believe you.’
Again he ignored her strangled comment. ‘I also own the harbourside apartment and the yacht.’ He paused as he gave her an inscrutable look before adding, ‘However, I have decided to allow your father to keep his Mercedes and Jaguar; I have enough cars of my own.’
‘How very magnanimous of you,’ she managed to quip caustically. ‘Is there anything else in the Mercer household you think you now own?’
He smiled a hateful smile that chilled her already tingling flesh.
‘I don’t just think I own the Mercer package, Bryony—I do own it.’
He reached for a sheaf of papers that was lying on her father’s desk behind him and handed them to her. She took them with fingers that felt like wet cotton wool, her tortured gaze slipping to where her father’s signature should have been but very clearly wasn’t.
Each document was the same.
The new owner of everything to do with the Mercer millions was now Mr Kane Leonidas Kaproulias. The houses, the business, the investments, the yacht…
She let the papers flutter to the floor as she stood up on watery legs. ‘I don’t understand…how did this happen? My father would never let things get to this state! He’d rather die than see you take everything.’
The loathsome smile was back. ‘Actually, he was quite agreeable to it all in the end.’
‘I don’t believe you. You must be blackmailing him or something, for he would never allow you to—’ She stopped as she thought about her father’s recent behaviour. Always a stressed-out control freak, he’d definitely worsened of late. Christmas had been a tense affair, his constant harping on at her had seen her make up an excuse to leave a couple of days early, even though she’d felt guilty at leaving her mother.
Had Kane set him up to destroy him?
He certainly had all the motives one would need to implement such a plan, for even though her father had sponsored Kane’s private academy education as a goodwill gesture he’d still treated him appallingly during the time he’d lived on the estate, when his mother had been employed to do the cleaning.
And not just her father. Her brother, Austin, had been relentless in his bullying at times, not to mention her own reprehensible behaviour, which still made her cringe with shame whenever she allowed herself to think about it…
‘I wouldn’t exactly describe it as blackmail.’ He cut across her thoughts. ‘Suffice it to say I persuaded him to consider his somewhat limited options. And, as I expected him to, he took the easy way out.’
‘The easy way?’ She gave him an incredulous look. ‘You call handing over several million dollars worth of assets the easy way out?’
‘It is when you’re facing a lengthy term in prison.’
She stared at him speechlessly, her heart ramming against her sternum until she was sure it was going to jump out and land at his feet.
‘Prison?’
‘Jail, the slammer, penitentiary, crim-coop, calaboose…’
‘I know what a bloody prison is, for God’s sake,’ she snapped. ‘What I don’t understand is why my father deserves to go there. What’s he supposedly done? Forgotten your birthday?’
‘Now that would indeed be a crime, considering my number five reason for being here.’
She mentally backtracked: one was the Mercyfields estate, two was the business, three was the yacht, four the city apartment…
‘What are you talking about? You’ve got it all; what more is there?’ she asked.
‘I’m surprised you haven’t guessed by now. It is, after all, the one thing I’ve wanted ever since the day my mother and I walked through the Mercyfields gate.’
‘Revenge…’ She almost whispered the word, so deep was her panic. ‘You’re after revenge…’
His dark eyes never once left her face. ‘Now, what form do you think that revenge might take, sweet Bryony?’
She injected her look with as much venom as she could. ‘I have no idea how the mind of a sociopath works; I’m afraid you’ll have to tell me.’
He laughed, a deep rumble of amusement that sent ice through her veins. ‘How ironic you see me in that way.’
‘How else could I see you?’ she asked. ‘You were sent from Mercyfields with a criminal record for damage to property and unspeakable cruelty to animals, or have you forgotten about Mrs Bromley’s spaniel?’
His eyes hardened as they burned down into hers. ‘I did not commit that particular crime. The property damage, however, was an unfortunate outburst of temper on my part and I took full responsibility for it.’
She gave a derisive snort. ‘So you’ve grown a halo over the last ten years, have you? What a pity I can’t see it.’
‘You only see what you want to see,’ he said with bitterness. ‘But there will come a time when you’ll have to face the brutal reality of the truth.’
‘I find it highly entertaining to hear you mention the word truth as if you and it are regular acquaintances,’ she tossed back. ‘So tell me, Kane. What instrument of torture do you have planned? I take it I’m the one who has to pay the price, otherwise why would I be summoned to appear?’
‘Your father has an unfortunate habit of ordering people about, but I hope that he will soon see the error of his ways. I thought it in your best interests for you to be here this afternoon. I did not ask him to summon you.’
‘Can we get straight to the point of this?’ she asked with increasing impatience. ‘I’m getting a little tired of all the word games.’
Kane drew in a breath as he studied her incensed features. She thought the worst of him and for now that suited him. He couldn’t afford to let her find out his real motives in coming here today.
He’d waited a long time for a chance to confront Owen Mercer. Ten years of working unspeakable hours to climb up from the depths he’d been tossed into. Rage had simmered in his blood for the last decade as he’d waited for the opportunity to strike back.
Austin Mercer had met his destiny and, as much as Kane knew the family still grieved their loss, he didn’t feel a microgram of regret that the only male Mercer heir was now dead and buried.
Kane’s mother, Sophia, on the other hand, had died before he could provide her with the things he’d so wanted to give her in return for all the sacrifices she’d made.
All the filthy sacrifices Owen Mercer had made her make.
He watched Bryony’s struggle to keep cool under pressure and privately admired her for it. Her father had caved in like the cowardly bully he was, but Bryony was a fighter and he still had the scar to prove it.
She was even more beautiful as a young woman than she’d been as a teenager. Her figure was slim and she moved with the easy grace of someone well trained in the art of classical
