She didn’t say anything as I led her to her room, but when I pulled her sheets back and helped her into bed, there was gratefulness in her gaze.

“Talk to him. Make him see sense,” she urged me, and I wasn’t sure what she was asking of me.

I gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before murmuring softly, “Get some sleep, Elaine. Oliver and I will be just downstairs if you need us.”

Leaving her room and going back down, I found King in the library. The drinks cabinet was open, and half a bottle of Southern Comfort sat on the desk. His eyes rose to meet mine.

“Want one?”

Normally I’d decline, but the situation called for a drink, so I nodded and took the seat next to him. He poured, and I watched. Then he handed me the glass, and I knocked it back. The room was quiet for a long few minutes, and I wasn’t sure why, but I felt the urge to hug him, to bridge the monumental gap that seemed to linger between us. I threw my arms around his shoulders, and he stiffened.

I didn’t let go.

He resisted my embrace for so long that I was sure I’d have to give up eventually, but then he softened. It all happened at once. His body melted into mine as his arms went around my waist and pulled me close. He clutched me so tightly I felt the air rush from my lungs. It was in that moment that I knew I’d given him just what he needed.

He didn’t need words or sex or platitudes. He just needed a hug. Human comfort.

His hands tangled in my hair, and mine laced around his neck. “I’m here to help. Whatever you need,” I whispered, and his body sagged.

I didn’t expect him to speak, didn’t really expect anything at all other than for him to accept my hug, which was why hearing his voice startled me.

“Yesterday you asked me who Bruce was,” he said, speaking into my neck. “He’s my father.”

I grew still, and King pulled away a little to meet my eyes. “He’s also been blackmailing me almost my entire life.”

My brow furrowed as I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”

King let out a long breath, picked up his glass, and knocked the entire contents back in one go. “My mother has been playing piano since she could walk. Her family were wealthy, and when they saw she had a natural talent, they invested a lot in her career. Once she hit her mid-teens, she began to get attention, and soon she was performing with orchestras, travelling around the world.”

I stared at him, absorbing his words. King poured more liquid into his glass.

“She was playing at the Royal Albert Hall on a night when my father was in attendance. He saw her on stage and decided he wanted her. She was just seventeen, but Bruce Mitchell was a man who got what he wanted. He was a lot older and very rich, but he was also dangerous, which was probably what attracted Mum — the danger, the excitement. They were from different worlds, still are, and Bruce is not a good man. He’s a criminal, a very powerful one. All of the most despicable things you can think of, my father has most likely had a hand in them.”

“Oliver, I….”

“Hush. Just let me speak. I’ve never told anyone this before.” He paused to meet my gaze, tilting his head. “I trust you, Alexis. That doesn’t make me a fool, does it?”

I frowned. “Of course not. Anything you tell me will never leave this room.”

He took a swig of his drink and breathed out. “Anyway, long story short, Mum had a brief affair with Bruce and fell pregnant with me. Her career really took off after that and she became very famous for a number of years, while Bruce sort of drifted into the background. Then, just after I turned eighteen, Mum started having trouble with a stalker. It was a scary time for both of us. We’d come home to find the house had been broken into, the valuables left untouched but personal items of my mother’s stolen. He’d write creepy, obsessive letters, and Mum had to set the police on the case. Months passed, and Mum started to go out in public less and less. She was frightened of running into her stalker, and a lot of what he’d written in his letters indicated he wasn’t of sound mind. And then, one night during the summer before I was to start university, I came home and found my mother beaten up and restrained, a man readying himself to rape her. I lost the plot, went crazy, and beat the living daylights out of him. I couldn’t stop.” King’s voice choked up, and I saw his eyes fill with emotion as he remembered. I was so absorbed in his story, so horrified by it, that I’d almost stopped breathing for a moment. I took his hand in mine, squeezed it tight.

“I…I thought I’d killed him. I couldn’t find a pulse, so I panicked. I swear, Alexis, thinking you’ve killed a man is the most terrifying feeling in the world. It’s like everything is over and your whole future is gone. I didn’t know whether to call the police or start thinking about where I could bury the body, but then Mum spoke up. She told me to call Bruce. I’d only met my father a handful of times, barely knew anything about him, but I was in such a state that I simply did as she told me.

“A little while later he showed up at the house, finding Mum beaten and bruised, and me covered in another man’s blood. I thought he was our saviour back then. He took care of everything. Got the man I’d beaten to a hospital, paid him to keep quiet, and made sure no one knew I’d almost killed him in my anger and fear. The experience would always stay with me, but at least it was over. And then, several months later, Bruce began making his presence known. He wanted to get to know his son, spend time with me. I was more than happy to oblige him at first. However, once I became familiar with my father and his way of life, I wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. Bruce, unfortunately, was unwilling to let me go. He told me he’d never taken Mum’s stalker to a hospital that night, but instead had him killed and buried in a shallow grave. He told me that if I didn’t start doing as he said, he’d see to it that the police found the body and I’d be done for murder.”

I stared at him, flabbergasted and appalled. I clutched his hand so tight that I was probably cutting off his blood supply. “So…your dad, I mean, Bruce has been blackmailing you to do his bidding ever since?”

King leaned closer. “The things I’ve seen, Alexis, the things he’s forced me to witness, don’t even bear thinking about. I built my entire career cleanly, never cheating, never doing anything underhanded, for the sole purpose of never becoming like him. But now….” King sighed, his jaw working as his chest fell, “Now he’s looking for new ways to clean his money, and he’s decided to do it by having me invest for him. I told him just once, that I’d do this one deal with Hirota, and then I never wanted to see him again. But if coming here today and threatening Mum is anything to go by, he has no intention of leaving us alone.” He glanced at me. “Remember when I told you Mum had to be taken into the hospital?”

I nodded.

“She’d overdosed on anxiety medication, because she was so worried about what Bruce would do to us if the deal didn’t go through. I can’t let her live like this anymore. My mother is the only family I have left in the world, and she’s spent more than a decade as a ghost. She’s too anxious and paranoid over Bruce’s threats to even leave the house. I want to see her live again, see her go outside and be like any other ordinary woman on the street.”

My heart pounded at his words, at the sincerity of them and the pain he had so obviously been harbouring for years. I wanted to fix this for him. I needed to. And I knew just the person to go to for help. I’d grown up in a lower-class neighbourhood, and having been best friends with Karla all my life, a policewoman raised by a superintendent, I knew my fair share about how criminals operated.

I sat up straight and levelled my eyes on King’s.

“If Bruce is the man you say he is, then you have to fight fire with fire. Beat him at his own game. That’s the only way you’ll ever be rid of him. There’s probably a wealth of information out there about things he’s done he doesn’t want anyone to find out about. You just have to know the right people to ask.”