Chapter 254

ELLA

"You didn't have to threaten to destroy her entire family," I said.

"Yes, I did." Jack's hand found mine. "Nobody threatens you. Not her. Not anyone."

"She's just a spoiled rich girl."

"She had you surrounded by guards in an empty parking garage. That's not spoiled. That's dangerous."

He had a point.

Back at the hotel I went straight to the sitting area where the ginseng waited in its protective case. I opened it carefully and examined the root under the light.

The texture was right. The color matched what Ghost Doctor's texts described. The weight felt substantial in my hands.

"You're not even looking at the bracelet," Jack said from the doorway.

"The bracelet was just cover. This is what matters."

"You paid ten million dollars for a root."

"A thousand-year root. Do you know how rare this is? How many treatments I can develop with this?"

Jack crossed to the bar and poured himself a drink. "You're the only woman I know who gets more excited about medicine than jewelry."

"I stole this from Amelia." I couldn't help the satisfaction in my voice. "She wanted it so badly. And I got it instead."

"That's what makes you happy? Beating a spoiled rich girl?"

"A little bit, yes."

Jack laughed. He set down his glass and pulled me close. His hands were careful of my growing belly. His lips found mine. They were warm and familiar.

"Go rest," I said against his mouth. "You just flew in from Boston. You must be exhausted."

"I'm not tired yet." Jack's hand rested on my lower back. "The Moore family hasn't responded."

"You really think they will?"

"I told Amelia to have her grandfather call. The old man won't ignore a direct challenge."

The doorbell rang.

Jack's expression didn't change. "That was fast."

Marcus opened the door. Harrison stood in the hallway. One hand gripped Amelia's arm. She looked furious and terrified in equal measure.

"Mr. Sterling, Mrs. Sterling." Harrison's voice was tight. "My grandfather isn't feeling well. He asked me to bring Amelia to apologize personally."

I stayed seated. "Jack said your grandfather needed to come himself."

"He's eighty-five and has a heart condition. The shock of hearing about this incident—" Harrison's grip on Amelia's arm tightened. "Please. She's here to apologize. That should be enough."

"It's not." My voice stayed level. "Jack said what he said. Your grandfather comes, or the consequences stand."

Amelia's eyes had been fixed on me since she entered. Now her face went through several expressions at once. Shock. Recognition. Disbelief.

"You're—" She stepped forward and jerked free of Harrison's grip. "You're that actress. The one from the movie last year. Everyone was talking about you."

I said nothing.

"You're Jack Sterling's wife. You own that mall in Boston. You're—" Amelia's voice climbed higher. "How is this possible? You're supposed to be nobody!"

"Amelia." Harrison's voice cut through her spiral. "Stop talking."

"She's the one?" Amelia spun to face her brother. "The woman you've been defending? She's an actress! That's barely better than—"

"Finish that sentence and I'll drag you out of here myself."

Amelia's mouth snapped shut. But her eyes stayed on me. They burned with resentment and something that might have been envy.

Chicago's First Lady. That's what they call her. And here I am, younger, more successful, married to someone more powerful than anyone in her family.

"You think you're so special." Amelia's voice shook. "But you're nothing. What gives you the right to demand my grandfather come here? You're not even—"

The slap echoed through the room.

Harrison's hand had moved so fast I almost missed it. Amelia stumbled back. One hand flew to her reddening cheek.

The silence stretched out. Harrison stared at his own hand. His face was pale. Amelia stared at her brother.

"You hit me." Her voice was barely a whisper.

"I—" Harrison looked horrified. "Amelia, I didn't mean—"

"You hit me!" The whisper became a scream. "You've never hit me! Not once! Not ever!"

"You were being disrespectful—"

"I'm your sister!"

"And you're acting insane!" Harrison's voice rose to match hers. "Do you understand what you've done? What you almost cost our family?"

"I don't care about the family! I care that my brother just hit me for some actress!"

"She's not—" Harrison stopped himself. He took a breath. "Amelia, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have hit you. But you need to apologize."

"No."

"Amelia—"

"I hate you." Tears streamed down her face. "I hate you so much. This is all because of her. Everything is because of her!"

She turned and ran. The door slammed behind her.

Harrison stood frozen. His hand was still raised slightly, as if he couldn't quite believe what he'd done.

"I apologize," he said finally. His voice was flat. Empty. "For everything. For my sister's behavior. For my own. This was—I shouldn't have lost control."

"It's fine," I said.

"It's not fine. I just struck my sister in front of witnesses." Harrison ran his hand through his hair. "I need to go after her. Make sure she's okay."

"She needs time to cool down."

"She needs her brother. Not the one who just hit her, but the one who's supposed to protect her." Harrison's eyes met mine. "I really am sorry. For all of this."

"Jack won't pursue this further," I said. "Go take care of your sister."

Harrison nodded and left.

The door closed. Jack poured another drink.

"That went well," he said dryly.

"Better than expected, honestly."

"You think the grandfather will let this go?"

"I think Harrison will make sure he does." I stood and stretched. My back ached from sitting. "Can we go home tomorrow?"

"First thing in the morning."

We flew back to Boston the next day. The weekend passed in a blur of family time. Luke wanted to show me his new drawings. Max typed out short messages on his tablet. Words felt too hard for him sometimes, but the tablet helped him communicate.

Sunday dinner brought everyone together. Asher and Amy came home. Maria cooked roast chicken. The dining room filled with conversation and laughter.

"Did you hear Ethan is coming back?" Asher asked. He reached for more potatoes.

"Jack told me." I glanced at my husband. "He's been overseas for three years, right?"

"Three and a half." Asher grinned. "Jack sent him away to keep him from bothering you."

"I did not send him away." Jack's tone was mild. "I gave him an opportunity to expand his career."

"Conveniently on another continent."

"Purely coincidental."

Amy laughed. "Ethan should work at Sterling Investments. You could keep an eye on him."

"Terrible idea," Asher said immediately. Then he caught Jack's expression. "I mean, yes. Great idea. Very strategic."

"He can work wherever he wants," Jack said. "As long as it's not near Ella."

"Things are going to get interesting when he gets back," Amy said.

Maria appeared with a silver tray. "This just arrived by courier. For Mrs. Sterling."

I took the envelope. Heavy cream paper. Gold embossing. Inside was an invitation.

Mr. Xavier Moore requests the pleasure of your company at his eighty-fifth birthday celebration. Saturday, eight o'clock. The Moore Estate, Chicago.

"When was this sent?" I asked.

"The courier said it was mailed yesterday evening," Maria replied.

Yesterday. Before Harrison came to the hotel. Before the confrontation.

"Are you going?" Asher leaned over to read the invitation.

"I don't even know Xavier Moore."

"That's not really an answer."

I pulled out my phone and texted Harrison. Thank you for the invitation, but I'll have to decline. I hope your grandfather has a wonderful celebration.

His response came within minutes. I understand. Thank you for your consideration. And again, my apologies for last night.

I set the phone down and put the invitation in a drawer.

Seven days later, everything changed.