Chapter 4
The Billionaire's Dirty Laundry
KINLEY
~Come in here, Kinley. I want to show you something.~
~I wanna go in the house. Iâm cold. My friends already went in. Weâre gonna make popcorn and watch movies.~
~Donât you want your birthday present?~
~My present is in the pool house?~
~Yes, beautiful girl. I have something special for youâ¦~
âKinley?â
âNo!â I screamed. âStop!â
âItâs okay, Kinley,â a soft voice whispered. âYouâre safe.â
I sat up, relief washing over me when I realized I was in my car. And I wasnât eighteen. I was thirty-four, and my little sister was sitting in the passenger seat, concern etched on her beautiful face.
âSorry,â I said, laughing nervously. âI forgot the code you gave me for the gate. I figured Iâd just wait here until you guys arrived, and I mustâve fallen asleep.â
âBullshit.â
I gasped. âExcuse me? And I thought you didnât like swearing.â
âI donât. But there are situations that warrant the use of profanity, and this is one of those times. I donât like it when people lie, even if they have a valid reason.â
âWhereâs Harland?â
âI told him to proceed up to the house.â
âWhy?â
âBecause you needed help, and his presence wasnât warranted.â
âAnd he actually listened to you?â
âHe argued at first.â
âIâm sure he did. I never thought Iâd see the day Harland would cave to a twelve-year-old. He certainly never did when I was your age. And he was only a year older than me.â
âI know why youâre sitting out here crying,â she said bluntly.
âIâm not crying.â
She tilted her head and rolled her eyes, looking like a preteen girl for the first time since I met her four hours before.
âFine. I was crying. I just lost my mother. Iâm allowed to have a breakdown.â
âThatâs not why youâre crying.â
âLook, Ellie,â I sighed. âI really appreciate your concern. Itâs sweet. But I have a lot of unhappy memories here, and itâs not gonna be easy for me to step back onto this estate.â
âHeâs not here. He canât hurt you.â
I turned to study the young girl sitting next me. Her eyes conveyed empathy and understanding.
There was no way she could possibly know why I ran away. Orland Hollingbrook wouldâve taken that secret to his grave. And my mother was probably still in denial. Who would confess something like that to a kid anyway?
âWho are you talking about, Ellie?â
âFather. Heâs dead.â
âYes, he is.â
âSo thereâs nothing to fear here.â
âWhat makes you think I was afraid of your dad?â
âI know why you ran away. Father wrote letters and hid them all over the house.â
I blinked rapidly, sucking in a big gulp of air while I fought the crushing weight bearing down on my chest.
How dare he? It wasnât enough that he ruined my life, he had to write about it and leave it lying around the house for my little sister to find? What if one of the staff found his letters and sold them to the tabloids?
âIâm sure most of the stuff he wrote wasnât true,â I said, praying she would just drop this. âHe was suffering from dementia.â
âIâve spent hours scouring the house, endeavoring to find them all before someone else does. But as you know, the house is massive. And Father never threw anything away.
âEvery cupboard, drawer, and closet is loaded with stuff. I drew up a floor plan and set up search grids, but Iâve only covered twenty percent of the main house. And that doesnât include the attic.â
âIâll help you.â
âDoes that mean youâre going to come inside?â she teased.
âYes.â
âIâm glad, Kinley.â
âWill you hold my hand?â
âOf course,â she said, taking my hand and squeezing it. âThatâs what sisters are for.â
âDid you tell Harland about the letters?â
âI did. But I didnât tell him why you ran away.â
âThank you.â
âI think you should tell him.â
âI donât think thereâs anything to be gained from doing that.â
âYou never know.â
âPlease donât tell him, Ellie.â
âI would never do that.â
I turned the key and my old engine rumbled to life. âPut your seat belt on.â
âYou need a new car, Kinley.â
âWhy? This one runs fine.â
âItâs old,â she chuckled.
âIt got me here.â
The gate was already open. Harland hadnât closed it.
I drove between the concrete pillars, my heart pounding against my rib cage like a little fist, my eighteen-year-old self screaming at me to turn around.
She didnât want to come back to this place. But thirty-four-year-old me knew I had no choice. Maybe this was exactly what I needed. To face the past head-on. Running away certainly hadnât erased the memory of what he did.
I shuddered when the iron gates clanged closed behind us. âYour dad finally joined the twenty-first century, I see,â I commented when I noticed Ellie was controlling the gate with her phone.
âOnly when it came to security.â
The trip down the driveway ended way too soon, the sprawling stone mansion rising from the dense forest like a two-hundred-year-old monster, waiting to rip me from my car and imprison me inside its thick walls.
âItâs just a house, Kinley,â Ellie whispered.
âWhere should I park?â
âThereâs no room in the garage. Just park over there beside Harlandâs car.â
âI donât think Harland is going to be okay with leaving his fancy car outside.â
âHe allowed me to eat McDonaldâs in it. I donât believe he wouldâve done that if he was super anal about his wheels.â
I laughed.
âWhat?â
âYouâre funny, Ellie. Most of the time, you talk like a wise adult. But I like it when you say things and make faces more consistent with a twelve-year-old.â
âFather always demanded I act like an adult. I was his business partner, and he wanted me to act in an appropriate manner.
âBut when I wasnât busy helping him run his empire, I would go online and chat and hang out with kids my age. It was fun.â
âDonât you go to school?â
âNo. I already graduated from high school, and Iâm working on my undergraduate degree in business and finance.â
âReally? Are you a genius?â
âYes.â
âFor real?â
âYes. I have an IQ of 181.â
âThatâs amazing, Ellie.â
âI owe it all to my father.â
Alarm bells clanged in my brain, dread seeping into my gut. He wouldnât. Not to his own daughter.
I stared at my little sister. How do you ask a twelve-year-old something like that? But I had to know. It was important.
I refused to be like my mother, who preferred to stick her head in the sand and ignore things that threatened to disturb her life. Ellie was my responsibility now.
I parked my car next to Harlandâs and cut the engine. âEllie?â I asked gently, swallowing past the lump in my throat.
âYes?â
âI need to ask you a really important question.â
âNo.â
âI canât ask you a question?â
âI know what you were going to ask me. And the answer is no. Never. I wouldnât hide something like that.
âMy father, the one who raised me, was a decent, kind man. He treated me with nothing but respect. The man who wrote those letters, the one who did the things he confessed to, wasnât the same man I knew.â
I jumped, smoking my temple off the corner of the rearview mirror when Harland rapped on the window.
âAre you okay, Kinley?â Ellie asked.
âYes,â I grumbled, rubbing my head before turning to glare at Harland. He grabbed the handle and jerked the door open forcefully. âBe careful, idiot! You almost pulled the handle right off!â
âWhy are you guys sitting out here?â
âWe were talking.â
âAbout what?â
âNone of your business.â
âEverything to do with Ellie is my business. Dad left her to both of us.â
âSheâs not an object, Harland.â
âI never said she was, Fire Crotch.â
âStop calling me that!â
âMaybe I donât wanna.â
âYouâre an asshole, Harland Hollingbrook.â
âJust get out of the fucking car, Kinley.â
âEnough!â Ellie bellowed. âStop fighting!â
I shoved Harland out of the way, climbing out of my car before I got yelled at again by the kid.
Harland was a big guy, but I caught him off guard. He stumbled backward, his heel catching on the edge of a loose paving stone before he toppled into the rose bushes.