by K. Webster
“Dad,” I whisper. “I know I screwed up but—”
“Don’t.”
I swallow hard, fighting against the tears in my eyes.
He reaches across the table and takes my hand in his. “I thought you were more like me,” he says, a tired smile on his face, “but it seems drama finds you much like your mother.”
Hearing about Mom has my chest aching painfully. “I’m like you.”
“Stubborn like me, yes. But that ability to get yourself into crazy shit? That has Maggie written all over it.”
I’m curious to hear this new side about Mom. Dad always painted her as a saint to me. I was eight when she died so my memories are fuzzy. All I remember are humor-filled hazel eyes and the softest brown hair. She had smile lines that I thought were pretty. Her voice was enchanting. God, I miss her.
“I once had to bail her out of jail,” Dad says, chuckling.
“What for?” My eyes are wide with shock. This is a first.
“Public indecency.”
“No.”
“Yes. I mean, it was my fault.” He winks at me. “But she’s the one who got caught since it was on the hood of the car I was inside.”
“Dad! Oh my God!”
“My point is your mother had a wild streak.” His smile falls. “It was why your grandmother disinherited her. Well, that, and she married below her class.”
“Are you planning on disinheriting me?”
“I haven’t yet.”
We share a smile and then I cringe at the thought of Dad watching the news about me. I don’t even know what they’re saying really. I don’t want to know. Surely they can’t actually show the videos.
“How bad is the news?” I ask, dropping my gaze to our joined hands.
“Apparently Constantine is a predator or you’re a gold-digger. The media can’t decide. They’ve alluded to videos but haven’t shown any because, and I quote, ‘It’s unsuitable for all viewers.’” He sighs. “I would have knocked Constantine on his ass, but he wasn’t in his office. If I see him, though, I’m going to hurt him.”
“Don’t,” I say, squeezing his hand. “We did it together. I care about him, Dad. A lot. Everything’s a mess right now, but I’m going to make it right.”
“A mess she says.” Dad groans. “You’re on every website and news station. This is more than a mess. It’s a nightmare.”
“I’m sorry.”
He nods and his brows furl. “Sully and Sparrow are getting discharged tomorrow.”
I flinch at his statement. “And Scout?”
“Manda is trying to keep him out of jail the moment he’s released.”
“He belongs there,” I grumble, peeking up at him. “That night, if Win hadn’t called the police, Scout would have…raped me.” I swallow hard, fighting the tears pooling in my eyes. “Sully and Sparrow wouldn’t have stopped it either. I know this thing with Win is awful, but he’s protected me thus far. I let Leo get inside my head when I should have let Win handle that too.”
Dad’s eyes are pinched closed. “I’m a failure.” His voice cracks. “I brought you into their home. Presented you like a goddamn gift.”
“You didn’t know,” I argue, swallowing down my emotion. “You didn’t. But now that you do, please don’t ever make me see any of them again.”
“Never, but I don’t know what to do about Manda,” he murmurs. “I love her, though this…”
Is too much.
Her children are monsters who’ve hurt his own child.
Choose me, Dad. Please choose me.
“I should get going,” he says after a long pause. “Manda needs me.”
I need you.
My heart cracks down the middle. “Sure, Dad. Of course.”
“I can’t protect you like I thought I could.” His features are pinched with pain. “I’m sorry.”
Why does this feel like he’s giving up?
“She’s never been good to me,” I whisper. “I know you love her—”
He cuts me off with a sharp shake of his head. “I can’t let your problems become mine. You’re an adult now, honey. Act like one.”
I’m stung by his words. Manda has poisoned my father. He’ll never be the dad who raised me. I think I’m finally beginning to realize that. The dad I knew and loved died when he went out on that first date with Manda Mannford and started draining my college fund to impress her. My dad is gone.
His lips press together as he studies me for a long beat. Then, he stands, bends over the table and plants a kiss on the top of my head.
“Let Constantine shield you from this since you wouldn’t be here in the first place if it weren’t for him. He’s the only one with the financial means. I wish it were different, but when your mother married me, we said goodbye to money and chose love instead. I thought it’d be enough, but once again, this damn city waves it in my face reminding me that money rules all.” He waves a hand around him. “Luckily, fate is throwing you a bone and giving you a chance that your own father can’t give you.”
“I don’t care about the stupid money,” I growl, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Don’t be a fool. Money talks. Listen to what it says.” He tips his head. “I love you, but I think it’s best you focus on making this scandal go away and setting your life straight. Manda needs my help right now more than you do. Goodbye, Ash.”
I love you, but…
Love isn’t supposed to come with buts.
It’s supposed to be I love you, period. Full stop. The end.
Minutes after Dad is gone, I’m still sitting there, my heart heavy and dread settling deep in my bones. The loneliness of it is almost too much to bear. I almost don’t notice Nate lurking like the creep he is. His hard expression tells me all I need to know. He’s back to thinking I’m a money-hungry whore and clearly eavesdropped on my conversation. Quickly, I swallow down the overwhelming sadness threatening to do me in and harden myself.
He may think I’m a gold-digger, but I think he’s a sleazy, lying creepy friend who’s a little too interested in Winston’s life. He wants to treat me as though I’m not good enough? Two of us can play this game.
“When’s your birthday, Nate?” I call out. “I thought I’d send you a towel warmer for your bathroom. I went ahead and ordered Win one too. You know, since you rave about them all the time.” And he doesn’t have one like you claim, you nosy motherfucker.
His face darkens. “I’m watching you, bitch.”
“Right back at you, asshole.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Winston
No control.
All it took was seeing Ash and I’m back to being the starved bastard, aching to get her naked and beneath me. I had to send her away to Nate, not because I wanted to punish her, but because if she stayed close to me, I’d end up fucking her.
And that’s not happening.
At least not yet.
I need to get my affairs in order and in control of my maddening thoughts before I even think about sleeping with Ash again.
If I truly were a wise man, I’d cut her off completely. But, like she got me addicted to those damn red gummy bears, she also has me addicted to her. Her taste, her scent, her sexy little mewls when she’s being bad for me.
No one, and I’ve been with a lot of women, has ever come close to pleasing me in all areas of my life. Ash holds her own in conversation and intellect. She’s funny, much to my annoyance most of the time. The girl is fucking hot with perfect tits and a round, bitable ass. She isn’t a bimbo and works hard while at the office. And in the bedroom? She’s a goddamn freak like me.
My kinks are…odd. I know this. But it is what it is.
Ash is the only person to see me at my most vile. The girl doesn’t even balk anymore. She’s eager to play my games and is good at playing them, too.
“Shall I remain nearby?” my driver asks, his eyes in the rearview mirror.
“Please. I don’t anticipate this taking long.”
He gives me a nod, and before I can exit, he stops me. “For what it’s worth, sir, I hope you bring down whoever did this. You don’t deserve this and she certainly doesn’t. I’ve never seen you so happy. Don’t let them take this from you.”
“Don’t worry, Daniel,” I say to him with a vicious grin. “Those responsible won’t be able to walk after I’m done fucking them over.”
He laughs. “Go get ’em, boss.”
I’ve never seen you so happy. Don’t let them take this from you.
Happy. Right. Ash pleases me but she doesn’t make me happy. I find pleasure when we play but certainly not happiness. Nothing makes me happy.
Liar.
For some reason, I think of a silly selfie Ash took once with her pink bird. Her face was twisted into a goofy expression and the bird was a blur, mid-flap as though he was bothered by her cheesy fucking pose. She’d sent me the picture and I told her I wasn’t paying for that low-quality shit. I’d gotten a serious picture right after that I paid for. But the silly one is the one I look at sometimes.
Why?
Because it makes me smile.
A real smile.
Something about that picture makes me…happy.
Which is why I’ll delete it the second I get the chance. Refocusing my thoughts, I forget about the picture and enter Anthony’s office. When Mother called, I knew we needed to take this conversation away from Halcyon which is why I’m meeting them both here. Luckily, Daniel gave the paparazzi the slip on the way here so I’m not bombarded with a hundred fucking cameras like I was when I left Halcyon shortly after Anthony did. Once inside, I take the elevator to Anthony’s floor. As soon as the doors open, I sense Mother’s presence. Her familiar perfume lingers in the lobby. I’m reminded of when I was a small boy before all the kids joined the fray. I’d misbehaved once badly enough to piss my nanny off. She warned me that my mother would tear me a new backside when she got back from lunch with her friends or shopping or wherever it was Mother had been that day. I’d sat with my nose in the corner of the piano room that smelled of my mother. Same perfume.
“Winston,” Mother says from Anthony’s office doorway. “Come here.”
It’s like I’m there again. Five years old. Unsure of how Mother will react to the news of what I’d done. And, like back then, I walk right over to her. This time, instead of peering up at her sharp features, I look down since I tower over her now.
“Mother.” My voice is much deeper this time but carries the same hint of respect.
“I’ll take care of it,” she says, her voice cold and cruel.
She’d said those same words when I was five. That nanny was fired on the spot. Mother took me by the hand, walked me through the estate, and set me in front of the window with the spectacular views. It was then she explained that Constantines make mistakes, but the difference between us and those who weren’t us, was we could afford to make those mistakes disappear.
Even though I can handle this shitstorm, I give her a nod. “Thank you, Mother.”
She purses her lips, plucks a stray piece of Ash’s dark hair off my lapel, and gives me a flicker of a smile. Not a soft, warm and motherly smile. No, this one promises pain and retribution.
I close the office door and take a seat beside Mother on the couch in Anthony’s office. He ends a phone call he’s on before joining us.
“How long before we make the scandal go away?” Mother asks, getting right down to business. “And more importantly, how much? I want this handled.”
Anthony chuckles, one of the few people who can laugh at my mother and get away with it. I think the only reason she allows it is because he was thick as thieves with Dad back in the day. He’s practically a brother to her.
“You cut right to the chase, Caroline.” Anthony grins. “Lane always loved it when you’d get in protective momma bear mode. Said it turned him on. Probably why you two had so many damn kids—”
“Anthony,” I interrupt. “You can take the walk down memory lane later when my reputation isn’t on the line.”
Not that I care about my reputation, but I’m not in the mood to talk about my parents’ love life. It’ll make me think about my own love life and I’d prefer if mine was nonexistent. Besides, my mother’s been touchy about my father ever since he died. Before that, really. Society saw their marriage as a happy one. Only a few people know there was infidelity, but she was still devastated by his death.
“So grumpy,” Anthony says in a jovial tone. “I hope this girlfriend of yours is worth all the trouble.”
Mother’s lips press into a thin line but she doesn’t say a word.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” I grit out, “but if that’s the way we need to play it, so be it.”
“Your old ass could do worse.” He chuckles again. “She’s a beauty.”
“I’m less concerned about the scandal and am more eager to find out how I can get my building in my name again.” I lean back against the leather sofa and cross my arms over my chest. “How quickly can we make Morelli squeal like a pig?”
Mother quirks a brow. “You and that wretched building. Just like your father. The more important thing is that we keep family secrets…secret.”
Something about the way she says it makes my suspicion rise. On the surface she means my relationship with Ash, but it almost sounds as if she has other secrets. What could Leo know about us that I don’t? I keep my voice dry. “What can I say? I like that property.”
“It’s right in the heart of Morelli real estate,” Anthony says. “This vendetta against those gangsters was yet another thing Lane passed down to his eldest.”
“I want it back. Force Leo into handing it back over to me or I’ll sue them until they’re penniless rats.” I smirk at Anthony. “By the end of the week.”
“And what do you have on Leo that’ll make this happen? I know you’ve got something, kid.”
Kid.
I try not to bristle at the nickname he’s called me often over the years. I supposed I’ll always be a kid to him no matter the fact I pay his salary.
“Phone records. Proof of threats and blackmail. Check your email. I sent it over on the car ride over here.” I crack my neck and then say, “There’s enough to prove he violated the terms of our agreement therefore nullifying our contract. It’s written explicitly that if he were to violate my terms, which he did so heinously, he’ll sell me the building back for the same price.”
“Seems simple enough,” Anthony says.
“They’re Morellis,” Mother clips out, an edge to her voice. “And Leo Morelli, in particular. Nothing is simple with him.” She smooths her palm over her tweed skirt, and I have the sense again that there are undercurrents in the dark waters, some personal conflict between her and Leo Morelli, though I can’t imagine what. “I’ll speak to Bryant.”
“No,” I spit out, anger burning hot inside my chest.
“Winston.” Her eyes are shrewd, and despite her small frame, she’s poised to strike like a snake. “I’ll schedule a meeting with Bryant. This has to go away. Now.”
An uneasy feeling settles in my gut. Worry? Panic? Something claws at me to the point I can’t breathe. I yank at my tie, loosening it and popping the top button. Anthony gets up and returns a moment later with a bottle of water. I untwist the cap and guzzle down the water. Both Mother and Anthony wait until I’ve pulled myself together before either of them speaks.
“I’ll handle it,” I finally tell her in a semi-calm voice. “Besides, my inside line on the Morellis says that Bryant’s out of power. I’ll handle this with Leo, man to man.”
“Don’t push him too hard,” Mother says, her voice uncharacteristically placating. “People call him the Beast of Bishop’s Landing for a reason.”
I set the empty bottle on the table in front of me, ignoring her suggestion. “I’ll handle this, Mother. On my own. I won’t negotiate.”
I’ll be damned if the Morellis take out my mother too.
Mother’s
phone rings. She pulls it from her purse and answers, “Hello, Ulrich. What do you have for me?” A pause. “I see.” She stands and exits the office, taking her private conversation elsewhere.
Anthony yammers on about his plan of attack and how he’ll get Leo to heel like a good dog. I’m confident in his abilities, so I absently nod through his monologue. When he’s finished, I check the time. It’s close to noon, so I text my brother.
Me: I need you to babysit Ash while she has lunch with her boyfriend.
Perry: Nate?
His comment rankles me.
Me: No. He hates her. Tate.
Perry: Who the hell is Tate???
Me: Stop taking excessive punctuation tips from Ash.
Perry: I’m not even going to pretend to understand what that means. Who is Tate and am I supposed to kill him?
Me: Ash’s ex-boyfriend. He wants to hold her during her time of need. Make sure he doesn’t get handsy. If he does, break both his hands.
Perry: You forgive her yet?
Me: This isn’t gossip hour.
Perry: You want me to smash body parts on your girlfriend’s ex. I’d say this is gossip-worthy, Winny.
Me: Only if he gets handsy and she’s not my girlfriend.
Perry: LOL…can you even type that with a straight face?
I send him several middle-finger emojis which earns me an obnoxious amount of crying-laughing emojis.
Me: You’re a child.
Perry: And you’re dating one…
Me: Are you done?
Perry: I mean…I could go on for hours, but I have a lunch date with a dweeb and my hot future sister-in-law.
Me: Remind him that we’re Constantines.
Perry: Don’t worry, big bro. I’ve got this.
Mother sits down beside me, not so discreetly peeking at my texts. She arches a brow at me but says nothing. Approval ripples from her and for some reason it relaxes me. I suppose when you play nice with the golden child, you earn a little favor too.
I get the same light feeling as I do when I look at that picture of Ash and her bird. The picture I’m probably—okay, so never—going to delete one day soon.