Since 1998

Chapter 13

"Ali!"

The name broke from Lauren like an answered prayer. Seeing her daughter walk through those doors took the strength right out of her legs.

She collided with Allison in the middle of the foyer, holding her daughter tight.

Lauren didn’t care who she was with or what had happened. Allison was home. She was safe.

"Mom," Allison whispered, burying her face in the scent of her mother’s perfume.

Anna crowded in next, all tearful kisses and frantic hugs. For a second, Lauren looked over their shoulders at Devin. She gave him a single, heavy nod—the kind of look that said everything they didn't have words for.

Then the office door opened.

Alex Ainsley stepped into the hall. He didn’t move; he just stood there like a shadow.

"Dad," Allison breathed. Her voice sounded tiny in the huge room.

Alex didn't answer. He stared at Devin, his jaw so tight the bone looked ready to pop. In the silence, the only sound was the frantic thrum of blood in his own ears.

"You're that boy," Alex growled. "From six years ago."

"Yes, Mr. Ainsley. I am."

The air in the room felt like lead. It made the silk wallpaper and the chandeliers feel suffocating.

"Dad, can we just talk?" Allison stepped forward. "Please. I knew you’d be angry, but just listen. It’s not what you think."

Alex didn’t listen. He hated messes. He hated anything that didn't fit into his perfect, controlled world. He reached behind him and pulled the gun he’d kept ready.

Click.

The sound of the hammer c*****g back was deafening.

"What did you do to my daughter?" Alex demanded. The barrel was a dark, empty eye pointed straight at Devin’s heart.

Allison didn't think. She threw herself in front of Devin, her small frame a fragile shield. "Dad! Stop!"

"Alex, are you insane?" Lauren’s voice cracked. She reached out, her fingers shaking. "Put that goddamn gun down!"

"Move, Allison," Alex said. His voice was pure ice. "Guns don't kill people. Fathers do."

"No! Dad, please!"

Devin didn't yell. He didn't run. He reached out and firmly moved Allison behind him. He stepped forward until he was almost touching the barrel.

"Mr. Ainsley."

The mansion held its breath. Lauren looked like a statue. Anna was a ghost in the doorway. Devin’s voice was a steady blade in the silence.

"I know you won't pull that trigger. To you, I'm just some kid. But I'm standing here anyway. So let’s talk. Man to man."

Time slowed. Alex’s hand shook, just a tremor, but it was there. He looked into Devin’s eyes and saw a terrifying kind of calm. It was the look of a man who had already lost everything and had nothing left to fear.

Slowly, the barrel dipped toward the floor.

"Oh, God. Thank you, Alex!" Lauren rushed him, burying her face in his shoulder as the adrenaline broke into sobs.

Devin took a long breath—the first one that didn't feel like his last.

"Thank you for hearing me out, Mr. Ainsley. Let us explain—"

"Get out," Alex warned, his voice low and jagged. "Before I change my mind, I don't need an explanation from you."

Alex didn't look back. He turned, walked into his office, and slammed the oak door. The sound echoed through the house like a final gunshot.

Lauren exhaled, looking at them with tired eyes. "Just let him go," she whispered. "I'll handle him. Go, Devin. Before he comes back out."

"I'll go, Mrs. Ainsley." Devin looked at Allison. His gaze lingered a second too long. "Allison. Anna."

"Take care, Devin," Allison whispered.

Lauren walked him to the door. "Thank you for bringing her home," she said softly. "I'm sorry for this. I'll talk to him."

"I understand."

Devin left, but he didn't go home. He went to the beach. He found a mob.

"Excuse me. Let me through. This is my house!"

The second the reporters saw him, they swarmed.

"He's here!"

"Mr. Austin, a moment?"

Flashes exploded in his face. He was speechless. By the time the news hit the stands, his face was everywhere.

Back at the mansion, Anna burst into the room with a newspaper. "Allison! Look! It's Devin!"

Allison stared at the headline: ARCHITECTURAL MIRACLE: Glass House Survives Typhoon.

"So this is the 'glass house' you were talking about," Anna said. "He's famous."

Allison’s heart twisted. "Let's go, Anna."

"Where? The beach?"

"No. I’m going to give my savings to the families who lost everything in the storm."

"Cool. Doing the Good Samaritan thing?"

In his office, Alex stared at the same paper. He said nothing. Then a visitor arrived.

Ben Austin walked in.

Lauren froze, nearly dropping a family vase. But Ben wasn't alone. He was beaming, his eyes locked onto Lauren.

Alex stepped out of his office, his brow furrowed.

The time had finally come.