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A little snarl sounds behind me, and I bite my tongue to stop myself from chastising him.
I may have been afraid of how I would do when cast in this spotlight, but maybe I should have been concerned more about him.
Wendy ignores his outburst, though, waiting for me to continue.
“If he considers your offer, there would be conditions. Ones that are non-negotiable.”
One of Wendy’s slim, dark brows rises. “Who do you think you are to be making demands of me?”
I glance back at Weston, the hard set of his jaw so different from the soft way he looks at me. “I’m the one he listens to.”
And appealing to her need to get through to him is what will give us the upper hand tonight.
Her lips twitch. “Fair enough. So, what are your conditions?”
“My father is out of it, completely, one hundred percent free of any obligations you may have laid on him or would try to in the future. The Rosewoods have been repaid anything that they lost and then some. He bankrupted himself to do that, and they have been made whole. The Barkers will leave him alone. Period.”
Wendy’s gray eyes flick up to meet Weston’s behind me. “That will be up to my brother, since he would be the one here locally.”
Weston tightens his grip on me. “And what exactly would my role be then, sister? You say that would be my decision. Does that mean you wouldn’t be calling the shots anymore? Are you stepping down?”
She gives a little half grin, then turns to look at the fire. “I’ve always loved this fireplace, you know. It’s so beautiful, inviting, and warm. Really the only warm thing in this entire house.” She peers over her shoulder at him, and for a split second, I see a crack in her mask. “Except you.”
My chest tightens as I’m sure Weston’s is at this moment.
I’d love to believe her emotion is true, but this manipulative bitch will use anything to get what she wants.
“I always thought you’d do quite well in Dad’s role. When he chose Ray”—she shakes her head and returns to looking into the flames, shaking her head—“that was his first major misstep.”
Weston growls. “And what was his second?”
“Overlooking me before he died.”
The way she says it sends a chill through my blood.
Leather creaks behind me again as Weston shifts. “And just how did father die, Wendy? I seem to recall you being the only one here at the house with him when it happened. I was far out in the woods taking care of family business.”
I’ll give the woman credit. She remains relaxed, doesn’t react to the question or the accusation underlying it at all.
She turns back to us, her face a completely neutral mask of indifference. “You know he had an accident, fell down the stairs.”
I squeeze my eyes closed and suck in a sharp breath.
An accident, my ass.
All three of us in this room know what she means.
She killed him.
“Why don’t you just say it, Wendy?” Weston sneers. “You killed Ray and then you killed Father. Because you wanted all the power to yourself, and you weren’t going to wait for it.”
Her eyes flash that same onyx that Weston’s do when he’s angry. “You’re damn right I did because I deserved it. After everything I suffered in this house at the hands of that man—”
“I suffered, too, Wendy.”
“Yes, but you let it break you. You let it turn you into the sniveling mess you are now. Why couldn’t you have just stayed strong, done what you were asked and were damn good at?”
“Continue killing people?”
