay you," I said, deciding to let her think I was playing her game. No way in hell was I letting her walk out of here with the money or the photos. "You'd give me all the photos and erase all digital copies on any device where they're stored."

She rolled her eyes. "Once the money is in my account, yes."

"I want your assurance that you won't come back to me for more money later."

"Yes, but as you said, you can't access that sum."

"I—" I tapped a finger to my lips, testing her resolve to keep my hands on the table. She said nothing. "Not from the Huxley corporation. But there might be another way."

She leaned forward, a gleam in her eye. "What is it?"

I stood, pressing my advantage further. Amelia was so intent on the money, she didn't care that I was standing. Even better, she wasn't stopping me.

I inched closer, preparing to disarm her, when the electronic lock on the door beeped. Shit!

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. I was so focused on the door and warning Jackson that Amelia was able to pull me toward her, pressing the gun to my temple.

The door to the suite opened. Jackson stood there, wiping sweat from his forehead. The door closed behind him.

"Sloan, I—" He stopped short. Glanced at Amelia, the gun, my face. His eyes connected with mine, silently asking if I was okay.

I pressed my lips together and gave the briefest of nods. If only I'd listened to him when he'd tried to warn me about Edward in Turks and Caicos.

"Sit down. Hands on the table," Amelia hissed.

"Let's just calm down," Jackson said, stepping closer to me, trying to put himself between us. "Put away the gun. And talk rationally."

"No," Amelia spat. "I'm done waiting. Sit or I'll shoot her."

Jackson sat, his expression eerily calm.

"What's your plan, Sloan?" Amelia asked, her eyes wild. "How are you going to get me my money?"

"I—" I needed a plan and quick. Think fast, Sloan. "I need to talk to my brother."

"No. Absolutely not."

"He's the CEO. If he and I agree to transfer the money, we can get you the sum you asked for." I was lying, but she didn't know that. I tried to remain calm.

She shifted. "Fine. Do it. Do it!" she practically yelled.

She turned the gun on Jackson, and my heart rate ratcheted up. No! That wasn't supposed to happen.

I went over to the table where my phone was resting. I picked it up with shaking hands, then met Jackson's eyes, hoping he would realize that I was about to cause a distraction.

"Hurry up!" Amelia commanded, swinging her gun back to me.

Jackson held my gaze. I wanted to defend him, protect him, but I knew I needed to put my faith in him. This was what he was trained to do.

I turned and dropped the phone. When I crouched to the floor, I heard the sounds of a struggle. The gun went off and Amelia screamed, or maybe that was me.

I popped back up, terrified that he'd been shot. I moved closer, ready to help him. But Jackson had already wrestled her to the floor. Her cheek was pressed to the carpet, and he tossed the gun aside.

"You okay?" he asked me.

I nodded, searching him for any sign of injury. My heart felt as if it would pound out of my chest. "I am. Are you?"

"Yes," he said through gritted teeth, hauling Amelia to a standing position.

"Let. Me. Go." Amelia struggled against his hold. It was laughable, really. There was no way she would be able to escape. Jackson would never allow it.

"Not a fucking chance. You're lucky I don't shoot you right now and make it look like an accident."

Her eyes widened, perhaps sensing that wasn't an idle threat.

He glared at her. "Apparently your brother didn't take my message to heart."

I realized he must have seen Amelia in my Hudson Security dossier and recognized her. Impressive.

"What message?" Amelia's voice trembled with fear.

He leaned forward, getting in her face. "No one threatens the woman I love and gets away with it."

Oh shit. Why was that so hot?

"Is he here?" Jackson glanced around, tightening his hold to the point that she winced. "Is your piece-of-shit brother here?"

Amelia shook her head. "No." She looked close to tears, her bravado gone. "No. We knew it would be too suspicious if he showed up again."

"Again?" I frowned, and then understanding dawned on me. "The proposal."

"Yes." She rolled her eyes. "The proposal. If you'd agreed to marry him, all of this unpleasantness could've been avoided."

I blinked a few times, positive I'd misheard her. She was clearly delusional on so many levels. It made me even more grateful that I'd ended things with Edward when I had.

I supposed I shouldn't have been surprised to learn that he'd never loved me. But if anything, it made sense. It was still disappointing to think that he'd only wanted me for my money, but it didn't hurt as badly as it should've. Because I'd never loved him.

"There are some zip ties in my bag," Jackson said to me. "Do you think you can grab them?"

I nodded. I went to his bag and pulled them out, watching as he restrained Amelia. He picked up the gun and removed the clip before collecting all the photos from the table and depositing them in his bag.

We stepped into the kitchen, keeping an eye on Amelia the entire time. "What are you going to do now?" I asked, keeping my voice low.

He pulled out his phone. "I'm going to call Vaughn. He'll send in a team to handle this."

"Shouldn't we call the police?"

"Not if we want everyone to see those photos." He gave me a pointed look. Neither of us wanted that. He was right. It was best to handle this matter quickly and quietly.

"What will happen to her?" I asked.

"What do you want to happen?"

My muscles still quivered, whether from adrenaline or rage, I wasn't sure. "I want answers."

He gestured toward the dining table. "Ask her."

While Jackson spoke to Vaughn in hushed tones, I went over to Amelia. "Was Edward behind the threats?"

"No," she scoffed. "But when he told me about them, I saw an opportunity."

"What kind of opportunity?"

"I told him to use the threats to motivate you to move in with him. To marry him."

I thought back on my interactions with Edward. He'd been pressuring me to move in with him, arguing that I'd be safer. All the while, he'd been trying to manipulate me into doing what he and his sister had wanted. Just so they could get their hands on my money.

Unbelievable.

Then to propose… I understood the desire to save his company. His family's legacy. But…had he ever cared about me?

I didn't realize I'd said the last part aloud until Amelia said, "Aw." She pouted. "You actually thought he cared about you?" She shook her head, but she didn't look at all remorseful. "I hate to break it to you, but we targeted you. He was playing you the whole time."

I'd had enough. Whether it was true or not, it didn't matter. Edward was no longer part of my life. I turned my back on her, keeping an eye on her reflection in the window.

Jackson went to the door and opened it, and a group of three men and a woman streamed in. Damn, that was fast.

"Blackjack."

"Thanks for coming so quickly. There's the trash that needs to be disposed of." He gestured toward Amelia.

Her eyes went wide. "What does that mean? What are you going to do to me?" One of the guys latched on to her arm and pulled her to a standing position. "Where are you taking me?"

"Come on." They tugged her toward the door.

As they were leaving, one of the Huxley Grand security officers ran inside. "Is everything okay?"

I crossed my arms over my chest. "It is now."

Yet again, my own security team had disappointed me. The problem was bigger than I'd realized, and it made me even more grateful that we'd hired Jackson as our chief of security.

"I'm so sorry, Ms. Mackenzie," he said, wide-eyed. "We know that you like to get to know your employees. We just assumed…"

"You assumed incorrectly." The adrenaline was fading, and I couldn't maintain this fa?ade much longer.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I didn't recognize her, but she was wearing the uniform. I did question her, but she said she was new."

"We will discuss this later," Jackson bit out, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Yes, sir. Of course." The security guard backed out of the room.

As soon as the door closed, I sagged. It was as if everything hit me at once. The blackmail. The gun. My fear for Jackson.

He caught me before I could fall to the floor. He scooped me up and carried me to the bed.

"Are you hurt?" He scanned my face, my body, with fear in his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I'm…" I closed my eyes, but I saw an image of the bullet hitting Jackson. I opened them to block out the picture, but I started crying instead, unable to shake it. "I was terrified she was going to shoot you."

"Me?" He placed my hand over my heart. "Sloan, baby. You did so well. You were so brave. And you gave me the perfect opening. I'm okay." He kissed me. "We're both okay."

I nodded even as tears streamed down my cheeks. "I know." I was so choked up, I could barely speak. "I know."

He pulled me to him, holding me close. Letting me hear the reassuring cadence of his heartbeat. He was alive. We were okay.

"I'm so sorry. I should've had another bodyguard come from Hudson, but your threat level had been downgraded after Sheldon was caught."

"It's not your fault, Jackson," I said to his chest, soaking his shirt with my tears. "I wish I'd listened to you and my brothers. You were right about Edward. About everything."

He sighed, brushing a hand over my hair. "I don't want to be right. I just want you to be safe. And once I'm chief of security, I can assure you that shit like this will never happen again."

He held me tight, giving me the time and space I needed.

After a while, I'd calmed down and the tears had stopped. "What will happen to her?"

"The team might scare her a little. Give her a taste of her own medicine. But then they'll turn her in to the authorities. Her dickhead brother too. And we'll make sure all copies—digital or physical—of the photos are destroyed."

"I'm—" I opened my mouth. Closed it. Opened it once more. "I don't even know what to say."

Deep down, I'd always known I didn't belong with Edward. I only wished I'd trusted my gut sooner, that I hadn't been so stubborn.

"You don't have to say anything." He brushed my hair aside. "It's over now. I promise. The only thing that would devastate me is the thought of losing you."

Surprisingly, I believed him. Because I trusted in my ability to protect myself. And I trusted that Jackson would never let anything happen to me.