Chapter 115 The Long Game

Chapter 115 The Long Game
POV: BRIGAIL
Nine days.
Jerry and Michele were gone by morning. No warning. No note. Russell had them moved to an undisclosed location before she woke up, which told her exactly how closely he had been watching her since she arrived.
She played her hand the only way she could with nothing in it.
Every morning Russell summoned Corbett to the conference room and put him through a parade of small, pointless instructions. Check the slot machines at the east wing. Prepare the suites for the Threadgills and the Talleys. Brief the pit bosses before William's shift change.
Corbett nodded at each one.
Brigail sat in the second chair against the wall and watched.
Russell's message was not subtle. He had been delivering the same one for nine days without using a single word.
If I could do it to him, I could do it to you.
She wore her poker face and watched Russell in return. She was beginning to understand why Felipe had called him a patient man. He didn't rush. He didn't threaten. He simply controlled every variable in the room and waited for the ones he couldn't control to reveal themselves.
She recognized the strategy because she had seen it before, across a chessboard, in a man who was equally patient and considerably more dangerous.
After a week, Corbett was sent back to Macau without warning.
Brigail went to her room and went through the minibar methodically, bottle by bottle, sitting at the window with the Vegas skyline laid out in front of her, looking for answers she already knew weren't in there.
Two days later, Russell drew his next card.
POV: BRIGAIL
"Ah, Susannah. Sit."
Russell's office had a carved rosewood desk the size of a small country and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that lined the wall behind him. Nora was already in the room, which Brigail had not expected. She came out from a slim door beside the bookcase in a fitted purple dress, holding a glass of amber liquor.
Brigail kept her face entirely neutral.
"You seem well," Russell said.
"It could be better."
He smiled. He had the specific smile of a man who had decided the outcome of a conversation before the other person arrived. "We've never had the chance to speak privately, just the two of us." He loosened his tie slightly. "It's been nine days. I think it's time you earn your keep."
"You want me to work for you," she said flatly. "While holding me hostage."
"No one is holding you hostage," he replied with gentle patience. "You came here, Susannah. Of your own accord."
"I came for my father. The one you hid from us for a decade."
He made a low sound through his teeth. "You've been gravely misled. I offered Corbett a choice. He chose to leave you and your brother in poverty rather than accept what my resources could provide." He tilted his head. "Corbett got his sentimentality from Adele. He let his emotions rule. It was always his greatest flaw."
Brigail ground her back teeth.
"Get to your point," she said. "There's a rerun I want to catch."
He laughed. It was a low, hollow sound. "I was told you had a gift for this. I didn't expect you to aim it at me."
He turned his head. "Isn't she something, Nora."
Nora moved out from behind the chair. She stopped in front of Brigail and leaned against the edge of the desk, crossing her ankles. "Quite clever," she agreed. "For a cook."
Brigail looked at her. "How many times do I have to flush before you stay gone?"
Nora pressed her lips together.
"Don't flatter yourself," Nora said. "I'm not here for you. I heard Eli's back on the market." She let that sit for exactly one second. "Didn't I say it would happen?"
"He didn't leave me," Brigail said.
"Then why are you here?"
"Because I was told to stay away from him." She shifted her gaze to Russell. "Apparently a relationship with a Michealson is unacceptable."
Russell said nothing. He was waiting.
Nora leaned in. "Trust me, darling. After tonight you won't mind the distance."
Brigail held still.
Russell cleared his throat. "It has come to my attention that I have a rat in my house."
"I know," Brigail said. "I'm looking at one."
Nora opened her mouth. Russell raised one finger, barely, and she closed it.
"You know who I mean," Russell said. "Thalia Romero."
The name landed like a stone in still water.
Brigail kept her breathing even.
"She helped you enter the North," he continued. "She's been feeding information. I know all of it." He folded his hands on the table. "What I need from you is something specific."
He looked at her.
"I don't want you to fire her," he said pleasantly. "I want you to terminate her. Permanently."
Brigail was out of her chair before she made the decision to move.
"No." Both palms hit the desk. "I am not a murderer."
Nora slid off the desk and moved behind Russell's chair.
"We are all capable of it," Russell said, entirely unmoved. "It's a matter of perspective. Michealson planted her in my hotel. I am protecting what is mine."
"Get one of your people to do it."
"I want you to do it."
"Why."
He didn't answer immediately.
"Because I want to know if I can trust you," he said. "And because I want Eli Michealson to look at you and see what you've become. I want him to understand what it means to take something that belongs to an Edgington."
Brigail's hands were flat on the desk and she could feel them shaking and she could not make them stop.
"I won't," she said. "Kill me instead. I will not do this."
He reached toward her hand. She pulled it back.
His expression didn't change.
"You can't harm your own blood," he said. "However." He paused. "Michele is no Edgington."
Brigail went cold all the way through.
"She's pregnant," she said.
"An accident. Jerry is young and capable. He'll manage."
"She is pregnant," Brigail said again, each word separate and deliberate.
"Do I look like I care?" he replied, mimicking her cadence.
The room was completely silent.
Brigail sat back down.
She wrapped her arms around her waist and stared at the surface of his desk and thought about Michele, who had married Jerry in a tent in a Louisiana garden and danced at her own reception with her shoes off and who had not asked for any of this.
She thought about the baby.
Russell's finger began drumming a slow, patient rhythm on the rosewood.
She looked up.
"I'll do it," she said.
Nora's satisfaction was almost visible from across the room.
"I have conditions."
Russell smiled. "Naturally."
"I do it my way," she said. "Painless. Quick. You handle the clean-up. I am not going back to jail."
"I would have preferred something more extended," he said. "But I suppose I can't always have what I want."
"You'll release Michele. After this is done you don't need her anymore. Let her go back to Louisiana."
He studied her for a long moment.
"Done," he said.
She exhaled very slowly.
"Corbett's debt to Eli," she said. "I want you to return the money Eli paid to clear Longshadow's tab. Have it delivered to him. Cash." She paused. "And I want out of my Fiordilatte contract. Have your lawyers handle it."
Russell's brow went up slightly. "You want Nora to deliver it."
"I want it delivered by someone who isn't me," she said. Her voice dropped just enough. "Nora's right. After tonight I may not be able to look him in the eyes."
Nora's smile was wide and real and Brigail stored the image of it carefully for later.
"The farmhouse," Russell said. "He has the deed. I want it in return."
"You've taken enough from Earl's family. Leave them the land."
"Unacceptable." His tone was final. "The deed comes to me. Those are my terms."
Brigail pressed her lips together. She had already known he would not move on this one. She had planned for it.
She nodded once.
"Now," Russell said, leaning back with the specific ease of a man who had been waiting a very long time for this moment. "Tell me how you plan to handle our pest problem."
Brigail drew a slow breath.
It was time to go atomic.