Fortune's Prince Charming Read online

  The question remained, did Alice have his ring? Had her father sold it or pawned it? Although that wasn’t his style. He certainly didn’t need the money. So had he given it away? But how would it end up in the hands of a member of the Fortune family—the very one Ben had been insisting their father was related to?

  The thoughts sent a shiver rushing up Zoe’s spine.

  She thought about calling a family meeting but two seconds later realized that if she told the others before she talked to her father she would be opening Pandora’s box. She didn’t want to be the one responsible for that. It felt as though she were letting her father down. No, worse than that. It felt as though she were betraying him.

  That’s how she came to find herself standing in a hallway in the Robinson estate, outside her father’s study. She’d come over to talk to him, but he wasn’t home, which she knew because his car wasn’t in the garage. She’d checked when she arrived. When the stall had been empty, a great rush of relief had swept through her.

  She probably should’ve called and asked when he would be at home, but she couldn’t seem to make the call. Instead she’d come over hoping for the best. She wanted to see his eyes when she told him what she’d found. That way, she would know if he was telling the truth—or not.

  Despite his car being gone, Zoe rapped gently on the study door. As she expected, no one answered. However, her knock had pushed the door ajar just a little. Enough for her to see that the lights were off and there were no signs of life in the room, which was lit only by the diffused daylight streaming through the slats of the closed shutters. Still, there was enough light to make out the bookcases that lined the walls, the fine leather furniture and his desk, where she had originally discovered the ring all those years ago. The timeless room with its classic elegance hadn’t changed a bit since then. It was like stepping back in time.

  Maybe this wouldn’t be a wasted trip, after all. If she looked at his ring again, maybe she’d discover that she was mistaken. Maybe it was similar, but different from the piece of jewelry in the magazine picture. In fact, just to be sure, it would be a good idea if she snapped a photo of it with her cell phone. That way she could put the ring away and compare her photo with the picture of Charles Fortune Chesterfield’s. She’d torn it out of the magazine and put in her purse, but she would need better light to compare the details.

  Yes. That’s what she’d do. Just to be sure.

  After all, there was no need to upset her father unless she was 100 percent certain that the rings were identical.

  She stepped into the study and quietly closed the door behind her. She went to her father’s desk and found the fine mahogany box—the one Zoe used to think was a treasure chest, especially when she’d opened it and discovered the ring.

  It had been such an unexpected delight, finding jewelry, of all things, in her father’s office. She’d been so mesmerized by the gorgeous green stone and the fine gold-filigree setting. She thought it was a magic ring like the one in E. Nesbit’s novel The Enchanted Castle. She’d put it on her finger and made a wish. Then she’d run to her father, shown him the great treasure she’d discovered and asked him if she could keep it. Of course, the last thing she’d expected was for him to come unglued.

  Even though it had happened a long time ago and it hadn’t taken long for her father and her to move past it, the incident had scarred her.

  Now she tried to lift the lid on the box, but it wouldn’t budge. It was locked up tight. She opened the top desk drawer to see if she could find a key. When that search proved fruitless, she picked up a paperclip to see if she could pick the lock. She’d never done that before, but it was worth a try.

  She closed the desk drawer, lowered herself into her father’s chair and moved the box closer to her. She had the paperclip in the lock and was actively working it when the door to the study opened.

  Her father turned on the lights and started when he saw her.

  “What the hell, Zoe? What the hell are you doing in here?”

  All of a sudden she was six years old again, caught red-handed doing something that this time she knew good and well displeased him.

  But before she could come up with an excuse—she never had been able to lie—she had a moment of clarity. She cupped the paperclip in her hand and stood to face him.

  “Dad, we need to talk.”

  “The only thing we’re going to talk about is why the hell you are in here, trying to jimmy open my private lockbox.”

  Only this time his anger didn’t shred her the way it had the first time.

  He walked over to the desk, reached across and grabbed the box, turning it around to inspect the front of it.

  “What are you doing, Zoe?”

  Maybe she should’ve talked to him before entering his study. Despite the sickening feeling that she knew the answer to the question, she still needed to ask him. Even so, it would’ve been nice to have irrefutable proof before she opened this can of worms. The only way to handle this was to be direct.

  “I’m looking for that emerald ring. You know the one I’m talking about, don’t you? The one with the filigree setting and the F monogram.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I think you’d better leave and don’t you ever let me catch you sneaking around and snooping through my possessions again.”

  “You can’t tell me you don’t know which ring I’m talking about. It was the one I discovered when I was six years old. It was right here in this box.” She reached for her purse and pulled out the picture of Charles and Alice. “It’s just like this one that Charles Fortune Chesterfield gave to his fiancée.”

  “I said I have no idea what you’re talking about. Are you deaf? I also told you to get out.”

  Zoe grabbed her purse. “Fine. If you won’t talk to me about it, I’ll talk to Ben. I think this might be the missing piece he’s been looking for in his search to prove that we are, in fact, related to the Fortunes.”

  She walked past her father and out the door, knowing full well that he knew she was calling his bluff. She also knew that if he let her leave without talking to her about this, she fully intended to go straight to Ben’s house and show him the photo.

  Gerald let her get down the hallway before he called to her.

  “Zoe, get back here.”

  She didn’t wait for him to ask her twice. She came back into his office and shut the door. But she waited for him to speak first.

  “Look, I don’t want you to go away mad,” Gerald said. “You know we’ve always had a special bond.” His tone was softer now, the anger that had flown off his tongue in sparks and flames a moment ago diffused. Of course he was being nice and playing the favorite-child card again. He didn’t want her to spill the beans about the ring.

  At heart, she’d always been the consummate daddy’s girl, the one who’d loved him unconditionally. She’d wanted nothing more than to please him. But his time his ploys weren’t going to work.

  “I know it’s the same ring, Dad. Do you want to explain?”

  He couldn’t look her in the eyes.

  “Come on, Dad. It’s me you’re talking to. I’m not going to run out and tell everyone. You can trust me to keep your secret. But you do owe me an explanation.”

  It was the first time she’d ever seen her father look defeated. But he did. He stood there, slack jawed and confused, staring at the floor.

  She resolved not to say a word until he spoke. She’d let him break the silence.

  A couple of uncomfortable minutes ticked by before he finally spoke.

  “I was never accepted by the Fortune family.”

  So, it was true.

  Even though she knew it was coming, his confession knocked the air out of Zoe. It took all of her willpower to keep from demanding to know why he’d lied. But she managed to hold it in
, despite the way her heart ached and all the questions that flooded her mind: Was he Jerome Fortune? If so, why did everyone think Jerome was dead?

  Gerald motioned toward the couch. They both sat down.

  Her dad rested his forearms on his knees and stared at the ground as if arranging his thoughts.

  “My father was a brutal man.” Gerald’s voice was shaky. “I was an only child and he was dead-set on me following in his footsteps and going into the family business. He wanted me to be his protégé. So he could control me. He owned a brokerage firm. I had absolutely no interest in following in my old man’s footsteps. And he couldn’t stand that.

  “Computers fascinated me. People did not. I couldn’t deal with the all the phoniness and small talk you had to do to con people into giving you their money to invest. But I tried. I actually went to work for the company, and I failed miserably. The clients didn’t appreciate the way I spoke my mind. I didn’t blow sunshine up their asses, and it cost my dad business. Every day of my life my father reminded me that I was a disappointment. That I was a loser. He had no idea what I was capable of. So, I decided to show him.”

  Gerald harrumphed.

  Zoe sat rapt, afraid that if she made a sound she might jar him out of this almost trancelike state.

  “I had discovered how to breach some pretty sophisticated mainframe firewalls,” he said. “I figured if I could hack into systems and learn of pending deals, my dad could have the jump on the average Joe. That meant I could not only make up for the business I’d cost him, but I could make it possible for him to have unheard-of success. If I hacked my way to the information, could it really be considered insider trading? So, I did it and for a few months things were better. He couldn’t believe I had made such a miraculous turn-around. I hated myself. I felt like I was living a lie. I decided to tell him the truth. When I did, the man went ballistic and gave me an ultimatum—give up computers or leave.

  “So, I left.”

  Zoe had heard rumblings that her dad didn’t always operate aboveboard, that no one made the kind of money he made by being on the up-and-up. She’d figured it was envy and sour grapes. Maybe she was naive, but having it confirmed that her father was just as bad as everyone claimed was devastating. He was supposed to be better than that. She’d always believed in him.

  “My mother said that if I walked out, I could never come back. I would be dead to them.”

  As stunned as she was by her father’s fall from grace, her heart also ached for him. Obviously he hadn’t had an easy time of it growing up. Her father was gruff and usually a little too focused on business, but he’d never called his children losers or made them feel bad about using their God-given gifts and talents. He had offered all of them jobs at Robinson Tech, but he hadn’t taken it personally when a couple of them had wanted to explore their own paths.

  What’s more, he had built this company from nothing. The man was a genius and the things he had done with Robinson Tech had made a difference in the world. He’d never really hurt anyone. Maybe the good that he’d done canceled out his transgressions.

  Zoe knew she was kidding herself again.

  “So is that what Jacqueline Fortune meant when she said her son was dead?” Zoe asked.

  Gerald’s head snapped up and his nostrils flared. “How do you know Jacqueline Fortune?”

  “Ben found her and contacted her. I thought he would’ve told you. She’s your mother, right?”

  “No. He didn’t tell me. What exactly did Ben say to you?”

  It didn’t escape her that he’d evaded her question about his mother. She’d come back to that.

  Zoe took a deep breath as she processed everything. Her dad had always said that his parents were dead. Yet her grandmother had been alive all these years. Alive, and she’d never had the chance to get to know her.

  “Ben said she’s in a nursing home and is suffering from dementia. When he asked her about Jerome Fortune, Jacqueline got hysterical and insisted that her son was dead. You sent her a suicide note and let her live alone all these years?”

  Gerald hung his head.

  “Why would you let your own mother think that? It must’ve broken her heart.”

  Her tone was a little sharper than she’d intended, but, come on. “How could you do that, Dad? Let all these years go by with her thinking you were dead?”

  For that matter, how had he pulled it off?

  Her father stared at her for so long that it felt as if he was looking through her, not at her.

  Finally he shrugged. “I told you this much, I might as well tell you everything. After they told me I was dead to them and kicked me out, I borrowed some money from them. I was going to pay them back, but I was on the street. I needed some money to tide me over until I could find a job. We’re talking food and shelter here. I wasn’t funding a lavish lifestyle. I figured it was the least they could do. They brought me into this world and they kicked me out. I was barely eighteen. When my father realized I’d taken the money, he confronted me. We got into an argument. He said he was going to call the cops and have me arrested. I told him if he did, I would alert the authorities about the insider trading. The words had no sooner left my mouth when my father had a heart attack and died right in front of me.”

  Zoe gasped. “How awful. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

  Her father shrugged. “If I’m being completely candid, I wasn’t sorry the man was gone. His self-righteous attitude was like the pot calling the kettle black because not all of his business deals were honest. My old man had his own set of values. He hated technology and computers because he didn’t understand them and couldn’t control them. What he couldn’t control pissed him off.

  “I think the worst part of it was that my mom blamed me for his death. She said I murdered my father and that she never wanted to see me again. She accused me of killing him so that I could get my inheritance. The guy was loaded, but I didn’t want his money. Her accusations cut me so deeply that I decided I wanted to make her pay. The way I did that was by leaving town. I used my hacking skills to create a new identity and I staged my own death so no one would come looking for me. I sent my mother a note saying I couldn’t live with myself for causing my father’s death and she would be better off without me.”

  “Oh, my God. Are you making this up?”

  He shook his head.

  “I launched an unmanned boat that was registered to my family and when the empty vessel washed ashore, Jerome Fortune was presumed dead.”

  Zoe wiped at the horrified tears clouding her eyes. “This is the saddest thing I have ever heard.” A sob swallowed the rest of her words.

  “As far as I am concerned, Jerome Fortune is dead,” her father said. “He died the day I became Gerald Robinson. But don’t be sad for me, princess. Gerald Robinson has had a wonderful life. I am a self-made man. I am successful beyond my wildest dreams. I have raised a family and I wouldn’t change a thing.”

  Zoe was trying her hardest to stop the sobbing, but it had gripped her like a spirit possessing her body. “You wouldn’t change the fact that you lied to your children about who you are? About who we are? Not the fact that you let your own mother believe you were dead? What pain she must’ve suffered.”

  Gerald shook his head. “She accused me of murder, princess.” His voice was so resigned that it was spooky. “She told me she didn’t want to be the mother of a murderer. She made it perfectly clear. She disowned me.”

  Zoe stood and held up her hands in a signal for him to stop talking. “I have to go. This is all too much. I believed in you, Dad. I defended you when Ben went against your wishes and kept pushing the Fortune connection. But he was right all along.”

  Zoe remembered the rumor about the legions of illegitimate children her father might have sired. But she didn’t ask him because she really didn’t want to kno
w. At this point, she couldn’t bear that it might be true.

  Who was this man who used to be her knight in shining armor? She didn’t even know him anymore. She opened her purse, fished for a tissue and blotted her eyes before she blew her nose.

  “Are you going to tell your siblings everything?”

  The walls suddenly felt as if they were closing in on her.

  “No, I’m not. But it’s not because I’m protecting you. You’re the one who owes them an explanation. They need to hear it from you. So, this all on you, Dad.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Zoe drove around Austin for a good hour, trying to process everything her father had told her. Her mind was on overload, with a pileup of thoughts converging and screaming all at once. On the one hand, her dad had suffered a terrible upbringing. It sounded as if his father had been unspeakably cruel. But, on the other hand, he had not only lived a lie, he also had lied to his family all these years, robbing his children of their own history and possibly a relationship with their grandmother.

  Now Zoe faced the monumental task of deciding what to do with the information. To tell her siblings or not to tell? She’d been in such shock when she’d left her parents’ house that she’d told her father she’d keep his secret. Not because she was protecting him or slighting her siblings—and definitely not because she was afraid to admit she had been wrong not to support their crusade—but because it was not her story to tell. It belonged to her father—it was his confession and it needed to come from him.

  Still, Zoe couldn’t quite make peace with that, either.

  She needed to talk to somebody. Somebody who was unbiased. Somebody whose judgment she trusted.

  Even before she was aware of what she was doing, she was steering her car into the parking lot of Joaquin’s apartment building.