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       Prologue

      “Midnight malteds—there must be trouble,” Cade Camden said when he joined his grandmother, his three siblings and his six cousins in the sprawling kitchen of the Denver home where he’d grown up. Georgianna Camden had raised all ten of her grandchildren here after the tragic deaths of their parents.

      “Chocolate or vanilla?” she asked without directly responding to his comment.

      “Chocolate,” Cade answered.

      “It’s been a long time since one of us got arrested for teenage hijinks,” Cade’s older brother Seth contributed.

      “Nobody died, did they, GiGi?” Lang, one Cade’s triplet cousins, asked.

      Growing up, whenever there was trouble and the sleepless nights that went with it, they’d all congregated in their grandmother’s kitchen. Even if she were angry or disappointed or disgusted with the kids—GiGi had made malteds, done damage control and assured them that they would weather whatever storm came their way.

      But tonight, when they’d each been summoned for midnight malteds during GiGi’s seventy-fifth birthday party, it set off alarm bells. It was something Cade had been anticipating anyway, ever since GiGi had requested that her grandchildren all spend the night. For old-time’s sake…

      With everyone gathered around the large island in the center of the kitchen, sipping their malteds, GiGi finally explained why she’d asked them here.

      “I’ve read the journals,” she said ominously.

      As the descendants of H. J. Camden, founder of Camden Incorporated and the worldwide chain of Camden Super Stores, GiGi’s grandkids immediately knew what she was talking about.

      Just weeks before Georgianna’s birthday, her oldest grandson, Seth, had come across a small trunk hidden beneath the floorboards of the original barn in Northbridge, Montana, where H.J. was born. The trunk contained several journals written in H.J.’s own hand. Seth had immediately sent them to his grandmother.

      “This can’t be good,” Livi, another of the triplets, said softly. Rumors had always flown that Henry James Camden, his son Hank Jr. and even his grandsons Howard and Mitchum had amassed the family fortune by lying, cheating, bribes and much worse.

      “It isn’t,” GiGi confirmed. “I haven’t read everything but I’ve read enough to know that the worst that was ever thought or said about H.J.—and even more—is true.”

      That sobered everyone in the room.

      They all knew that GiGi had never been privy to any of the business dealings, that her response to the rumors and accusations of backroom deals, of misdeeds and wrongdoing had been to instill in her own sons and grandchildren a strong sense of right and wrong. And because H.J. and her late husband Hank had kept business strictly separate from their family life, and been such good and loving heads of the household, she’d chosen to believe better of them.

      “During those last couple of months after H.J.’s stroke he said some things to me that made me wonder, that made me think he might have reason to feel some shame. But you know he wasn’t in his right mind most of that time and so I’d still hoped that the worst wasn’t true—”

      “But it was,” Cade’s cousin, Dane, finished for her.

      “It was,” GiGi said in a dire tone. “H.J. and my Hank especially….” The elderly woman’s voice cracked. She shook her head. She clearly didn’t want to admit it but she raised her chin and continued, “They trampled over other people to build what we have.”

      No one said anything to that.

      After a moment of collecting herself, GiGi went on. “I’ll grant you that much of what was done was done decades ago—your dads put more effort into giving back and sharing our good fortune. But even they…” GiGi shook her head in disappointment. “Well, they still did H.J. and your grandfather’s bidding.”

      “I raised you to be better people and I’m proud of you.” GiGi paused a moment, glancing around the island at each of her ten grandchildren and smiling. “But the more I read in these journals, the more I begin to understand the price other people paid for our success and prosperity. We all benefited from what was done. What if the sons and daughters, the grandsons and granddaughters of people taken advantage of by H.J. still suffer? What if these families never bounced back?”

      “It’s a thought that none of us wants to have GiGi, but—”

      “But nothing, Dylan,” the older woman said to another of Cade’s cousins, using the I-won’t-take-any-excuses tone they all knew well. “We need to know just how much damage, how much of a ripple-effect might have been caused. And we need to do something about it.”

      “You want to make amends?” Cade asked.

      “I’ll need to do more research, but yes. For my birthday gift, I want each of you to promise me that you’ll help find out what the repercussions were for whatever was done so we can atone for the wrongs. Seth, you’ve already done your part by finding the journals.”

      “GiGi, we could be opening up a can of worms with this,” Cade’s cousin, Derek, warned. “If we go around admitting wrongdoing people