THE EMPIRE OF LIES

THE FUNERAL

The funeral was held on a gray Thursday afternoon at St. Patrick's Cathedral. It seemed like all

of Manhattan had turned out, business leaders, politicians, society figures, and hundreds of

Morrison-Cole employees who'd loved my father.

I stood at the front in a black Armani dress, my mother's hand clutching mine like a lifeline.

She'd flown in from Paris the morning after I called her. Now she sat beside me, elegant even in

grief, her face hidden behind a black veil.

The cathedral was packed. Every pew filled. People standing in the back. The organ played

something somber and beautiful, but I couldn't hear it over the roaring in my ears.

My father's casket sat before the altar, covered in white roses, his favorite.

I couldn't look at it.

Instead, I scanned the crowd. Looking for him.

Robert Cole sat three rows back on the aisle, perfectly composed in a black suit. His face was

appropriately somber. He'd even managed to produce tears during the eulogy.

I wanted to scream at him. To stand up and tell everyone what he'd done.

But I had no proof yet. Just my father's letter and documents I hadn't fully analyzed. If I accused

Robert now, he'd destroy the evidence and me along with it.

So I sat. And I watched. And I planned.

Damien sat beside his father, his face a mask of stone. He hadn't looked at me once since

entering the cathedral. We hadn't spoken since our confrontation at my apartment three days ago.

The priest was saying something about eternal rest and God's mercy, but I barely heard him.

"Would anyone like to say a few words?" the priest asked.

My mother squeezed my hand. "You should go, darling. He'd want you to."

I stood on shaking legs and walked to the podium.

A thousand faces stared back at me. Waiting.

I gripped the edges of the podium and forced myself to breathe.

"My father was..." My voice cracked. I cleared my throat and tried again. "My father was the

best man I knew. He taught me to fight for what I believe in. To never back down. To protect the

people I love."

My eyes found Robert Cole.

"He taught me that loyalty means everything. That family comes first. That you protect your

own, no matter the cost." I paused, letting the words sink in. "He also taught me that there are

people in this world who will smile to your face while plotting your destruction. People who

value money more than human life. People who would kill to protect their secrets."

The crowd shifted uncomfortably.

My mother's hand touched my back gently. A warning.

"My father died because he tried to do the right thing. Because he stood up against corruption.

Because he refused to look the other way when he discovered the truth." I locked eyes with

Robert. "And I promise you, Dad, I won't look away either. I will finish what you started. I will

expose the truth. And I will make them pay for what they did to you."

"Elena," my mother whispered urgently.

But I was done.

I walked back to my seat, my heart pounding, very aware that I'd just declared war.

Robert Cole's expression never changed. But his eyes followed me like a predator tracking prey.

After the service, people filed past offering condolences. Empty words. Meaningless platitudes.

"He was such a good man."

"I'm so sorry for your loss."

"If there's anything we can do..."

I smiled and nodded and said all the appropriate things while my mind calculated my next move.

Then Robert Cole appeared before me.

"Elena." He took my hand in both of his, all warmth and sympathy. "That was a beautiful eulogy.

Michael would be so proud of you."

I wanted to pull away. To spit in his face. To scream that he was a murderer.

Instead, I smiled. "Thank you, Robert. It means so much that you're here."

"Of course. Michael was like a brother to me. I can't believe he's gone." His eyes were

convincingly sad. "If there's anything I can do for you and your mother, please don't hesitate to

ask."

"Actually, there is something." I kept my voice sweet. "I'd like to review the company's financial

records. My father mentioned some discrepancies before he died. I want to make sure everything

is in order."

Something flickered in his eyes. Just for a second. Then it was gone.

"Discrepancies? I'm not aware of any issues. But of course, you're welcome to review anything

you'd like. You're a Morrison, after all. The company is as much yours as anyone's." His smile

widened. "Though perhaps you should wait until you've had time to grieve. These things can be

overwhelming when you're emotional."

Patronizing bastard.

"I appreciate your concern, but I'd prefer to handle it now. My father would want me to stay on

top of things."

"Of course. I'll have my assistant arrange access for you." He patted my hand. "You're so like

Michael. Strong. Determined. Loyal to the end."

Was that a threat?

"Speaking of loyalty," I said carefully, "I was wondering if you knew anything about my father's

investigation. He mentioned he was looking into something important."

"Investigation?" Robert's expression was perfectly confused. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"He said he was gathering evidence about someone at the company. Someone who wasn't being

honest."

"How strange. He never mentioned anything to me." Robert's smile never wavered. "But your

father kept many secrets. Perhaps he was being overly cautious. You know how paranoid he

could be."

Paranoid. He was calling my dead father paranoid.

"He wasn't paranoid," I said coldly. "He was careful. There's a difference."

"Of course. I meant no disrespect." Robert released my hand. "Now, I should let you get back to

your guests. But Elena? Be careful with your accusations. Conspiracy theories can damage

reputations. Including your own."

He walked away before I could respond.

Damien appeared in his place, looking uncomfortable in his black suit.

"Elena."

"Damien."

Silence stretched between us.

"I'm sorry about your father," he said finally. "He was a good man."

"Yes. He was." I studied his face. "Did you know?"

"Know what?"

"About your father. About what he's been doing."

His jaw tightened. "We're not having this conversation here."

"Then where? When? Because your father just threatened me, Damien. At my father's funeral."

"He didn't threaten you. He offered to help, "

"He called my father paranoid. He warned me about making accusations. That's a threat in

Robert Cole language, and you know it."

Damien glanced around at the people milling nearby. "Not here. Meet me tonight. Alone. And

we'll talk."

"Why should I trust you?"

"Because despite what you think, I'm not my father." His eyes held mine. "And because your

father asked me to protect you."

My breath caught. "What?"

"Two days before he died, he called me. He said if anything happened to him, I should watch out

for you. Make sure you were safe." Damien's voice dropped lower. "He knew something was

coming, Elena. And he knew you'd need someone on your side."

"So you're admitting your father did it."

"I'm admitting my father is dangerous. Whether he killed yours..." He shook his head. "I don't

know. But I'm going to find out. With or without you."

"Where and when?"

"The Carlyle. Suite 1408. Ten PM." He stepped back. "Come alone. Don't tell anyone where

you're going. And Elena? Watch your back. If my father killed yours, you could be next."

He disappeared into the crowd before I could respond.

My mother appeared at my elbow. "Who was that?"

"Damien Cole."

"Robert's son?" Her lips thinned. "Elena, you need to be careful around that family."

"I know, Mom."

"No, I don't think you do." She pulled me aside, away from listening ears. "Your father told me

something before he died. About Robert. About what he discovered."

My heart raced. "What did he say?"

"He said Robert Cole was dangerous. That he'd kill to protect his empire. He made me promise

that if anything happened to him, I'd make sure you stayed away from the Coles." Her eyes were

fierce. "All of them. Including Damien."

"Mom, "

"I know you have history with that boy. But his father is a monster, and the apple doesn't fall far

from the tree."

"Damien's different."

"Is he? Or is he just very good at making you believe he is?" She gripped my arms. "Promise me

you'll be careful. Promise me you won't trust him."

I thought about my father's letter. Trust Damien.

But I also thought about the warning in Damien's eyes. The way he'd sided with his father at

every turn.

"I promise," I lied.

Because tonight, I was going to that hotel room.

And I was going to find out whose side Damien Cole was really on.