DANGEROUS INHERITANCE

Chapter 5

Damon arrived in fifty-three minutes.

Sienna watched from her office window as his Aston Martin pulled into the parking garage. Watched him get out, a leather portfolio under his arm. He moved like a man walking to his execution.

Good.

"Security's ready," Marcus said from the doorway. "Say the word and they'll escort him out."

"That won't be necessary."

"You sure?"

"No. But let him in anyway."

Marcus left. Returned two minutes later with Damon.

He looked like hell. Unshaven. Same clothes from the diner. Eyes red-rimmed.

"Sienna." His voice was rough.

"Sit."

He sat down. Put the portfolio on her desk. "I brought everything." Emails. Calendars. Notes from a meeting in October 2010.

"How convenient."

"It's not easy. It is necessary. He bent over. "Someone is trying to kill us." Both of us. And I need you to trust me long enough to find out who.

"Us?" Sienna's chuckle was loud.

"Us?" Sienna's laugh was sharp. "There is no us, Damon. There's you, the son of the man who killed my father. And there's me, the i***t who almost believed you."

"I didn't lie to you."

"No?" She threw the photograph across the desk. "Then explain this."

Damon picked it up. His face went pale. "Where did you get this?"

"Anonymous delivery. This morning. Right before the press leak." She crossed her arms. "October 16, 2010. One day, after your father turned down my father's offer. The same day that the hostile acquisition started.

"I know."

"You were there. Shaking his hand. Smiling."

"I was." Damon set the photo down carefully. "Your father called me that morning. Asked me to meet him."

"Why?"

"Because I'd given him my card the day before. Told him I'd help." Damon opened his portfolio. Pulled out a printed email. "Read it."

Sienna took it.

From: Robert Cross

To: Damon Ashford

Date: October 16, 2010, 7:23 am

Subject: Thank you

Damon,

Thank you for being so kind to me yesterday. Your father has begun the acquisition as threatened. I'm meeting with lawyers this morning, but I want to thank you personally for attempting to help. The investor contacts you provided are reviewing my proposal. There's hope.

Would you have time for coffee? I'd like to discuss options.

—Robert Cross

Sienna's hands shook. "You met him for coffee."

"Yes. At that café on Lexington. We talked for two hours." Damon pulled out another document. "He showed me his legal strategy. I connected him with my attorney. A friend who specialized in fighting hostile acquisitions."

"And the photograph?"

"Your father wanted proof that I was helping him. Said if my father found out, he'd disown me. We took the photo outside my office building to document that I was willing to go against my family." Damon's voice cracked. "He was trying to protect me, Sienna. Even then, even facing ruin, he was worried about what helping him might cost me."

The room was silent except for the hum of the air conditioning.

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Sienna asked quietly.

"Because I didn't know you had the photo. Because I thought—" He stopped. "I thought maybe we could move forward without dissecting every painful detail of the past."

"The past is all we have."

"No. We have right now. This moment. The choice to believe each other or let whoever sent this destroy us."

Sienna looked at the photograph. At her father's smile. At Damon's young face, earnest and determined.

"Who would send this?" she asked.

"Someone who knows it would hurt you. Someone who wants you to hate me."

"That's a short list."

"Is it?" Damon stood. Walked to her window. "Think about it. Who benefits from us being enemies? Who loses if we're allies?"

Sienna's mind raced. The timing was too perfect. The leak happened right after she and Damon had started to trust each other.

"The press leak," she said slowly. "My investigation into you. How would anyone know about that?"

"How many people knew you were investigating me?"

"Marcus. Patricia, my investigator." She paused. "And whoever Patricia talked to while doing the background check."

"Which means dozens of people. Maybe more." Damon turned around to look at her. "Someone's been watching us, Sienna. Following us. "Waiting for the right time to strike."

"But why?"

"I don't know yet. But I intend to find out." He grabbed his portfolio. Started packing up the documents. "I'm going to fix this. The press leak. The rumors. All of it."

"How?"

"Press conference. This afternoon. I'll tell them the truth. That my father destroyed your father's company. That I've been trying to make up for it for fifteen years. That you had every right to investigate me."

"Damon, that'll ruin you."

"Maybe. But it'll clear your name." He met her eyes. "That's what matters."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I—" He stopped. Looked away. "Because you deserve better than to be collateral damage in someone else's game."

The words hovered between them.

Sienna's phone rang. She ignored it.

It rang again.

"Answer it," Damon said.

She picked up. "What?"

"It's Patricia." Her investigator sounded out of breath. "I found something. About the photo."

"What?"

"It was taken from a security camera. From the building across the street from Ashford & Associates. October 16, 2010, 11:47 am."

"Okay. So?"

"So someone accessed those archives three weeks ago. Pulled that specific footage. Cleaned it up. Enhanced it." Patricia paused. "The access came from an IP address registered to Hale Industries."

Sienna's blood went cold. "Vivienne Hale?"

"The one and only."

Damon was watching her. "What is it?"

Sienna put the phone on speaker. "Patricia, say that again."

"Vivienne Hale accessed archived security footage from October 2010. She's the one who sent you the photograph."

"Why would Vivienne—" Sienna stopped.

Vivienne Hale. Miami's most influential billionaire. The woman who'd been around Sienna for months, suggesting business partnerships and hosting events.

The woman who'd introduced her to half of Miami's elite.

Including Damon.

"She introduced us," Sienna said slowly. "At the Morrison auction. She made sure we'd meet."

"She's been orchestrating this whole thing," Damon said. "But why?"

Sienna's mind raced. Then clicked into place.

"My father's patents. The ones your father bought in the bankruptcy auction."

"What about them?"

"They were worth millions. Revolutionary technology. But your father never did anything with them."

"He died six months after the acquisition. Heart attack."

"And the patents?"

"Went to his estate. Which I inherited when I turned thirty." Damon's eyes widened. "Which means—"

"You own technology worth hundreds of millions. Maybe billions." Sienna grabbed her laptop. Started searching. "If someone wanted access to those patents..."

"They'd need to either buy them from me or—"

"Destroy you and acquire them in the aftermath."

The pieces fell into place like dominoes.

"Vivienne's been playing us," Sienna said. "Pushing us together. Then pulling us apart. Creating chaos."

"So she can jump in and pick up the pieces."

"The press leak. The photograph. All of it designed to—"

The lights went out.

Emergency lighting kicked in. Red. Pulsing.

"Sienna?" Marcus's voice came through her office intercom. "We've got a problem. Building's in lockdown. Fire alarm's been triggered."

"It's not a fire," Damon said quietly. "It's her."

As if on cue, Sienna's computer screen flickered to life.

A video feed. Vivienne Hale was sitting in what looked like a penthouse office. Smiling.

"Hello, darlings," Vivienne's voice came through the speakers. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important."

"Vivienne," Sienna said. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Winning." Vivienne's smile widened. "You two have been so predictable. Fall in love, fall apart, fall in love again. It's exhausting to watch."

"What do you want?"

"What I've always wanted. Those patents. Damon's company. Your connections." She leaned forward. "And now, thanks to this morning's press disaster, I'm positioned to take it all."

"We know you sent the photo," Damon said. "We know you leaked the investigation."

"Of course you do. I wanted you to know." Vivienne laughed. "Knowledge without proof is just conspiracy theory. And you have no proof."

"Patricia traced the IP—"

"To a coffee shop three blocks from my office. Where hundreds of people use the wifi daily." Vivienne examined her nails. "You'll find I'm very thorough about covering my tracks."

The screen went black.

The lights came back on.

Sienna and Damon stood in her office, breathing hard, staring at each other.

"We need to move," Damon said. "Now. If Vivienne's making her play—"

"She'll come at us from every angle." Sienna grabbed her phone. "Marcus! Get me everything we have on Vivienne Hale. Financial records, business dealings, everything."

"Already on it," Marcus called back.

Sienna looked at Damon. "We need to work together."

"Agreed."

"Really together. No more secrets. No more lies."

"No more secrets," he promised. "We take her down. Together."

Sienna extended her hand.

Damon took it.

And somewhere across Miami, Vivienne Hale smiled.

The game was just beginning.