Backroom Book Novels & Stories

He was obviously enjoying the show. Just then, the waiter came in. "Ms. Torrey, please follow me. Otherwise, if that gentleman returns, it'll be trouble." Right. Who knew when Brian might come storming back? Ariana nodded. "Sorry to bother you." "Please, don't mention it." The waiter guided her through a side corridor. It was a common feature of discreet business hotels like the Evergreen. They were designed with hidden paths for high-profile guests to exit quietly. They reached an exit. William's car drove her around to the front.

At two in the morning, my sister, Paige Boyce, paid men to smash up my barbecue stand. I fought to make them stop, ignoring the embers that scorched blisters into my skin as they landed. It was the first time in my life I'd ever raised my voice at her. "After Mom and Dad died in that plane crash, this stand paid for four years of your college education and helped you become a flight attendant for Golden Crest Airlines," I said. "Are you really going to destroy the only thing keeping us alive?" Something flickered in her eyes, a flash of reluctance, but she steeled herself and scoffed. "I've told you a hundred times to get rid of this dump of a stand, and you never listen. Do you want m

Later, I learned from reading between the lines that Sean hadn’t ended up with Ashley after all. Perhaps his indecisiveness had made her feel insecure. When he refused to give her the official title she wanted, she took matters into her own hands. She colluded with a rival company to steal critical Roth Group trade secrets and embezzled a large sum of funds. The Roth Group suffered a heavy blow. Its stock once hit the limit-down, and even though it recovered later, the damage was severe. Sean narrowly avoided being voted out by the board and sank into a depression. After that, he dismissed every woman around him and began frantically searching for me across the globe.

The thought made my hand shake, and the cake fork slipped from my fingers, clattering to the floor. I was about to pick it up, but Jerry was already on his way out. "Pack business came up. I'll drive you another time," he said, then he was gone. Alone, I headed to the clinic on crutches. Somehow, I felt all those eyes on me, heavy with pity. On my way to the medication room to grab some medication, I overheard whispers from inside.

Not toward the building’s exit. Toward the stairs leading farther inside it. He did not look back. “Show me.” Sister Maria obeyed immediately. The administrator remained where she was, forgotten now because being forgotten was worse than being escorted away. Omar followed Ezra with the files tucked beneath his arm, while Louelita fell into step beside them. There was no version of what came next in which she remained safely at the top of the stairs after the house had admitted the lower suite existed. Of course there was a lower room.

One word, buried in the reference line of a routine transfer between accounts that were never supposed to be connected to anything visible. Blackwood. • I called Marchetti back immediately, my hand not quite steady as I dialed. “You saw it,” he said, before I could even ask. “Blackwood. That’s not a coincidence. That’s not some vague shell company name. That’s his name.” • “It could be a middle name,” Marchetti said. “It could be a subsidiary, a trust, something adjacent that isn’t him directly. I want to be honest with you about how thin that connection still is, legally speaking.”

In that instant, it felt as if all the blood drained from my body. Why? Why would she do this? She was my mother. Why would she treat me like this? I stumbled backward, barely able to keep my balance. My back bumped into the desk behind me, and a box slid off the bookshelf and crashed to the floor. The lid popped open. Inside were old photos from my childhood. I bent down and picked one up. They were pictures of me as a kid. But underneath them, I noticed something else. My mother's diary. I opened it.

"Mia, I told you the day before yesterday to send Bree's info to the travel agent and book all three together. You didn't?" Mia planted her hands on her hips and fired back with faux outrage, "Oh, so now it's my fault, Liam?! I told you—Bree always books first class when she travels. I didn't want to overstep and put her in economy without asking."

I thought I could protect myself, but could I really? And did I deserve to be protected? If anything, I would follow him to keep my own thoughts at bay. Steeling myself, I followed him through the secret door. The secret room behind it was full of books. I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting – we were in a library, after all – but it wasn’t this: a large table in the centre, overflowing with open books, their spines long since cracked; corkboards on the walls, torn pages of books pinned to them; glossy green houseplants reaching up towards the flickering light.

Then Zara noticed something. "Adrian." He turned. "What?" She pointed at the bookshelf. "That book." He walked over. "What about it?" "It's upside down." Adrian stared at the shelf. Most of the books were old business journals. One was facing the wrong direction. He pulled it out. A small compartment opened behind it. Zara's mouth fell open. "Okay." Adrian looked at her. "Don't." She smiled. "I wasn't going to say anything." "You were."