Archer laid a gentle, yet possessive, hand on the small of my back as we made our way up the staircase that took us up to the next bar. A security guard waited at the top, but he simply stepped aside to let us pass.
Inside, the entire bar was all but empty, just one bartender and my lawyer, who sat at one of the tables near the balcony.
"MK, good to see you," Demi greeted me, standing up from her seat. "Come and sit." She was dressed in a sharp, white pantsuit with the edges of a royal-blue lace bra peeking out of her blazer. Her Louboutin shoes were a matching royal blue, and she looked exceptional.
I sat down on the sofa she indicated to, opposite her, but when Demi held up a finger to Archer, none of the guys sat. Archer huffed an irritated sound.
"MK, I have information for you about your mother. I'm happy to tell you in confidence, if that's what you'd prefer." Her gaze was locked on me, and I filed that little power dynamic away for future reference.
With a smile, I shook my head. "No, it's fine. They can stay. Archer and I have... started working out our differences."
She grinned back at me, making a small signal that they boys could join our table. "I thought as much but wanted to give you the choice."
Archer, the petulant fucker that he was, decided to reinforce my statement. He slid onto the couch, then pulled me into his lap and looped his arm around my waist. Like he fucking owned me.
Bastard.
"Sunshine," I said with sugary sweetness. "Are you lost? There're plenty of other seats." And by plenty, I meant there was enough space between us and Steele for us both to sit. Kody dragged over an armchair.
Archer just dropped a kiss on my shoulder. "Hush, Kate. Demi had something important to tell us."
My cheeks flamed at his unnecessary display of big dick energy, but Demi just smiled.
"Working through your differences looks entertaining," my lawyer commented with a cheeky grin. "But let's get down to the important things, shall we? I located your mother's family."
Shock froze me. "You did?"
She jerked a nod. "I did. After Archer provided me the paper trail he’d originally covered up, it was enough of a thread for me to follow through to the source."
"That was quick," Archer commented, his fingers flexing against my dress. "My people have been working on that for over a year and still coming up blank."
Demi was pure smug satisfaction. "You need better guys."
"So it seems," Archer murmured. His grip around my waist relaxed slightly, and he brushed a soft kiss across my shoulder, almost like an unconscious gesture.
Demi reached into her designer handbag and pulled out a folder of paperwork. She placed it on the small table between us and flipped it open. On the top page was a photograph of a beautiful, older woman, maybe somewhere in her seventies. There was something shockingly familiar about her face.
"Meet Katerina Orlova of Moscow, Russia. Your maternal grandmother." Demi watched me closely as she tapped a long, nude-painted fingernail on the photo.
My mouth went dry as I studied the image. "I know her," I whispered as fuzzy edges of long forgotten memories tried to resurface in my mind. But the harder I tried to grab onto them, the further away they seemed. All I could grasp was that I knew this woman and that I'd loved her... once.
"Katerina, I believe, is why your mom added Kate to your first name. She died a little over ten years ago," Demi continued, "which seemed to be the catalyst for your whole matriarchal line being buried by your mother."
My gaze snapped up to meet Demi's curious gaze. "My mom hid it? I thought... I just assumed my dad had something to do with it."
Demi shrugged. "Your dad is a piece of shit, no question there. But this was done by Deborah herself. I can only imagine it was an attempt to keep you safe from whoever killed her mother."
I swallowed heavily. "And whoever ended up killing her."
"Probably," Demi agreed.
None of my guys spoke, but I could feel their strength and support like a tangible thing. I was glad not to be learning these truths alone.
Shifting in Archer's lap, I reached out to flip the page. The next sheet of paper showed a photograph of an unfamiliar man. He was younger than the image of Katerina, but the photo also looked a whole lot older.
"Abel Wittenberg of Pretoria, South Africa. Your grandfather. Died when your mom was fourteen and left full control of his company to his loving wife, Katerina." Demi paused, sitting back and linking her hands together in her lap. "The rest of the information is all there, but I'll give you my summary on what I think happened. Take it with a grain of salt because maybe I'm adding two and two, then coming up with twelve. But..." She gave an elegant shrug.
I nodded. "But in your professional opinion, what do you think happened?"
Her smile was sharp. She knew I didn't mean her profession as a divorce lawyer. "When your grandfather died, he left everything to his wife. From what I can deduce, they were very much in love, despite their marriage originally being a business arrangement. She was heartbroken, understandably, and apparently lost interest in running Abel's company. Instead, she assigned it to a trusted CEO and then left South Africa with her teenage children. She came to America and set up a new life."
"Children?" Steele commented, voicing the same question echoing through my head.
Demi nodded, then reached out to show us the next photograph in her folder. It was of a handsome boy, maybe only sixteen or seventeen years old. His blond hair and blue eyes were vaguely familiar, but I'd never seen him before. Or I was pretty sure I hadn't.
"Declan Wittenberg," Demi told us, "your mom's twin brother. He was killed during a home invasion several years after they arrived in America. I've included the case notes, but it's still an unsolved crime."
I ran my fingers through my hair, thinking. "Okay. So, what then?"
"Then, nothing much… until the man your grandmother assigned as her CEO died of a heart attack. A week later, Katerina was flying back to Pretoria to attend the funeral, and her plane crashed somewhere over the Middle East." Demi pursed her lips, looking grim. I'd put money down that my grandmother's crash hadn’t been deemed an accident.
"Someone wanted her dead," Kody muttered, like he was just thinking out loud. "Someone that stood to gain from her death."
"But my mom would have been the only heir, right?" I asked, puzzled. "She'd be the only one to gain."
Demi nodded. "Which probably explains why two days later Deborah employed a very highly skilled gentleman to start erasing her paper trail. She went into hiding for her own safety, and for yours."
Archer's fingers flexed on my stomach, making me guess he'd thought of something. I turned slightly to meet his pensive gaze.
"Of everything, it was your records that had been most thoroughly wiped. I bet Deb was hiding the fact that she had a daughter at all"—Archer's brow was tight as he thought it through—"eliminating you as a target for the killers who would eventually be coming for her."
Annoyance rippled through me. "So, what? She just went into hiding here in Shadow Grove, got some guy to do a half-assed job covering her tracks, then crossed her fingers and hoped for the best?"