Page 114 of Bombshell

“You think you can just show up, flashing your bank account, and take whatever you want?” he asks. “I have news for you: I’m a MacLaine. I don’t just have money. I have power. People know who I am. They listen to me. They do whatever I tell them.”

“God, you sound like our father,” I say, wondering when my big brother became so little. “He’d be proud.”

“And you!” He turns on me next. “He’d be disappointed in you. This isn’t over. I will keep you two in the courts until she’s eighteen if I have to.”

“We’re not giving up,” Sterling starts.

“No,” I stop him. “No, we won’t. We aren’t going to do that to her. We’ll figure something out, but we have to make the right choice for Ellie.”

“Adair, she’s our daughter,” Sterling says, searching my face for clues to my change of heart.

Behind him, Felix is watching all of us, his face carved into solemn relief. Our eyes meet for just a moment, and then he tilts his head so slightly no one else would notice. It’s a message. I’m doing the right thing. I’m doing the hard thing. I never had to look for someone to love after Sterling left. I had her. But loving someone means always doing what’s best for them, even when it breaks your heart.

“I know,” I say sadly. “I’ve thought for years that I didn’t fight them more because they kept me under foot. They made me sign agreements. They threatened to ruin me financially, socially. I never really cared about all of that, but I couldn’t risk not seeing her. I couldn’t risk losing her. Or that’s what I thought. Don’t you see?” I wait for him to nod, but he just stares at me in confusion. “They’ll tear her apart limb by limb until they break her, too. I don’t want that. I love her too much. If...if…”

I know what I have to do now. I know I have to let go.

“We’ll do it the right way,” Sterling says, speaking only to me now like we’re the only people in the room.

I force a smile, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “MacLaines don’t fight fair. They don’t care who they hurt. If they won’t protect her, I will. That’s my job. I’m her mother. I have to keep her safe.” I whip around to Malcolm. “But you have to do something about your wife. You can’t trust her. She’s—”

The wail of a fire alarm cuts me off mid-sentence before I can say crazy.

24

Sterling

Adair runs toward the stairs as soon as the alarm sounds, but I throw an arm around her waist. It takes effort to haul her outside, but as soon as I see smoke plumes wafting across the staircase, I know I have to. She screams and kicks, yelling Ellie’s name. I’m vaguely aware of the police officer calling for back-up, of Malcolm MacLaine dialing his security detail like they’ll know how to handle this, of Felix grimly joining me.

“Ellie!” Adair sobs.

“Jami, can you hear me? Are you on your way out?” The officer radios his partner, but no response comes.

Thirty seconds has passed. That’s too long.

“Stay here,” I order Adair, whose mouth drops open to argue. I cut her off. “Don’t argue with me, Lucky. I’ve been through worse. I will get her out.”

“I’m coming with you,” Malcolm says. The surprising display of masculinity stops me in my tracks.

“I don’t need more people in there to get out. Let me handle this. Trust me.” I don't wait to argue more with any of them, but before I reach the front door, Adair lets out a blood-curdling scream that vibrates in my bones.

I swivel to find her pointing at the roof in horror while she screams Ellie’s name. Felix wraps his arms around her.

“They’re up there,” he yells, his words nearly drowned out by Adair but clear on his lips.

I run inside, knowing exactly where to go. Smoke is billowing through the entry now. Windfall is going up like a tinderbox. It’s burning impossibly fast, the flames already reaching the plants in the atrium as I race inside and look for a swinging door I never expected to walk through again. It feels like a thousand lifetimes have passed. The stairs leading up to the roof feel even more narrow than I remember. The walls seem to slant in on me, the air thickening until it's hard to breathe. The door at the top is shut and when I try the knob, it’s jammed. I shove at it until it gives way.

Ginny’s standing near the small half-wall that runs along the roof’s perimeter, Ellie squirming in her arms. She turns at the sound of the door opening, her eyes catching the light from the dancing flames in the stained glass dome that rises in the center of the landing.

“We’re not going anywhere,” she says, sounding oddly calm. “This is our home. No one can make us leave.”

“You can stay, but I need to take Ellie with me.” I approach her slowly, calculating how much time I have based on how quickly the fire is moving.

“She was supposed to be mine,” Ginny explains, her hands gripping my little girl so fiercely that she cries out in pain. “He promised me. Angus. Malcolm never kept his promises, but Angus did. He promised me a baby when I couldn’t have one. I just had to pretend. No one could know she wasn’t a MacLaine.”

“She is a MacLaine,” I say, taking another step toward her. I can feel heat radiating off the glass dome. That’s not a good sign.

“No, she’s not, but Adair didn’t know that. No one did, but Angus.” Her voice is distant—far away and lost in memories. “And Anne, of course. Anne told me. Her greatest shame. She’d written it all down somewhere. Angus could never find it. Never prove it, but he knew. It’s so hard pretending a bastard is yours. He did it well. Adair never deserved his kindness. If Adair had only been like her mother... Her mother was a survivor. Not like Adair. Not like me.”