his terrible childhood a second thought, but Abigail’s situation was bringing a lot of bad memories to the forefront of his brain.
Turning his gaze back to his father, he continued as if they hadn’t been interrupted. “You were saying I could help with Abigail’s care?” Caution was the name of the game here.
“Sure. You care so much about her—” Armand narrowed his gaze on Blake, a thin smile stretching his lips. “It might be worth something for you to see her.”
Oh boy. “Don’t you have enough money?”
The seconds-long hesitation sent a spear of worry through Blake. Money had never been an issue for his father. Not growing up. And, Blake assumed, not now. But that hesitation made him wonder.
Then his father said, “Not money, son. Freedom.”
A pretty significant bargaining chip for Blake. It always had been. This would not end well. “I’m not following.”
His father paced back and forth across the marble floor, the click of his dress shoes echoing off the vaulted ceiling. Blake’s stomach sank. This was his father’s move whenever he was plotting…planning. Definitely not good.
His father paused, tapping his index finger against his bottom lip. “I think there might be a solution to this situation that will benefit us both.”
Hell, no. “I know how this works. Your solutions only benefit you.”
“It depends on how you look at it.” His father’s smile was cold. “This could definitely benefit Abigail. Isn’t that what you say you want?”
“I never said any such thing.”
“Your actions speak loud enough for you.”
And he’d thought he’d shown remarkable restraint… Remaining silent would keep Blake from incriminating himself further. So he kept his trap shut and his gaze glued to the man before him. Armand fitted in so well with the sterile beauty of the Boudreaux plantation. It was his perfect backdrop.
“Yes, I believe this will definitely work. I’ve waited a long time for this.” Armand nodded as if confirming the thought to himself. His full head of silver hair glinted in the sun from the arched window behind him. “And you’re gonna give me exactly what I want.”
Blake turned away, panic running through him at the thought of going back to being that eighteen-year-old boy who had no defenses against his father. But just when he thought he would stride right over to the door and disappear through it, he caught a glimpse of tangled brown hair and pink leggings at the top of the stairs.
What choice do I have?
He could report Armand for neglect, but Blake doubted that would do more than dent his father’s reputation. Armand knew too many people in high places for any charges to go far. Abigail probably wouldn’t even be removed from the home.
He could take her with him now, but that would probably lead to him being accused of kidnapping…and she’d end up right back home.
He needed more time, more resources…but he could not let Abigail down, even if it meant turning his own life inside out to help her. Who would have guessed this playboy would grow a conscience?
He turned back to his father. “What do you want me to do?”
With a grin that said he knew he’d gotten his way, Armand slipped through the double doors at the far end of the room leading to his office, then returned with a file folder in his hand. Blake didn’t dare look up the stairs and give away Abigail’s continued presence. But he was conscious of her sitting just out of his father’s line of sight.
“There is a woman here in town, Madison Landry. She has something that belongs to me. Something you will retrieve.”
“Can’t you get a lawyer to take care of that?”
“That route has proved…fruitless. Now it’s time for a different approach.”
The rare admission of failure was unheard of from his father, which piqued Blake’s interest. “So you want me to convince a former…what, lover?…to return something to you?” Obviously legal channels hadn’t worked, so his father didn’t have a legitimate leg to stand on.
His father smirked. “Hardly.” He pulled a photograph out of the file. “Have you ever heard of the Belarus diamond?”
“No.” Jewels had never been a major focus for Blake.
“It’s a rare, two-carat, fancy vivid blue diamond that was gifted to our family by a Russian prince before we settled in Louisiana after leaving France. When I was young and foolish, I had the diamond placed into a setting for an engagement ring. For a woman who did not deserve anything nearly so special.”
Well, this was news to Blake. He studied a photograph of a brilliant blue oval-shaped jewel. “You were engaged before my mother?”
“To the daughter of a now nearly extinct family from Louisiana society, Jacqueline Landry. The engagement lasted less than a year.”
“So she dumped you?”
If not, Armand would have taken steps to get back what was his before walking away.
Armand’s back went ramrod straight, as if he were affronted by the assumption. His sigh indicated he had no high horse to sit on. “She made the foolish choice to leave, and took the ring with her. That diamond belongs to our family. It is mine to do with as I wish.”
But not the ring? This wasn’t about a piece of jewelry Armand could hand down to his children. It was about something else… Money? Pride? Surely not after all of these years.
“Then you shouldn’t have given it away,” Blake reasoned.
“I sent several letters through the years demanding the ring back, all of which were returned unopened.”
“From my limited experience with broken engagements, that’s her prerogative.”
His father’s snap to attention told Blake he’d touched a nerve.
“Dammit, this is not the time for your flippant sarcasm. I want that ring and I will have it.” Armand smoothed down his hair and jacket in a move utterly familiar to Blake. Growing up, he’d seen it often after his father’s rages. Blake steeled himself as a wave of unpleasant emotions washed over him.
“You will get it for me, Blake.”
“How? You don’t even know if Jacqueline’s daughter still has it.”
“There’s never been any record of it being found or sold. Which means it’s still in the family’s possession somehow. You will find this woman and get it back from her. With her knowledge or without it.”
“You expect me to convince her to just hand over a priceless diamond that belonged to her mother?”
“You’ll find a way. I’m sure a man like you, one who has seduced and discarded numerous women through the years, will have no problem with this mission. It should be a perfect use for the very few skills you’ve actually cultivated in your lifetime.”
Blake had to admit, that stung a little. Even if it came from his father, who wouldn’t have a nice thing to say about him if he’d used his wealth to become a big-shot CEO, either. Of course, the other skills Blake had developed he kept well disguised behind the facade of his carefree lifestyle. “Those women knew the score going in.”
“This one won’t. And I forbid you to enlighten her.” He narrowed his gaze on his son. “Until afterward, of course. If you want to tell her you stole from her to save your sister, that’s your business.”
Armand handed over a file with all the confidence of a man who would get his way. “Read it. Let me know.”
“I can’t do this.” Could he?
“And