Chapter 8 The Architect's Secret

The waiting area of the ICU buzzed with the murmur of fluorescent lights, and the fear was palpable. Less from the ones to be attended to but more from the loved ones waiting outside. Their eyes showed a painful love when they were looking at their loved ones. Their stand straight, their mouth shut, their eyes asked every question that ran in their minds. It was mostly that someone was watching Eleanor Bennett pacing around the floor when she clicked designer heels on the linoleum like a caged panther.

Poisoned. The word echoed in Lena's skull.

"You knew," Lena accused, her voice low. "You knew someone would come after him."

Eleanor stopped pacing suddenly. Her eyes-the eyes of Ryan-glinted with something between fury and grief. "I suspected. But Ryan wouldn't listen. He never does." She pulled out a silver flash drive from her coat and pressed it into Lena's palm. "This has everything. The falsified inspection reports. The bribes. The fire."

Lena caught her breath. "His father's death wasn't an accident."

A bitter sort of laughter. "Oh, it was made to look like one. Just like they're making this one look like storm-released complications." Eleanor's manicured finger tapped the flash drive. "Tom's father didn't just steal your bookstore, Lena. He burned down a building with my husband inside because he refused to sign off on shoddy construction."

Sudden revelation. The truth punched in the gut. That was why Ryan became an architect. Not to follow in his father's footsteps, but because he would become the one who would expose the corruption that killed him.

The commotion at the nurses' station shut them up at once. And there stood Tom, crisp in his polo and khakis, handing over a gift basket like some concerned friend. His gaze slid toward Lena. Smug. Victorious.

Eleanor's nails dug into Lena's wrist. "Don't."

But Lena was already moving.

Tom's smile dropped as she came stalking toward him. "Lena. Terrible night, huh? Heard Ryan took a bad hit..."

She slammed the flash drive on the counter between them. "Know what's on this?"

His eye twitched. "Should I?"

"Proof your father had James Bennett killed." Lena leaned in close enough to smell his expensive cologne. "And proof you just tried to finish the job."

Tom's mask slipped for just a moment, but that was enough. The panic in his eyes confirmed it all.

He recovered with laughter. "You are delirious, storm, stress both jumbled up-"

"Enough."

The voice made them turn. Ryan stood braced against the doorframe, pale as hell, IV pole still connected to his arm. His chest rose and fell with labored breath, but his eyes burned with lethal clarity.

Tom stepped back. "You should be in bed-"

"Oh, that's funny," Ryan limped forward, but each step made victory for him. "That's exactly what you said after slipping monkshood into my whiskey." He tapped the flash drive. "But here's the thing about poisons, Tom. They leave traces."

A nurse gasped. The receptionist froze with one hand poised over the phone.

Tom's smile turned into a venomous thing. "No one will believe a disgraced architect's kid and a broke bookseller."

"I will."

Sophie emerged from the elevator, phone raised-recording. Behind her were two uniformed officers.

Tom lunged, not for Ryan but for Lena. His hand closed around the flash drive-

SMAAAACK.

Ryan's fist collided with the jaw of Tom, sending him sprawling into the gift basket. Ribbons and fruits scattered away as Tom hit the ground.

Silence followed.

Then Ryan swayed. Lena caught him as his knees buckled, and his whisper with hot breath against her ear: "Worth it."