“First off, don’t ever touch me again. My lawyers would eat you alive in court. Second, you should probably clarify things with Lincoln if you’re so sure he’s your property.”

Rage burns in her gaze, and I can see how badly she wants to shred me to pieces with her tongue and her claws, but she reels it in and steps back. Retreating to fight another day, no doubt.

Her expression turns into a creepy mask of calm to blanket the anger, and I realize I made an enemy in Maren Higgins long before this moment.

“It was nice to meet you, Whitney. Next time, I’ll be sure to bring my card so if you ever want to move out of your aunt’s shed, I can find you a place. Maybe the trailer park?”

I smile as sweetly as I’m capable. “Thank you so much for the offer, Maren, but I’m staying here at The Gables, and it’s just too comfortable to consider wanting to leave anytime soon.”

Her mouth pinches before she opens it to retaliate.

“Ms. Higgins?” A spa attendant stands in the doorway to the lounge. “I’m looking for a Ms. Higgins.”

“I hope you enjoy your service, Maren. It was lovely to finally put a face to the gossip. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope I don’t run into you again.”

Maren’s brows deepen into a V as she stalks around me, and I can’t stop the victorious smile that spreads across my face.

That’s right, Maren. I might have been beaten down, but I’m still better at this game than you’ll ever be.

I move to the door to the locker room, but it’s already open. McKinley Riscoff stands in the doorway with a grin on her face and starts a slow clap.

Twenty-Five

Lincoln

The cemetery isn’t my favorite place to go, but when Commodore hung up before I could reply and didn’t answer when I called back, the choice was taken out of my hands.

He beat me here, which isn’t surprising. I park behind his Escalade and climb out of my Range Rover. Commodore’s power chair is parked on the paved path in front of the Riscoff mausoleum.

When I stop beside him, he starts speaking.

“I always expected I’d be in there long before now. Long before my son.”

“I’m sorry, sir. None of us expected things to go the way they have.”

He looks up at me. “Roosevelt passing before me actually made things easier, though, if you want to know the truth.”

“What?”

Commodore lifts a hand to his face and brushes his knuckles over his lips before he replies. “I didn’t want to leave the company to him. I couldn’t.”

“What?” I hate to repeat myself, but the shock of his words has stolen any others from me.

“He couldn’t and wouldn’t protect and preserve the legacy. I knew that a long time ago.” My grandfather glances up at me. “Why do you think I called you home that summer?”