Finnegan

"I don’t know what’s going on exactly," Martha’s voice trembled as she pulled me away from mother’s room, glancing around the corridor as if someone was going to jump out from the shadows.

"What have you seen, Martha?"

"She has been on the phone at all hours," she mumbled, pursing her thin lips. The wrinkles on her face looked more severe with worry etched all over them.

"She screams a ometimes, which she never does. Your mother does not scream, Finn."

"In my thirty years, I have never once heard her raise her voice past a certain level." Her eyes moved to the closed door. "

"Two nights ago, I heard her telling someone that if IT came out, she would handle it personally." She shook her head slowly. "The way she said it, it was terrifying."

Just what had mother gotten roped into? What was she up to?

"What else?" I kept my voice as even as I could, which was a miracle considering how positively furious I was. Hell, my blood pressure had to be through the roof with the way blood rushed through my ears.

"There have been some men," She pressed her lips together.

"Very strange men. They were black suits and kept coming at odd hours, usually when I am asleep, but I’ve seen them meet with her behind the mansion.@

"I was afraid they would hurt her on the first night, but they keep addressing her as boss. I couldn’t eavesdrop much; I was afraid I would get caught."

Damn, all this had been going on right under my nose? Was burning down my home also one of her and Victoria’s plans?

"Thank you for telling me this, Martha," I murmured, squeezing her frail hand.

"Just be careful, okay?" She sighed. "Your mother was never the same since your father died. I even found her in the kitchen at two in the morning last Thursday." Her voice dropped lower.

"She was burning papers in the fire. A whole stack of them. When she saw me, she told me to go back to bed and never mention it."

The corridor was quiet around us.

What would confronting mother do exactly?

It would only make her hide and cover her tracks. I was sure she would find some way to explain what I had seen. No one I knew, not even Dad, had been able to beat my mother at her own games.

The only smart way would be to play the same way she was. She had several eyes and ears on me. I had nothing on her.

"Martha, I’ll need you to do me a favor." My hands left hers to grab her shoulders gently.

"Anything,"

"Keep listening," I murmured. "Whatever you hear, whatever you see, you call me directly and inform me, okay? Can you do that, please?"

A soft smile lit up her old and tired face. I closed my eyes briefly when she brushed her palm over my face. "Anything for you, Finn,"

James pulled away from the gate, and I sat in the back, staring into nothing while the anger moved through me in slow, cold waves.

I had spent all my life being the perfect son. The obedient one, the one who had stepped into the company my father built and grown it beyond measure, swallowing all of mother’s criticism and her impossible standards because she was my mother.

And this was all I got?

Confronting her directly would only make her know that I knew, and the moment she knew that, she would close everything down and bury it so deep that I would never find the bottom of it.

She had to keep believing I was in the dark so I could beat her at her own game. Which meant the people around me who were feeding her information had to keep believing the same thing.

I rapped my finger against my thigh, making a mental note of the possible people around me who were working for my mother. Atticus, my company lawyer, had been with Castellano for eleven years.

He has access to more of the company’s inner workings than almost anyone else on the payroll. He was also close to his mother.

There was no way he didn’t know about any of those transactions, whether real or fake.

Then, of course, there was Victoria. But what exactly did Victoria stand to gain if Mom got rid of me? And if she was supporting mom in getting rid of me anyway, why wouldn’t she sign the fucking divorce papers and leave me the hell alone?!

I pulled out my phone and dialed Matt.

"Boss."

"I have a new assignment for you ," I informed him. "Can we meet? We have a lot to discuss."

"Sure thing, boss. Name the place, and I’ll be there."

I picked a location, and just as the call ended, my fingers rapidly typed a message to

Abigail.

Finnegan: We’re done for the day. Please go home. I’ll have the payment for Anette’s services forwarded.

Her response came back in under a minute, which meant she had been with her phone.

Was she waiting for me? Why did the thought of her waiting for me make the searing pain of betrayal in my chest bearable?

Abigail: Annette says not to worry. Are you fine? Where are you?

Finnegan: I insist. I’ll call you when I am done. Go home, Abigail.

Abigail: Okay, please don’t go MIA on me, or I could be motivated to join the FBI and track you down like a beast.

A low chuckle rolled off my lips, startling not just James in the driver’s seat, but even me as well. I bit back a smile that threatened to form. Abigail was so fucking humorous sometimes.

But you like it, A voice in my head teased me.

Matt and I met at a private bar. We sat across from each other for three hours, where I informed him of the situation on the ground.

Victoria’s cheating was a wild goose chase. It was a distraction that she and her mother must have come up with while they committed those atrocities right under my nose.

I had to find out what other things they were hiding and get evidence. We talked for hours, and by the time I stalked out of the bar back to my car, it was well past five pm.

I dialed Abigail’s number, yanking at my tie, feeling incredibly restless. I needed her tonight after everything I just uncovered.