Rise of the Notorious (22 page)

She let out a long breath that caught in her throat, shutting her eyes and resting her head in the crook of his neck. Her hand trailed over his chest, and she let herself be comforted by the feel of him beside her.

Wyatt ran his hand idly through her hair, giving her time to pull her thoughts together. He knew she would appreciate having the first word. She hated being pestered when she was upset, and the fact that she had come to him meant she had something to say. He had to fight back his own shock and panic over her outburst and accept that soon she would explain herself to him.

When she finally spoke, he carefully noted that there was more sorrow in her voice than anger. That was never a good sign.

“I have no one to trust now,” she murmured, her eyes glassy as she stared unseeingly at the wall. “And of all the people I ever thought I’d come to in a crisis like this, I never expected it would be you. And yet here I am.”

For a moment he said nothing, he only absorbed her words and carefully dissected them.

“Tell me what happened.”

She felt a fresh wave of pain wash over her and bit it back as she continued. “You knew all these years that my grandfather had killed Winston. You kept it secret, because you respected my father’s wishes.”

When he remained silent, she pulled away so she could look into his eyes. He stared back, and the quiet concern she saw steadied her. He had always been cool under pressure, level-headed despite mounting chaos. They were the very traits she normally possessed herself, except this time the turmoil was overwhelming her.

But with his help, she wouldn’t be overwhelmed for long.

“I knew it, too,” she admitted, her face open to the righteousness she felt, the vindication. “I’ve known since I was nine years old.”

Wyatt studied her, not at all surprised by her admission. He knew how close she had been to Cyrus, how much she had trusted the man and admired him. While Wyatt had stood on the opposite side in support of Win, he could still understand why Madison had looked up to her grandfather.

“Did you know about the other murders?” he asked, though he knew the answer. Madison would have never supported the greedy slaughter of one’s own brothers.

“No.” She rested her head in her hands over his chest, keeping her eyes on his. “He trusted me with many of his secrets, but not that one.”

He nodded slowly, reaching out to brush a strand of dark hair from her forehead. “Tell me the rest, sweetheart.”

A fresh tear slipped down her cheek. “Someone let it leak to the press that I knew about the murder. The only people who knew were my family.”

His eyes hardened to cold steel as he processed the news. “Someone inside the family did this?”

“It appears so,” she said quietly. “And I don’t know who.”

Wyatt kept his suspicions to himself. He wouldn’t be able to explain them to her without telling her the truth about Las Vegas, and he knew right now was not the time to reveal that horrid truth. Not when she was already suffering over her family’s betrayal.

“The public now views me as the architect of a murder cover-up who coaxed my own father into suicide. Oh, and I’m also apparently a Vicodin addict,” she said then, a dark laugh escaping her throat at the absurdity of it all. She laid her forehead against her hands as she continued to laugh, more tears falling from her eyes as she did so.

Wyatt only lifted her face, forcing her to look at him. He was remarkably steady as he spoke, and his words shook the dark amusement and fear right out of her.

“You're a fighter, Madison. You always have been.” The confidence in his eyes shattered her, and she clung to it like it was her lifeline and she was perilously close to plummeting to her death. “You’re going to turn all of this to your advantage.”

“How?” she asked, though her eyes widened with hope at the thought. Her own mind began turning as he continued.

“Stage a press conference, go directly to the public and give them the truth. Knock out all the wagging tongues by calling them on their bluff.” He cupped her face in his hand as his lips curved into that trickster’s grin she had always loved. “Make headlines, baby. Show them what you’re made of. What the Vasser
legacy
is made of.”

Inspired, she smiled and shifted forward, kissing him hard and fast on the mouth. She stared down at him, pleased to see the heat come into his eyes as his hands cruised over her body. “Just what am I made of, exactly?”

He grinned again, tightening his hand in her hair and pulling her in until her lips brushed over his. Their eyes held, close and direct, and she nearly shivered from the intensity she saw in his.

“The very best of Heaven and Hell,” he declared, abruptly flipping her so she was beneath him, already arching as he pressed seductively against her. A moan escaped her lips as her head fell back, her heart flooding with fire and dark, dark need. It beat hot and true with her love for him, and she let it fuel her as she kissed him again.

“I don’t know why, I don’t know how, but I still love you, Wyatt.”

His hands tightened their hold on her waist as he grinded against her, his breath catching in his throat at her words. He found he had to rest his head against her forehead to steady himself, as the violent surge of emotion, flames of both relief and desire, consumed him.

“Say it again,” he demanded, eyes flying open to bore into her own. He tore at the blouse she wore, exposing her as she smiled breathlessly and her nails bit into the flesh of his back.

“I love you.”

It was all he had been waiting to hear.

T
hough it went against convention, she dressed in red for the press conference.

   It was a scarlet dress that hugged her curves and had a modest, straight lined collar. The sleeves ran long to her elbows and the skirt rested comfortably at her knees. She’d paired it with her grandmother’s engraved gold locket, which rested between her breasts as a glaring symbol of her heritage and her bloodline.

Madison had left her hair to hang loose to her shoulders, and the light caught the gold in the coffee brown of it as she stood at the podium, her eyes scanning the crowd that stood before her in the ballroom of the hotel. Chairs had been arranged to seat the dozens of people that had shown up, while the camera crews hovered in the sidelines, ready and waiting.

Off to the left of the low level stage, her brothers stood anxiously side by side. Both had advised her against this little spectacle, but she brushed their concerns away. She had a lot to say, and she needed the world to hear it.

Press from all the networks hovered in silence as they waited for her to begin. Cameras flashed off every few seconds, and she made sure to reveal her inner strength of will in each and every shot.

They would not know of her meltdown the night before. Instead, they would see her as she was now, filled with purpose and dedication. She was a beacon of strength, an embodiment of everything good her grandfather had been.

As for his sins…well, she was ready to prove she wasn’t guilty of the same ones.

“Thank you all for coming to our beautiful hotel today,” she began, her smile somber yet graceful. She couldn’t let her true derision of the press to show through; they were going to be her only means of saving herself and her company. “It is my intention to set the record straight on some matters involving myself and the Vasser Hotels that have been circling the gossip mill these last several days.

“I want to begin by stating that, as my grandfather’s successor, I fully intend to restore my family’s good name and reputation in this great country of ours and across the world. We have been a standing testament to the power of the American dream as well as a leader in luxury hotel innovations for over a century, and we intend to stay that way. I have a solid plan that will restore America’s faith in us, all the while giving us the opportunity to prove ourselves worthy of her trust and business.”

She paused, carefully watching the faces of those before her, pleased to see she had their full attention. Her voice took on a hint of anger as she continued, and she made sure to convey the power she felt in every syllable.

“Lately, there have been some allegations made against me that I feel the need to address. I have no intention of allowing myself or my family to be bullied and harassed without countering these claims with facts.

“Firstly, I played no role in my father’s suicide. I guarded him from the public in an attempt to protect him, keeping him housed safely inside the hotel. We will never know if that played a part in his despair, but my best guess and the opinion held by the local police department is that the drugs were the leading factor. Senator Shaw has claimed that I conspired with the dealer and tampered with the drugs, but that accusation is entirely false. Despite what the senator and others would have you believe, I will not resort to killing off members of my own family in order to get what I want. In that way, I am not my grandfather.

“Secondly, I have been accused of being addicted to painkillers.” She held up a piece of paper, lifting it so the crowd could see it. A bunch of pictures snapped off as she did so. “This morning I went to the hospital and had a drug test performed. The results are negative. I hope this puts the matter to rest.”

There was a slow rumble of voices as the crowd murmured to each other, clearly startled at her bold display of confidence. She only smiled to herself as she set the paper down and addressed the crowd once more.

“And lastly, I have been accused of being aware of my grandfather’s role in the death of my great-grandfather since I was a child. I will not deny this claim. In fact, I will elaborate on it.”

The crowd burst into another wave of conversation as reporters suddenly began shouting out questions to her, unable to hold their silence any longer.

“Ms. Vasser, if you knew about the murder, why did you not go to the police?”

“What do you have to say to the rest of your family?”

“How can you expect America to trust you when you kept something like this a secret?”

She only smiled again, remaining cool and composed despite the attack. Perhaps it was her disarming expression that had the reporters backing down, their questions unanswered, as they all anxiously awaited her response.

“As I’m sure you are all well aware, legally I was not obligated to say anything,” she began, her voice steady and self-assured. “I was a child when I learned of the murder, and as such was manipulated into believing it was what was right for the future of my family. I lived my life up until the last few months believing that to be true.

“I loved my grandfather more than any other person on the face of this earth. While all of you make a scandal out of the sins of his life, you easily forget the long list of remarkable feats he accomplished, the jobs he helped create and the strength of character he exhibited on a daily basis while none of you were watching. But I was. I was there, by his side nearly my entire life, waiting patiently in his shadow for the day I could prove myself worthy of his pride.”

She inhaled slowly, her teeth flashing in a smile as she reveled in her good memories of him and let them cloak her. “That day has arrived. I am now the face of the Vasser family. As we enter this new era and break free of some old traditions while carving out our own, my brothers and I, and the rest of my family, will remain united and strong. We
are
America, proof that a man can start with nothing and build an empire, a business that employs thousands of people across the world. And as we move forward with our plan to restructure our company, we will be employing many more and welcoming more to our doors for a comfortable, reliably luxurious hotel stay. I hope you will join us. Thank you.”

She turned to leave the podium just as the crowd erupted. Some of them just watched, stunned speechless. Others scrambled after her, cameramen in tow, as they continued to ask her questions.

She only smiled and politely excused herself, Grant and Linc flanking her protectively and leading her from the ballroom and into a side room away from the crowd. More pictures flashed behind them as Grant shut the door, enclosing them in a small office. He locked the door and then folded his arms.

Linc stared at his sister, who met his gaze determinedly and didn’t let go. For a few moments, neither said anything as they absorbed the weight of what just happened.