Chapter 6

Beckett

The first light of dawn filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my penthouse suite. I stood before the mirror, methodically buttoning a crisp white shirt, my movements precise despite the early hour.

My phone buzzed on the dresser. I answered without looking at the caller ID.

"Boss," Marco's gravelly voice filled the room. "Got that report you wanted on Boston's power structure."

"Go ahead," I said, reaching for a tie—navy silk, the color of the Mediterranean on a clear day. Old habits.

"Also, Boss, Salvatore Benedetti from the North End crew wants a sit-down. Says it's about respect, territory, the usual bullshit."

"Tell Salvatore I'm swamped." I adjusted the tie with practiced ease. "His idea of respect involves too many guns and not enough brains. Now, the families."

"Right. Three major players still run this city's legit side. The Montgomerys are untouchable—finance, real estate, political connections that go straight to D.C. Your uncle Everett's got his hands in everything."

I selected a suit jacket—blue, of course. The vast blue sea had left its mark on me in more ways than one. As I slipped it on, I caught my reflection and almost laughed at the irony. My father had given me two tasks before I returned to Boston.

Three days in, and I'd already accomplished one of them. Though probably not in the way he'd envisioned.

"The Blackwells," Marco continued, "used to be Montgomery-level players. Now? They're barely hanging on. Company's basically a Montgomery Corp subsidiary at this point. Without that support, they'd be done in months."

"How bad?"

"Completely screwed. Without Montgomery backing, Blackwell Holdings would tank within months. It's basically a shell company now, kept alive more for show than anything else."

Interesting. That explained the desperation I'd witnessed at the Blackwell household. This Calloway character, then, must be extraordinarily wealthy if he was the one poised to rescue Blackwell Holdings from its financial abyss.

"The Vandorens are new money. Tech fortune, trying to buy their way into high society. Xavier Vandoren's playing the strategic marriage game."

"Got it." I fastened my cufflinks—white gold, subtle.

"Anything else?"

"Your uncle Everett's hosting something tonight at the Elysium Plaza. You're expected."

"Confirm it."

After ending the call, I stood at the window, looking out over Boston's awakening skyline. The second task my father had given me... I ran my fingers along the window's edge, feeling the cold glass beneath my fingertips. Some secrets were meant to be buried so deep that even family couldn't unearth them. But my father had other plans.

But first, I had a family dinner to attend.

At dinner time, I sat in the glittering halls of The Elysium Plaza, the most exclusive venue in Boston. At the center of our private dining room sat Everett Montgomery, the family patriarch.

"Beckett, my boy," he chuckled, "after almost twenty years apart—and we've missed you like hell—you're still sharp as ever. Fifteen years younger than Griffin, yet the way you've handled Kyrenna Global Holdings, he could learn a thing or two."

"Thanks, Dad," Griffin Montgomery added, though his tone carried a subtle edge beneath the surface admiration. Despite his beer belly and comfortable demeanor, there was a sharpness in his eyes. "Especially operating so far from home in the Mediterranean. I hear that region's a nightmare. Pirates, crime syndicates. I'm genuinely curious how you managed to not just survive but actually thrive in such a volatile environment."

I brushed my finger against my lips elegantly, meeting Griffin's gaze with calm amusement. "The more chaos there is, the more opportunities pop up, Griffin. High risk, high reward. The potential in unstable markets is huge—something you maybe can't fully appreciate in America's more... conservative business climate."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop a degree. Everett, sensing the undercurrent of tension, leaned forward quickly, his eyes sharp with the instinct of a man who'd navigated family politics for decades.

"Speaking of potential, my boy," he interjected smoothly, "I've been meaning to talk to you about something. You're thirty-one now, established, successful. Time you thought about settling down."

This was hardly unexpected from Uncle Everett; I'd been anticipating this particular conversation. A slow smile spread across my face. "Actually, Uncle," I said, my tone light but firm, "you're a little late with that advice. I got married."

Everett raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "Married? When the hell did this happen? Your father mentioned wanting me to find you a suitable match!"

"Recent development," I said, allowing a small, enigmatic smile. "Met her a few days ago. Total whirlwind romance, you could say. Love at first sight. We rushed into it, didn't have time to tell anyone."

"Love at first sight?" Everett looked skeptical but amused. "That's not like you, Beckett. She must be something special."

"She's... unexpected," I answered truthfully. Rosalind Blackwell had surprised me in more ways than one, though not necessarily in the manner I was implying.

"Well, we've gotta meet this woman who managed to capture the heart of our most calculating family member," Griffin said, raising his glass in a toast. "To unexpected love."

Everett's eyes widened for a moment, then a genuine smile transformed his face. "Beckett, I'm thrilled you've found happiness so quickly." He chuckled warmly. "And speaking of love and happy endings," he continued, his tone full of genuine affection, "my grandson—your nephew, Calloway—he's also about to get married! To Rosalind Blackwell."

My expression froze for a moment as the name registered.

Calloway... that Calloway? That bastard Calloway, the one who'd driven Rosalind to such desperation, was family? My own goddamn nephew? Which meant I'd just married my nephew's fiancée?

The expensive scotch I'd been savoring suddenly tasted like bile, and it was all I could do not to spit it out right there.

Everett continued. "That sweet girl... she's been part of our lives for the past five years, you know. I've come to think of her as practically a granddaughter myself. It makes an old man like me so happy to see two young people so obviously in love finally making it official."

But his words, however heartfelt, were a distant buzzing in my ears.

"He'll be showing up later tonight, unfortunately," Griffin turned to me with a thin smile. "He sends his apologies for being late. He's been really curious about you, Beckett, totally fascinated by your success story. He mentioned how impressive it must be to build an empire where the usual business rules don't always apply."

I raised my glass with a slight smile. "Innovation usually means stepping outside conventional boundaries, Griffin. Maybe Calloway will get that when he's ready."

Just as we clinked glasses, a butler approached with a cordless phone. "Sir, there's a call for you," he said to Everett. "It's Ms. Blackwell."

I nearly choked on my drink. Everett smiled immediately.

"Rosalind, sweetheart!" he said warmly. "What a wonderful surprise. What can I do for you?" He listened for a moment. "Oh? Something you need to tell me in person? Of course, of course. I'm at The Elysium Plaza right now. Come right over, I'll have someone meet you at the entrance."