Rise of the Notorious (20 page)

“I know, I’ve been avoiding the both of you,” Lynette said tiredly as she sat down, her hands interlacing in her lap. She stared down at them, unable to meet his eyes. “I needed some time away from New York. Just for the weekend, then I need to go back.”

“What for, honey? You having troubles at the studio?” he asked, sitting back in his chair casually. Behind them, birds darted through the trees in the garden, cheerful at the warmth of spring. It was a sound that normally made her happy, but today it just added to her misery.

She looked up at her father, fighting to keep the emotion from her face. Despite her attempts, her sadness shone through in her lake blue eyes. “What you said about Linc’s sister was nothing short of deplorable. And he told me what you said about Morgan, about how you plan on going public with the connection between Morgan’s father and the Vasser family. Why are you involving yourself like this? It’s only making you look petty and desperate.”

Shaw sighed, then looked at his daughter with pity. “I went public with the information on Madison Vasser because it
is
the truth, pumpkin. The source was able to confirm it with the dealer who provided the drugs to Win. And when they came to me with the truth, too afraid to go public with it for fear of repercussions, I knew I had to act. It has nothing to do with Morgan. I was just doing my duty as a public servant.”

Lynette paled, unsure if she believed him. “How can you be sure the source was telling the truth? Who was it? Someone within the family?”

“Now, honey, you know I can’t tell you that,” Shaw chuckled, reaching out to pat her hands sympathetically. “You’ll just run on back and tell your little boyfriend. I can’t risk my source’s confidence that way.”

“So then what about the article in the
New York Times
yesterday, the one claiming Madison is addicted to painkillers. Was that your doing as well?”

Surprise flashed over his face. “I hadn’t heard about that.”

“So it wasn’t you?” Lynette shook her head, hoping to God he was telling her the truth. She wanted to believe that he wouldn’t lower himself to something so petty…

“No, no it wasn’t,” Shaw mumbled, thoughtfully leaning back in his chair again.

“Could it have been your source? Maybe they decided to go to the press on their own this time?”

“I don’t think so. My source was adamant about not wanting to be tied to the drug accusation. It’s important for my source’s safety that the dealer remains unknown.” Shaw frowned, scratching his chin. “No, I’d say it’s someone else entirely who went to the paper with that information.”

Lynette buried her face in her hands, feeling lost. She believed her father, though she was still angry with him for what he had done. But knowing he wasn’t behind the most recent attack gave her some measure of comfort while at the same time raised even more questions in her mind.

“My intention is not to hurt the Vasser family or Linc, Lynette,” Shaw said then, watching her closely until she looked at him. She saw the honesty in his expression, and his eyes softened the way they always did when he felt sorry or hurt. “Listen to me when I tell you this. I spoke out about the suspected connection between Madison Vasser and her father’s suicide because I felt the need to protect you. If she really is as dangerous as I assume she is, then I needed you to know. And since you won’t return my phone calls, this was the only way I could get your attention.”

Lynette’s throat tightened as he continued, “I told you before that hell is coming to the Vassers. It was my colorful way of reminding you of the hell storm they’ve gotten themselves mixed up in. I wish you would distance yourself from it, but I know you won’t. You’re as stubborn as your old man.”

A laugh managed to find its way out of her, though she felt so ashamed. She had been so brash to side against him, though her conscience had told her time and time again that he wasn’t this evil man she had come to see him as. He was her father and always would be.

“And in regards to Jack Morgan…well, I’m only out to expose what he’s so eager to bury,” Shaw reasoned, reaching for her hand again. “The public has a right to know about his father.”

“What about the Vassers?” Lynette asked.

“With the way things are going, I doubt this news is their biggest worry right now, Lynette.”

She nodded, acknowledging he was probably right. “Linc wants me to marry him, daddy.”

Shaw froze, stunned by her words. “Isn’t it a bit soon to be talking marriage?”

“I love him,” she told him, trying to hide the tears that suddenly leaked from her eyes. She welcomed his arms when he reached out to hold her.

“Then why are you crying?”

Lynette choked back a sob, leaning against her father’s chest. “He left me. That’s the main reason I’m here. I couldn’t stand being in the city anymore.”

“Maybe this is for the best, pumpkin,” he began, rubbing his hand over her back. “He needs to focus on his family right now, and you have your dancing. I think you should stay for the week and take some time to clear your head in the Carolina sunshine.”

She stayed silent, knowing in her heart what he was trying to do. He still did not want her to be with Linc, and while he wouldn’t come outright and say it, the truth was evident in his voice.

But she wasn’t going to give up so easily. In two days time, she’d go back to New York and find some way to contact Linc. She’d apologize, tell him what she had learned from her father, and then they could move on. She would not lose this battle, not when she still had enough vigor left in her for a fight.

R
aoul left work like he always did, slipping out of the employee entrance on the east side of the building. He flipped up the collar of his black leather jacket in an attempt to keep out the chilly night air, grumbling under his breath in Spanish as he did so.

Nearly a decade of living in the city and he still wasn’t accustomed to the lingering winter frost that held on long after the last snow fell. Some years mother nature was kind to the city and blessed her with warm, Atlantic air. Other times, nature turned a vindictive eye on the Big Apple and shut her down with a coldness that rattled the bones.

Already a proud pessimist, Raoul made no secret of his distaste of the weather. Even when there was no one around to hear it, he still griped and complained simply for the sake of venting his ever erupting volcano of frustration.

It was a habit that chased away most people, leaving him with few friends and little family that wanted anything to do with him. But, as with most people of a more prickly nature, less was more when it came to social obligations and the situation suited him just fine.

All he needed in his life was food. It was his passion, his craft, his
soul
. As long as he had a kitchen to work in and people to feed, he was content. If the world came crashing down around him, he would be the first to proclaim
Let it burn!
as long as they still came to eat.

Perhaps it was ironic then, that the world
did
appear to be crashing down around him, and he was not able to handle the disaster as well as he had hoped.

Madison was suffering, and it pained him to see it. He despised almost every member of that family, and seeing the way they used and abused her was driving him mad. Did they not see how capable she was? Could they not put aside their own agendas and understand her genius, her creativity, her ambition?

It appeared the only Vasser who
had
known of her true value and worth was Cyrus, the murderous son of a bitch. Now he was dead, and all he had done was leave Madison and the others with a scandal that would very likely ruin them before it was over.

He grunted bitterly as he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, the stress and indignation of it all mauling him like a rabid dog. Around him, the dark alleyway glistened with rain that had fallen hours earlier, and he grimaced at the musty smell it left hanging in the air.

Madison wasn’t listening to him and hadn’t been for awhile now. Instead, she was letting herself fall into a trap, not only with the press and her family, but with Wyatt Bailey. As far as Raoul was concerned, there was no one left on her side except himself. No one else cared about her well-being like he did, and clearly no one saw the danger she was in.

Not only to her reputation, but to her life.

His attempts to help her had failed. Although he didn’t want to, it appeared he may have to step up his efforts.

He continued down the alley, only to spot a dark figure approaching him from the busy street ahead. The man headed straight for him, and when the dim, orange light of a nearby security lamp exposed the man’s face, Raoul’s scowl deepened.

“The snake rises from the grass at last…” He sneered, his dark eyes taking in the trim and tidy business suit of Madison’s cousin, also his former boss.

Duke managed a tight smile. “I love the colorful way you describe things, Raoul. It’s very…European of you.”

Raoul crossed his arms, saying nothing.

Duke chuckled before speaking again. “Has Mr. Bailey come by to talk with you yet?”

“That son of a bitch knows if he comes sniffing around my kitchen that he will not leave with his head,” Raoul snapped, murder flashing in his eyes.

“Such violence…” Duke mused, eyebrows raised. “It appears he intends to stay for awhile…I suspect he’s fucking my cousin again.”

Raoul’s hands clenched over his forearms, disgust and disapproval flashing over his face. “I have tried to warn her, to keep her away from him. She doesn’t listen.”

“I told you before, if he decides to go all noble and tell her about what happened in Vegas, we will find ourselves in one hell of a predicament,” Duke reminded him. “But since he has not told her the truth yet, I doubt he ever will.”

“He’s afraid she won’t believe him.” Raoul managed a dark grin, the dim light shadowing the lines of his face. “She still loves him, but her hatred and distrust is stronger.”

Duke nodded, suddenly thoughtful. “It surprises me that you followed her here to New York, and yet you didn’t take her. All these years, and yet you still serve her like an obedient puppy.”

Raoul’s temper simmered dangerously. “I only want to protect her. She is my family.”

“No, she’s
my
family.” Duke’s smile turned into a grimace. “But given the circumstances, I’d gladly get rid of her.”

“Giving up is not an option. She will fight you to the death,” Raoul said with full confidence, stuffing his hands back into his pockets and pushing past Duke to make his way to the street. He mumbled curses under his breath as he went, only to freeze as Duke called out to him.

“In the end, she will have no choice.”

Raoul grit his teeth and shut his eyes, fighting back the urge to beat the man to a bloody pulp for everything he was, everything he stood for. He restrained himself and continued to walk, disappearing into the crowd that walked the streets.

“I’m so sorry
to bother you like this.” Lynette stepped into Quinn’s quaint apartment awkwardly. “I just didn’t know where else to go.”

“Hey, it’s okay. That’s what friends are for.” Quinn smiled good naturedly, motioning toward her hand-me-down plaid sofa in shades of chocolate and burnt orange. It was one of the few pieces of furniture in the tiny living room, accompanied only by a stained, oak coffee table and a T.V. stand with no T.V. on it. Quinn had instead placed a bouquet of silk sunflowers, bright and sunny, in its place.