Of course, Luc, older and tougher than Rafe, had hated it, and their rivalry developed almost immediately. School, sports, girls...there was always something to compete for. Years later, he suspected there always would be.
After all of these years, he could read his tía well. He knew she thought Luc might be the Fixer. Strange, he thought, that she hadn’t considered that it was him. Over the past few days, he’d come close to telling her several times. But he’d stopped. He wasn’t sure why he wanted her to know. Recognition, perhaps? To be witnessed and revered for saving the day and being the glue that kept the family together? The more he thought about it, the more pompous and stupid he felt. What did recognition matter when Harrison was lying in a hospital bed? Not one damned iota.
Ensuring that everything that was important to Harrison was still there when he woke up, that’s all that mattered.
Gabe patted the other man’s hand and sucked in a deep breath.
“I swear I’ll find out who did this to you. And then,” he said, his voice dropping an octave as rage and determination coursed through his blood, “I’ll make them pay. I’ll make them wish they’d never been born. I’ll fucking nail the bastard who did this, I promise.”
Mariella slumped back into the patio chair, crossed her ankles and let out a long breath. She looked at the computer screen in front of her. The figures and columns blurred the more she stared at them. It was a warm day, and the midmorning sun felt good on her shoulders. The pool looking inviting, and she glanced down at her swimsuit and chiffon wrap. Maybe she’d make time for a dip later. It was the first time she’d sat down in hours. Or was it days? With each moment merging into the next, at times it was impossible to tell. The fatigue and weariness coursing through her body made her bones ache. But she couldn’t sleep. There was too much going on. Too much to do. She had a business to run and a wedding to plan and family to keep together.
Thank goodness she had Gabe to rely on. He really was a godsend. He picked up the slack when she veered off course. He kept her informed about the accident investigation that the police were still treating as suspicious, and she knew he spent as much time at Harrison’s bedside as he could. Certainly more than their biological children did. Not that she blamed them...watching their father look so helpless would be hard.
But she needed to stay focused; she needed to take her mind off the chaos of the past weeks. Most of the morning she’d spent on the telephone, speaking with one medical specialist after another, looking for something or someone to give her hope. Even without Dr. Malone constantly reminding her of the fact, Mariella knew that the longer Harrison lay unconscious, the more the chances of him recovering withered. And she didn’t want to lose him. She didn’t want to live her life without her husband. True, Harrison could be cold and unfeeling at times. And yes, he often spent more time worrying about his business than their relationship. It had been evident from the beginning that he took her loyalty and devotion for granted. But she loved him and knew he loved her, and she wanted him by her side, working their business, raising their children as they’d always done. One day, God willing, they’d be grandparents, and she wanted to have her husband at her side to share those moments.
Of course, first she had to get Elana to the altar!
She knew Elana had doubts, but she didn’t understand it. Thom was a good man. Maybe a little weak, but not in a womanizing, bad businessman kind of way. He was smart and successful and came from a good family...exactly the kind of family that would make a solid merger with the Marshalls. A real estate family. It was good business and what Harrison wanted. So Mariella would make sure Elana did her duty and married Thom. Still, she couldn’t help remembering the way Thom had behaved at the engagement party...not like a man eager to marry the woman he loved. But she had Gabe’s assurance that the media fallout from the party had waned, and now the gossip-hungry public seemed more interested in Elana’s Paris trip. Which was good news.
Sure, Mariella knew it wasn’t exactly a love match. Thom and Elana had been friends longer than they had been lovers. But she believed that friendship was a solid foundation for a successful marriage. Lust and passion faded. Common beliefs and respect mattered more than what occurred between the sheets. Once she was married, Mariella was convinced, Elana would forget all about her silly infatuation with the movie producer. Of course, Mariella suspected her daughter still hadn’t ended things with Jarrod Jones despite being told time and again to do so. But she’d make sure she did. She made it her business to keep tabs on her children. Like Luc and that bratty socialite who’d maneuvered her way into his bed. Her eldest son sometimes showed poor judgment when it came to women. And she suspected that when it came to Rachel, Luc was at the mercy of his body parts below the belt. Certainly, Rachel checked a lot of boxes for a suitable daughter-in-law...but Mariella simply couldn’t take to the girl. She was a little too beautiful, a little too calculating, a little too eager to marry herself a rich, good-looking doctor. But she was also from a high-profile political family. And that had its advantages.
Mariella didn’t have time to worry about that now...she had Elana’s wedding to organize. Yes, she was determined that her daughter would settle down with Thom, raise a family and show the world that she was Marshall with all the Marshall pride and dignity.
Mariella pushed the laptop away and rolled out her shoulders. A massage would be nice, she thought. Something to ease the tension coursing through her system. She grabbed her phone and sent a brief text to her masseuse, asking for the earliest appointment. The cell pinged moments later with a time that afternoon, and she relaxed just a little. It was exactly what she needed and gave her time to sort through emails and her schedule for the next few days. And to work out how to ensure she got Elana to commit to Thom.
She hadn’t heard from Elana or Rafe since they’d landed in Paris, but at least she knew where Elana was and knew that Rafe wouldn’t allow his sister to get into any kind of trouble. She’d seen the tabloids that morning, showing photographs of her two youngest children at a café, laughing and clearly enjoying one another’s company. And she’d kept tabs on Elana’s social media accounts. Everything seemed fine. Plus, Mariella could always depend on her youngest son to keep Elana safe. He was the child of her heart. More like her than either Luc or Elana. Softer. Kinder. A gentle soul. Harrison didn’t understand him. Or approve of his lifestyle. But Mariella knew that Rafe was the most grounded of her children, the one she could rely on, the one who would always do the right thing. He was brilliant and creative, and she was immensely proud of the man he had become.
Maybe in some ways she did favor him above the others, but she couldn’t help it. Rafe wasn’t prone to tantrums like Elana or to arrogant outbursts like Luc. He never asked for anything. He earned his own way and lived his life honestly. Harrison thought him weak, but Mariella knew the truth was the complete opposite. It had taken strength and courage to come out to them when he was younger. He could have hidden his sexuality and not been true to himself. But her beautiful son had wanted more than that. He’d plowed through the gossip and lurid tabloid assassinations and, worse, his father’s disapproval, to live an authentic life. And she was immensely proud of him and all he had achieved. She hoped that one day Rafe would find someone to share his life with...someone solid and trustworthy and not like that despicable chef who’d broken his heart. Ironically, that’s when she’d realized that Harrison would still protect their son, despite his disapproval of Rafe’s life choices. The chef had been spirited away to Paris, away from the tabloids and her son, and Mariella suspected Harrison had played a part in that.
Obviously, the Fixer was involved, too. It made perfect sense. And made her lingering suspicions that Luc was somehow a part of it all curdle around in her subconscious. Luc had the means, the money and the contacts to be part of such a scheme. Luc would do whatever was necessary to garner his father’s
