WARNING: STRONG Language . . .
The door to the penthouse slammed with unusual violence. It was followed by faint tinkling noises from the glass on display and the shifting of pictures on the connecting wall.
Damn her . . . Damn her!
He tossed his keys on the sterling silver shell he kept on the side table for that purpose, and in almost the same movement, he then swiped the shell, the keys, and everything else on the table off; sending all of it flying! The keys and shell clattered first against a wall, leaving visible dents in the drywall and paint, before repeating the process on the floor. The picture frame broke and the glass shattered. The potted plant met its end the same way; black dirt staining the wall, the wood floor, and the Aubusson carpet.
How dare she lock him out of their father's office! The humiliation of being escorted out of Hamilton Industries' building by two security guards still colored his face. Aiden blew out a breath in frustration.
It had been a move worthy of . . . him.
He hadn't known she had it in her. First tossing him out of his position as the company's CEO, and now out of the company literally. He wondered a bit if Bella had done this in retaliation of his court order or if this had been put in place with her original move.
Aiden's eyes narrowed as he poured himself two fingers of a fine, malt whiskey. He quickly tossed it back, barely taking a moment to savor the burn before refilling the glass with more. He walked over to the window and leaned his forearm against the glass as he stared out at the winter gray waters of Lake Michigan.
Cedric had taught them both the game of chess. Aiden had never had the opportunity to play Bella . . . No, that was a lie. He had had numerous opportunities over the years to have played his sister, but had simply not wanted to. What challenge could a child thirteen years younger than he have presented him, after all?
He didn't think this was done in retaliation, however . . . No, he paused to take a sip of his drink. This was a part of her original move, he decided.
However, Aiden still wasn't interested in playing a game with her. He had gone straight for the kill . . . With this lawsuit. His lips turned up in a dark smile. Had this been a chess match, he would have immediately put her in check. This time next month, Aiden would have everything he had coming to him; everything their father had tried to deny him at the end of his life.
It was coming together nicely. He had three doctors, all prominent psychiatrists, lined up and paid off to go on the record stating the Arabella Loren Hamilton was incompetent and incapable of handling, not just the day-to-day running of a multimillion dollar company, but the details of her own life. He had paid huge 'bonuses' to several household employees to be 'witnesses' to his little sister's emotional breakdowns and mental instabilities over the course of her life.
He hadn't complete control over which judge would be appointed, but he had two in the court system in his pocket already, and everyone had a price. It would be a good investment if he needed to add a third to his payroll. Aiden was certain that at the end of four weeks' time, he would be settling into his father's old office even as Bella would be settling into her new, padded cell at an upscale mental facility several hundred miles north in the city of Sault Ste Marie on the Michigan/Canadian border.
In the meantime, Aiden still needed to get in touch with a couple of his father's business associates that were specifically involved with Hamilton Trading, but without access to Cedric's office . . . He would have to go through official channels. His name should push things along quickly enough, but Aiden preferred to go to the CEOs directly. It was a bit of a power play, but an important one if he were to accomplish his goals.
Going through secretaries and other underlings put him at a disadvantage and lost him valuable leverage. It placed him in the same category as other corporate leaders and made him and the person he was attempting to do business with equals; something he chose to avoid if possible, preferring to raise himself above his competition in the food chain, if you will, and giving him an unspoken advantage.
Aiden turned his head from the view many would kill to own and glanced into the depths of his apartment. Cedric kept an office here. He has seldom used it as he chose to go home to the estate whenever he could. But his father had the odd quirk of not keeping a rolodex. His secretary had one, but after the funeral, she had chosen to take a leave of absence from the company. But his father . . . Cedric had kept his business acquaintances and friends' information in his head. But . . . it was possible that he had also put it on his cell phone. It was a number that he gave to his most important contacts so that they could reach him directly.
His father had stayed here overnight after his last doctor visit. He had been terribly ill at the time, but Aiden couldn't imagine that he would have left something so valuable behind. Still, Cedric had had no need of it in those last few days. Anyone needing to contact him could reach him on his home phone.
It was worth a shot.
He moved down the hall to the corner office with a commanding view of both the city and the Great Lake. Opening the door, Aiden ignored the memories he had of the most powerful man he had ever known and began searching. He found it eventually in the center drawer of the desk. It had been locked, of course, but the key had been given to him by the lawyer. He had set it aside, unwilling to go through Cedric's desk before now.
The cell phone had needed charging, so he had plugged it in and went to work out his frustrations in the gym for the next hour. He only needed it on long enough to get out the information he needed. So, Aiden was a little surprised to see several messages listed in voicemail when he came back. He scrolled through them stopping to stare at the last one.
Mercy Hospital . . .
He frowned. That was a Bludhaven area code listing. The time and date listed that it came in this morning at 10:23 am. Curious, he played the last message back.
An hour later he was boarding his private jet for Bludhaven. At a quarter til one o'clock, Aiden Hamilton was standing in Mercy Hospital outside of the door of room 322. He glanced around to see if anyone was looking in his direction. A full code was in progress at the end of the hall, providing him just the sort of distraction he needed.
He turned the handle and entered the room; no one on the floor being the wiser.
She was lying on her side facing away from him.
"What do you want," came her resigned reply.
She almost always knew when someone entered the room, even before they spoke. This no longer surprised him.
"What happened?"
She rolled over and sat up. The bruises on her face, however, did shock him. Bella always healed quickly from everything he had ever given her with the exception of the occasional broken bone. She had apparently been attacked in her home and taken to the park where her assailant had planned to, and almost succeeded in, killing her.
He only knew that she had been brought in early that morning. Over six hours and the bruise on her face showed no signs of fading as yet. Damn . . .
"Don't pretend, Aiden. We're both too old for that game now."
"I don't know what you're talking about." He moved into the room a little further.
"There are no listening devices on me and no one is hanging out in my bathroom," she said to him, snidely. "Did you not hear the lawyer? Killing me would make no difference to you. Anything I inherited would go to Dick or our . . ." she swallowed. "Or to Bruce Wayne should something happen to the both of us."
He blinked. "Do you think I was behind this?"
Her lips tightened and turned down. She looked tired and . . . sad. Not that he cared, but he couldn't afford her spreading the tale that he was behind hiring someone to murder her.
"Who else," she asked.
He shrugged. "I would suspect it was someone who didn't like you. Someone other than me, that is."
Bella sighed and leaned her head back on the pillow; closing her eyes. "Fine, whatever, Aiden. Don't admit to it."
"I didn't hire anyone to kill you," he snapped. "Did you not get the documents I had sent to you? I was told you signed for them."
"I did."
"Then it should be obvious to you that I have a better chance at regaining what belongs to me if you continue to live. My options, unfortunately, dwindle to zero should you die." Aiden replied.
"Or perhaps you realized you cannot win and decided to use this legal ploy as a means to throw off the police," She snapped back. "You made a mistake going after Dick, however. I won't let that pass."
"Your threats don't scare me, little girl," he growled.
"Yet, Aiden," Bella glared at him. "My threats don't scare you yet."
"You know that I don't even have to win the hearing to win the game," Aiden told her; a little smugly to be honest. "The board of directors and the stockholders won't like the kind of publicity that this will generate. They may overrule the will, and give me back the company's position voluntarily. Better the known quantity that they've seen succeed than the possibly unstable girl who has yet to be tested."
"Poppa's will . . ."
"Father's will has little to do with it. The power is with the board and, ultimately, with the stockholders. If they do not support Father's will, there is little the law can do about it." Aiden interrupted her.
"You would do this? Go against his wishes like this," Bella asked.
"Since when have you cared for Father's wishes," he countered.
"I've done what he's asked me to all of my life, Aiden. It was time for me to get out from under his wing and fly for myself," Bella stated. "I never wanted this and you know it. As usual, Poppa finds a way to get what he wants. I won't allow his company to falter, and he knew that."
Aiden walked over to the window and looked out at the uninspiring view of the hospital's west parking lot. "Father has shown me how he believes loyalty should be rewarded. I've learned my lessons well."
Bella was silent for a long moment, and the room felt heavy with things still left unsaid. He heard her blow out a breath in frustration. Honestly, he was a little surprised she hadn't used the call light to have him bodily removed from her room.
"I can't believe you flew down here from Chicago for this," she indicated the room. "Why are you here . . . Really?"
"You are a surprise, Bella," Aiden muttered. "A bitch, but one full of surprises."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "I thought I was a demon."
He shrugged. "A demon-bitch . . . That's as good as a description as any."
"Of the two of us, it was not the demon-bitch that threatened to choke the life out of the other one," she commented; pulling up her knees under the blanket and wrapping her arms around them.
"A fit of temper," he told her, unconcerned.
Bella shook her head at him. "You know, Aiden, you should really consider taking an anger management class."
He inclined his head. "Perhaps," he conceded the point. "I must admit that I wasn't expecting you to rush right out and get married, Bella. How'd you manage that? You couldn't have gotten the summons earlier than yesterday."
Bella blinked at him; staring. He thought she wasn't going to answer for a moment.
"It happened some time ago," she said softly after a while; a thoughtful expression on her face.
He hummed in acknowledgement to her reluctant admittance. "It won't make a difference."
She suddenly smirked at him. "It already has. In fact, you flew all the way down here just to hear me say it, didn't you?"
Aiden frowned at her. "Say what?"
Bella turned back the covers and picked up the plain, white cotton robe the hospital supplied her with; sliding it on over the gown she wore. She slid her feet into the crappy, disposable paper slippers on the floor and stood up. Aiden noted the fading bruises and scrapes that covered her legs and feet still. Whoever he was, the bastard had done a bang-up job.
"Where are you going?"
"To see my husband," she said without looking at him.
He stopped her at the door with his question. "What were you going to say?"
Bella ignored him, pausing only to tug her long, dark locks from beneath the robe. She reached for the door and stepped into the corridor.
"Goddamn it! Say what, Bella? What the hell were you going to say?"
Aiden moved toward her; grabbing her arm roughly and tugging her back into the privacy of the room. Bella jerked her arm out of his grip. He watched her wince, and knew he just added to the kaleidoscope of colors that now decorated her body.
"No! You don't get to do that anymore," Bella backed away from him and toward the door a second time.
He ignored her statement and narrowed his eyes.
"I flew all the way down here to hear you say it," he repeated her words, suspiciously. He thought, abruptly, he knew what it was she had been about to say. "Damn you! This isn't a fucking chess game, you know."
She opened the door and stepped back out into the hall. She glanced back over her shoulder at him.
"Maybe not, Aiden, but if it was . . ." Bella smiled smugly, and laughed.
"Don't you dare say it."
"But you asked me so prettily . . ."
"Bella," he growled warningly; following her out. "This isn't finished by a long shot."
"Oh, I think it is," she walked to the bank of elevators; stepping into one just as another couple exited.
Aiden stood there. The tiny girl he had bullied and abused no longer cowered in his presence. The woman she had become pressed a button and met his eyes without flinching. Somewhere along the line, when he hadn't been paying attention, his little sister had grown up and discovered her spine.
And then, just before the doors closed, Bella smiled again and said it.
Just to fucking annoy him, she went and said it.
"Checkmate."
Her laughter that followed was muffled by the elevator doors, but he heard it.
REACTIONS?
Hm . . . Questions and answers. Do you believe him; that he didn't have anything to do with hiring Nameless? Or is he just blowing smoke? If it isn't Aiden behind the attack, then who is?
How many of you enjoyed Elle's checkmating her brother? Wasn't that fun?
Remember that without adversity and hardships and bad experiences we would never grow up or grow stronger . . . Something to think about, hm? Even the bad stuff can have a good outcome if we learn from it.