Chapter 1
Cassian did not ask questions until his mother was safe.
Lavinia seemed to expect rage.
Brennan seemed to expect another punch.
Neither got what they wanted.
Cassian turned to the two bodyguards at the dining-room doors.
“Brennan stays in the east office.”
His younger brother pushed himself upright.
“You don’t order me around like staff.”
Cassian looked at him.
“You put your hands on Greta while my mother was kneeling on the floor.”
Brennan wiped blood from his lip.
“You have no idea what was happening.”
“Good.”
Cassian’s expression remained flat.
“Then you’ll have plenty to explain.”
He looked at Lavinia.
“You leave.”
“This is my home.”
“It was.”
“We are married.”
“For the moment.”
That finally shook her.
Cassian did not continue.
Threats made people defensive.
Paperwork made them careful.
He had learned that difference later in life than he should have.
Greta helped Estelle upstairs.
Cassian followed.
His mother weighed barely more than one hundred pounds. She had always been small, but not this small.
Greta brought warm water and clean clothes.
Cassian stayed outside the bathroom while she helped Estelle wash.
He could hear his mother apologizing.
That bothered him more than the leash.
She kept saying she was sorry for making trouble.
When Greta finally opened the door, Estelle was dressed in a soft robe.
Cassian sat beside her.
“When did you last eat?”
Estelle looked confused by the question.
“Properly?”
“Yes.”
She thought.
“Tuesday.”
It was Friday night.
Cassian’s jaw tightened.
“What did they give you?”
“Tea.”
“Anything else?”
“A little soup yesterday.”
Greta spoke from the doorway.
“I found a tray outside her room Wednesday night. Untouched.”
“Why?”
Estelle looked down at her hands.
“They said I had to cooperate first.”
Cassian became still.
“With what?”
His mother did not answer immediately.
Then she whispered:
“Questions.”
“What questions?”
“What day it was. Who the president was. Where I lived.”
Cassian stared at her.
“Who asked you?”
“Brennan sometimes. Lavinia. A nurse came once.”
Greta added quietly, “There’s more.”
Cassian looked at her.
Greta hesitated.
“They kept telling Mrs. Morretti she was confused.”
Estelle’s face tightened.
“They said I forget things.”
“Do you?”
“Of course I forget things.”
She sounded irritated for the first time.
“I’m seventy-nine, not a calendar.”
Despite everything, Cassian almost smiled.
Then Estelle caught his sleeve.
“They said you knew.”
The smile disappeared.
“Knew what?”
“That I needed to prove I could still behave properly.”
Cassian felt something cold move through him.
He had been gone for four days handling negotiations in New York.
Lavinia knew exactly when he was returning.
Or she should have.
“Mom.”
Estelle looked at him.
“Did anyone ask you to sign anything?”
Her eyes shifted toward Greta.
That was enough.
Cassian leaned closer.
“What did they put in front of you?”
“A folder.”
“What kind?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you sign?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Estelle swallowed.
“Because your father taught me never to sign anything while somebody is standing over me.”
Cassian sat back.
His father had been dead seventeen years.
It was still the best advice anyone had given her.
Greta opened a drawer beside the bed.
“I found this under the dinner cart.”
She handed Cassian a yellow sticky note.
Only four words were written on it.
Try again after meal.
No signature.
No context.
Cassian read it twice.
The starvation had not been random.
May you like
Somebody had connected food to cooperation.
And whatever they wanted from Estelle had not yet been completed when he opened the dining-room doors.
