Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67675 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67675 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
My mother and Robert exchanged glances, and I saw I was right. My mother’s glance said to Robert that I must be told everything. His disagreed. I wasn’t to be worried. I knotted my fingers into fists. I knew how this would go. My mother would tell me what was going on in heightened, dramatic fashion. Robert would be right behind her, scaling it down and minimizing it. I would be stuck trying to figure out where the truth really fell between these two poles.
“Tell me,” I demanded.
“I’m afraid our life is in danger,” my mother began in a predictably quavering voice. She really should have been an actress. She had a flair for the dramatic. Emma was so used to her high, trembling voice that she didn’t even look up from her tablet.
“What Elyna means is that we have reason to be concerned,” Robert said.
I looked from the man on the door to my mom, still holding the edge of the curtain. “How much reason?”
The answer to that question fell somewhere between we needed to join the witness protection program and we just needed to double check our locks at night. What they both agreed on, though, was that they wanted to hire personal protection officers for the family again.
I hadn’t liked that the first time, and I really didn’t like the idea of having a bodyguard on Emma. Maybe when she was younger, but now she was old enough to ask questions. She shouldn’t grow up like that, thinking she needed an armed guard to stand between her and the world.
“She shouldn’t grow up chained to a radiator in a strange man’s basement either,” my mother said in response.
Emma looked up at this. Her dark eyes found mine, questioning them silently.
“Elyna,” Robert reproved.
“It’s nothing, baby.” I moved to the couch, smoothed her hair back off her forehead, and planted a kiss on it. “Gram Gram is kidding.”
“Gram Gram is not—,” Mom began, but Robert’s and my twin glares silenced her. Her mouth thinned and her fingers twitched, undoubtedly wishing for a cigarette.
“How can we even afford security like that anyway?” I asked. “I thought all our assets had been seized.”
My mother and Robert glanced toward the man on the door who stared inscrutably ahead, pretending to be mute. Robert nodded his head toward the bedroom, and after telling Emma we’d be right back, we moved into it.
“Most of them have been,” Robert said quietly, shutting the door behind him. “We’ve been careful over the years to secure a nest egg offshore.”
“Is that legal?”
“It’s a gray area.”
That meant no, but Robert was fairly certain they could get away with it.
I bit my lip. “How big of a nest egg?”
“Only a few million, but it’ll be enough to get us started on a new life once the media attention dies down.”
“Less than ten,” Mom added, aggrieved.
“Don’t forget the artwork,” Robert reminded her, and she looked somewhat mollified.
A few million, plus a Renoir or two. More than enough to cover the Naturopath program I was applying to. I walked to the window and stared out at the pool, wrestling with myself. What was worse—to continue to eat at my parent’s table and pay its hidden costs, or to indebt myself to Landon?
I didn’t know what that would cost me, but I couldn’t go back to my parents. For one thing, they’d done enough. For another, even if they got what the Renoirs were worth, there was no guarantee the government wouldn’t catch on and come for it. And a small part of me wondered if maybe that wasn’t what should happen. Knowingly or not, Lavigne Beauty had bankrupted hundreds of consultants. I’d heard that dozens of those women had become the sole earners for their families when the business was good, having “retired” their husbands. Dozens of others had been single parents to begin with. Other women had gone into debt, believing their company mentors when they said it would be worth it in the end.
On one hand, I agreed with my parents that the consultants were just as culpable—they’d chosen to invest their life savings and quit jobs after all. On the other hand…I wasn’t sure. Had the company misled them? Had the idea of “retiring” their husbands been a trap to keep them tied to the company? Had the product been inferior? Had my parents known?
I couldn’t believe they had, not really. But the idea of being connected to their gray-area money in any way gave me a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. I wasn’t going to judge them for hiding some away, but I wasn’t going to take advantage of it either. Whatever it cost me, I was indenturing myself to Landon instead.
Landon.
He would have to be told what was happening since it involved Emma. Considering how overprotective he’d been at the playground, I dreaded his reaction. My parents’ idea of putting a bodyguard on her might look moderate compared to what he would want to do.