“Oh, Lei.” I felt a little of her remembered suffering; her tone of voice carried so much pain. “What did you do?”

“Nothing, and maybe that was the wrong choice. Ian is prone to jealousy, so he’s especially vulnerable in that regard. I refused to confirm or deny his accusations because I was so hurt that he’d given them any credence at all. I told him to figure it out for himself, and apparently I was tried and convicted.”

“Jeez. I’m sorry.”

She shrugged off my sympathy, but gave me a rueful smile. “It’s been over a long time now.”

I drummed my fingers on the armrests of my chair as I warred with myself about discussing Jax with someone who didn’t trust him. I valued Lei’s opinion, but it wasn’t objective when it came to Jackson Rutledge.

In the end, though, I told her because of her bias. I wanted an extreme, worst-case-scenario opinion.

Lei sat forward as I spoke, and by the time I finished, she’d set her elbows on her knees and her chin on her hands. “So he’s withholding information from you. People keep secrets for two main reasons—to protect themselves or to protect someone else. Do you have any thoughts about which direction Jackson is moving in?”

“I’m not sure. With everything else we’ve faced, I could see him trying to...shield me from something. But this... I can’t help feeling like he didn’t want me to know my family was being used to further a Rutledge agenda.”

“If that’s the case, it probably won’t be the last time. How do you feel about that?”

“Pissed. How can he say he loves me, and then do things that I have a problem with?”

“That’s a question you have to ask him. Sooner rather than later.”

Lei had just reaffirmed what I already knew, but it was still valuable to have my position confirmed.

Now I just had to prepare myself for what I’d do once I got the answer.

* * *

When my lunch break rolled around, I checked my smartphone and saw I’d missed a callback from Deanna. I headed to one of Savor’s conference rooms for privacy, passing LaConnie, who was arranging a new display of branded spices and seasonings on the shelf behind her reception desk.

She waved as I passed, and I complimented her on the kick-ass red pantsuit she was wearing.

I was smiling when I entered the same conference room where I’d taken Jax when he visited Savor. That memory helped alleviate some of the nervous anticipation I felt when I dialed Deanna’s number.

“Gianna,” she greeted me. “Glad we got past the game of phone tag.”

“Me, too. How are you?”

“Excellent. Hang on. Let me move somewhere more quiet.” A moment later, the background noise of multiple people talking at once disappeared. “So I looked into the Rutledges, focusing on Leslie Rutledge as you suggested. You’ve got great instincts—I hit a gold mine with that one.”

“Oh?” A shiver of unease slid down my spine.

“The family had her committed to a sanitarium for a few months. It was after she was released that she disappeared from public view. There were some rumors back then, nothing concrete, but now I’ve got a reliable source.”

My gut twisted. I started pacing.

“I can’t confirm what kind of mental illness she had,” Deanna went on, “but the real story here is that she was expendable. She had a problem and they packed her up, out of sight.”

“You don’t know that!” I thought of the photos of Leslie in Jax’s living room. He hadn’t forgotten her.

“Uh, yeah. I do. Just a minute.” The receiver was muffled, then, “Anyway. More details will emerge after the story breaks. They always do.”

I straightened, panicked. “What do you mean ‘after the story breaks’?”

“It’s news and about to be public knowledge.”

“That wasn’t the deal!”

“What deal?” Deanna shot back. “We didn’t have one beyond you paying me for my time, which I won’t be collecting on because this is going to pay off in other ways.”

“You can’t run this story!” I hissed, circling the conference table with angry strides.

“It’s already done, Gianna. Your name isn’t mentioned, so don’t worry about that. Listen, I’ve got to go. I just wanted to give you a head’s up and say thanks. Take care, all right?”

She hung up and my smartphone disconnected before I’d even lowered the phone from my ear.

* * *

I left the conference room in a rage, so pissed I could hardly see straight. I was as furious with myself as I was with Deanna. How could I not have foreseen the possibility that she’d use the information she found?

“Your man knows how to treat you right,” LaConnie said as I passed her again. “I just set another delivery on your desk.”

Cringing inwardly, I felt the weight of guilt on my shoulders. The sight of pure white lilies next to my phone damn near closed off my throat.

I plucked off the attached card.

I’m waving the white flag of surrender.

I love you, baby. We’ll talk tonight.

Jax had signed the card, but his signature blurred amid my anxious tears.

Worse than the violation of his privacy, I feared that such personal revelations about his mother would hurt him deeply. Her pictures in the living room of our home told me he had cared for her, but his reluctance to talk about her suggested the topic was painful.

And now the world would know about her, and I was directly to blame.

I touched a velvet-soft petal. “We’ve screwed up something perfect,” I said softly.

Sinking into my chair, I started to plan how best to tell him what I’d done.

* * *

I had a good handle on how I wanted to open the subject of Deanna’s story when the elevators on the penthouse floor opened and I stepped out into chaos.

I paused, shocked. The front door was open and through it I could see a dozen people in suits, pacing in my living room with smartphones pressed to their ears.

The queasiness I’d felt all day worsened until I thought I might be sick right there in the foyer.

When I crossed the threshold into the apartment, I looked for Jax. I couldn’t find him, but Parker was there in front of the entertainment center, his gaze on the photos of his late wife. He would have stood out from the melee on sheer presence, but unmoving amid the frenetic swarm of visitors, he riveted me.

He turned his head toward me. I watched as the recognition of my presence set in. He started toward me.

“What’s going on?” I asked, although I feared I already knew the answer.

“We’re trying to put out a fire. I’m sorry we’ve taken over, but Jackson prefers to handle some issues from his home office.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

His mouth, so like Jax’s, twisted wryly. “I could use a drink. Something strong, preferably.”

“Okay.” I looked around him to the console by the window where crystal decanters held the world’s finest liquors. I frowned when I saw only a vase of flowers atop it. “I’ll get you something.”

“Thanks. I’ll put your purse in your bedroom,” he offered, holding out his hand for it.

As he set off down the hallway, I maneuvered through the men and women wandering around the sunken living room. Bits and pieces of conversations washed over me.

“...confirm the source...”

“...should consider possible defamation and slander liabilities...”

“...a declaration of war against the Rutledge family isn’t wise...”

My hands were shaking when I opened the doors of the console. The crystal decanters were tucked neatly inside, but they were empty. I made my way back to the kitchen, where I discovered an empty wine fridge.

Confused, I faced Parker when he returned. “Looks like we’re out of everything.”

“I couldn’t find anything, either.”