Page 1 of Desperate Victory

Prologue

LAINEY

We’re dying from the moment we’re born, Grandfather told me not long after my fourteenth birthday. I can’t even remember what prompted the comment. It could have been anything really. That had been a difficult year for us. Grandmother had been getting sicker, she’d been forgetting more. Watching the light go out in her eyes haunted me.

Worse, watching the light in Grandfather’s eyes as hers dimmed. “We’re dying from the moment we’re born, sweet girl. You have to remember that. You have to remember that we only get pieces of the people we love. A sliver of their life, a partial print of their soul, the gift of their time. Never mistake time for anything but a gift.”

My heart broke for him. He loved her so fiercely and the feeling had been deeply mutual. Some days, she acted like they were young again, even teased him about being her boyfriend. Other days, she stared through him as if she couldn’t quite imagine who he was.

“Those pieces,” Grandfather told me. “They kindle the fire in us. We keep each other warm. Over the years, your grandmother has been there for me when my temper was too much or my judgment too harsh. She kept me stable, she helped me find a better way. I’ve never been an easy man.”

The wistfulness and pragmatism were so much a part of him that I couldn’t imagine Grandfather being any other way.

“Your grandmother told me over and over, she never asked for easy. She never wanted it. She only wanted me. So yes, this is difficult. But I’m not asking for easy, I’m asking for her and every moment we can have. Some candles… they go out slowly, guttering bit by bit until they extinguish.”

I heard what he wasn’t saying. The unspoken truths sliding under his words. The ferocious love he had for her.

“Your grandmother loved me in spite of my flaws,” Grandfather said. “She made me more human. She kept me honest. She gave me something to fight for… and I wouldn’t be your grandfather without her.”

He loved her so much. I couldn’t imagine loving someone that much. Not at fourteen. Probably not at sixteen either. I’d loved Adam and Ezra for a long time by then, but was I in love with them?

I had no idea. Their light always seemed to smother mine. Their darkness shrouded me and isolated me as much as it protected me. Did they care? Yes. But Adam had been right.

I’d been too young to fully grasp it all. I still needed to grow and to learn and to become myself.

Now? I understood my grandparents on a level I never thought possible. My grandfather would tear the world apart for her, and he’d build it back up again. All she ever had to do was ask.

He had one woman. I have four men.

There’s nothing I won’t do for them. If we have to destroy everything in our path to make our future happen… it will be a pleasure to burn.

Chapter

One

LAINEY

The clip of my heels as I crossed the tiled lobby offered a staccato beat to the morning’s agenda. Karagiani followed in my wake. Bringing him with me had been a choice. The guys needed the peace of mind that I had backup, while I also preferred to know that each of them were not out there running alone.

The list of tasks we needed to accomplish had grown longer, while the window in order to complete them had narrowed even further. I’d chosen today’s outfit with care. Word of my mother’s death was practically front page news for the gossips among us.

The black pantsuit and blazer set the right tone for “mourning,” even if I could barely register grief for Melissa Benedict Reed’s death when almost all of my focus was on Andrea. Where was she? Who was she with? What was happening to her?

Appearances, however, had to be kept. The fact Tally was at a woman’s power breakfast meant this was an ideal location to corner her. King wouldn’t be with her, nor most of her family.

“Miss Benedict,” a familiar voice said, equal parts solicitation and sympathy. It took a moment for me to register the woman approaching with her hand outstretched. It was the salt-and-pepper hair pulled fiercely back from her face and secured into a tight chignon that gave her away.

All hard angles and high cheekbones, Mrs. Johanna Thorpe had been born an Adler, however, I didn’t hold that against her. She’d been a very good friend to my grandmother. I was well-aware that she sent her thoughtful gifts of her favorite flowers and the occasional treat basket though more and more, Grandmother didn’t recognize any of us.

I accepted her offered hand and summoned a wan smile. The part I needed to play as a grieving daughter had some specific requirements. The gloves covered my hands and added to the atmospheric black I wore as did the equally opaque sunglasses. Grief, as with all things, needed to be fashionable.

“Mrs. Thorpe,” I greeted her and tilted my head easily as she leaned in to press air kisses to each of my cheeks.

“Darling girl, what are you doing here? I assure you, everyone would have understood if you skipped the event.”

I lifted my shoulders in the most careless of shrugs. “Mother had many interests, as you know.”

None of which was the power of women entrepreneurs or the development of future leaders. Then again, a large number of the donors in attendance didn’t do more than pay lip service and arrive promptly for the breakfast and the mimosas.