Misfortune Cookie

by Casey Wyatt

  “I’ll kill you!” His parting shot echoed down the hallway.

  The lawyer stood, smoothed his lapels, and clapped his hands as if we’d all witnessed an amusing sideshow and not a crazed attempt to harm me. “If everyone could retreat to the dining room, a buffet lunch has been provided.”

  Selene encircled an arm around my waist, pulling me close. “I don’t know if I should congratulate you or not.”

  Me either. The enormity of the situation hadn’t hit me yet. With a hoarse whisper, I said to my sister, “I don’t know what to do.”

  She touched my cheek. “You’ll be fine, Radiance.” She dropped her voice. “Out of this whole lot, you’re the only one who isn’t an asshole.”

  “Present company excluded,” I added, unable to ignore the impending sense of doom lodged in my gut. Now I understood why Julian had wanted me to leave. He must have known or suspected this would happen. I let out a long breath. It didn’t matter if I hid in a closet; I had been named the heir. Nothing would change that. Unless I flat out refused.

  The lawyer turned to face me with a wry smile. Again, he scrutinized me as if he had an uncanny knack for sensing my thoughts. I glared at him. With a slight shrug of his broad shoulders, he resumed ushering everyone out of the library. I moved to follow the herd out the door. All I had to do was get into my car, return home, retrieve my cat, then drive away.

  He moved to block my path. “Not you, Ms. Radiance Ashworth. There is some paperwork I need you to endorse.”

  Paperwork by itself didn’t sound scary. I feared what it meant. Sign a few documents and presto, I’d be one of the richest people in the universe. Privilege, power, and access to whatever I wanted. I’d return to a world I’d worked so hard to leave behind. Foreboding shook my hands. Like a caught rabbit, all my instincts screamed for me to run. I started when Selene took my hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

  “I’ll save a seat for you,” she promised before departing.

  Grace gave me a wave as my sister shut the door, leaving me alone with the lawyer.

  For a moment, the only sound was the heavy tick-tock of the grandfather clock. A stark reminder that even with all that wealth can buy, time waits for no man. Or woman.

  I shook my head. “Look at all of this opulence. This stuff. Antiques. Estates all over the world. The insane art collection. None of it mattered.”

  The lawyer’s gaze fixed on mine as if apprising me. “Sebastian’s life had more meaning than the measure of his wealth.” He motioned for me to follow him to the desk.

  Step after leaden step, I trailed behind him, unable to shake the feeling that I was going to the gallows. It didn’t seem possible or real. I lived in a small house in a normal suburban neighborhood. I enjoyed my job as an artist. It had taken me years to re-build a new identity, away from the press and my past indiscretions.

  Reality froze my limbs as sure as if metal shackles had been clamped on my ankles and wrists. I’d be hounded again. Paparazzi would stalk my every move, once word got out. Hell and damnation.

  The lawyer waited patiently for me to take a seat opposite Sebastian’s ornate and ridiculously large desk. I could walk away. Couldn’t I? The sensation of being watched tripped my nerve endings. I peered over my shoulder and stared at Sebastian’s portrait above the fireplace. His steely gaze bore into my forehead as if he knew I was considering forsaking his final wish.

  Why did I promise him that I’d do as he asked? Idiot me.

  I know why I went when he’d summoned me from his deathbed. It was a final chance to reconcile the bad blood between us. A chance I never had with my parents. They’d died in an accident. Even though they were self-absorbed celebrities who wanted nothing to do with me or my sister, I mourned their loss.

  Sebastian exploited my guilt, knowing I wouldn’t refuse to visit him. Seeing him hooked up to tubes and monitors had been sobering. He had always been larger than life, a force of nature. Despite his terminal condition, a commanding presence radiated off of him. I half expected him to demand the disease to leave his veins and it would comply like everything and everyone had always done. According to the doctor, he had a rare condition that had hardened his arteries and weakened his heart. There was no cure, and they’d run out of options.

  As he lay there, death imminent, he ordered everyone out of the room but me. Once we were alone, he made a simple request.

  “Radiance, promise me that you will comply with my wishes when the time comes.” His voice, while not as robust, was sharp enough to slice my resolve.

  “Is this about money? You know how I feel about that.” I’d reformed. After a youth spent living in hotels, boarding schools, movie sets, and after a series of public debacles, culminating in the sex-tape scandal, I never wanted access to the fortune again. Nothing good in my life had ever come from money or fame. In fact, it’d always made everything worse.

  He let out a dry, papery chuckle. “Money doesn’t make people assholes. It only makes assholes more obnoxious. Besides, no one will know who gets the money before I leave this earth. That includes you.”

  “Well, that’s a relief. I won’t become a jerk anytime soon then.” I shifted in my seat, the conversation suddenly uncomfortable. We hadn’t had a real talk in a long time. And, sadly, I realized we wouldn’t have the chance again.

  “I know we haven’t always seen eye-to-eye. And that you’ve resented my interventions in your life. Before you protest, let me finish. I’ve only ever wanted the best for you.” The old man smiled, then his expression turned more somber. “Remember, the only thing money is really good for is to buy you time to pursue the things you really want in life. And if you’re a good person, with values and integrity, you’ll find a way to make other people’s lives better. We all have to make sacrifices for the greater good.”

  “I admire your talent for making insane wealth sound noble.” I balled my fist and mock swung it. “You know, take one for the team.”

  High-pitched beeps sang from the monitors. His breathing labored, he grabbed my hand. “Promise me, child.” The outer door opened. Soon the room would be filled with medical staff. Then he did something shocking. He used the “P” word. “Please, Radiance.”

  Of course I agreed.

  I’d naively believed impending death had softened him a bit. Stupid me. He knew that day he was leaving me everything. I was too dumb to notice. Conceited in my belief that our falling out had removed me from the family legacy.

  The manipulative bastard also knew I wouldn’t go back on my word. I had honor. He considered it one of my many personality defects. At the moment, faced with an attorney and a stack of legal documents, so did I.

  I liked my quiet life away from the scheming family gene pool. The constant rivalry for Sebastian’s attention, the jockeying for important positions, I didn’t miss any of it. And I could never shake the feeling that Selene and I were never good enough, that we were somehow defective because my parents couldn’t be bothered to care for us. Aside from Selene and Grace, I’d be happy never to see any of them again or spend another moment in Ashworth Mansion.

  I sighed and took a seat. The chair, not surprisingly, was stiff and uncomfortable. Wooden spindles jabbed into my vertebrae from under the leather upholstery. Sebastian didn’t like anyone to forget he was superior. Or it could have been that he didn’t want anyone to overstay their welcome.

  “Ms. Ashworth?” the lawyer said, reminding me I wasn’t alone.

  I leaned forward and stuck out my hand. “I don’t believe I caught your name, sir.”

  “Please, call me Luca.”

  I couldn’t place the lyrical lilt in his voice. It wasn’t an English or Scottish accent. He took my hand in his. Energy surged through my fingers. Not electricity. More like a smooth river of calmness, assuring me that I was in the right place. Again, my body fl
ushed, warm and hot.

  The handshake lingered. Through the blue lenses, his dark eyes held my gaze. I stared back at him, taking in his strong cheekbones and classically handsome features. Most striking was his sleek, black hair, the color of a midnight sky. Just enough wave so it curled slightly at the collar, the cut relaxed and flattering. My fingertips tingled at the thought of stroking those locks. Heat burned my cheeks, yet I couldn’t stop feasting on his beauty.

  I broke eye contact before I did something stupid like offer him my body on a platter. He sat silently, not commenting on my flushed face. Very civil, very polite. Yet the whole time, part of my brain wondered what he looked like naked. Was he as well-toned, as the tailored fit of his clothes suggested?

  If Selene had been in the room, she would have joked that I needed to get laid. And while it had been a while, I didn’t normally eye hump total strangers. Even if said stranger was gorgeous.

  He cleared his throat and shuffled papers around. “Let’s begin, shall we?”

  “Why?” I blurted, not ready to sign away my life yet. The idea of suddenly being a billionaire sent trickles of cold sweat down my spine. “Why did he leave all this to me? There’s more than enough to go around. Why not divide it up? I’m sure there would be plenty of takers. My family excels at greed.”

  I liked that idea. First thing I’d do – split the money.

  “No, the estate must remain intact.” Luca removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Before he replaced them I caught a glimpse of their unusual color. Not quite gray, but not brown either.

  “Can you read minds?” Cripes, I hoped not. The tips of my ears flamed red.

  “Your thoughts were obvious and the idea logical. Especially given the unfortunate display earlier. The Ashworth fortune is bound to a single heir and that legacy cannot be changed. If you should wish it, you can make reasonable gifts to family or friends. You can also choose to employ any of your family at the various companies you own. But the majority of wealth is for the heir’s use. The reason will become clear shortly.”

  He slid papers in front of me and handed me sleek and expensive pen, a Montblanc. Sebastian clearly paid him well. The weight of it made my fingers ache after the first few documents. Luca patiently explained each paper and the reason I had to sign it.

  “Do I get to choose the next heir?” I wondered out loud.

  “This is the last bit of business.” His fingers trembled slightly as he pushed the final document toward me. Unlike the other papers, this one was on heavy cream-colored velum. The writing, in cursive script, was densely packed onto the oversized page. “This document cements your role as the heir. No one will be able to usurp your place in the family. The next heir will not be from your generation.” Which meant not Reg or Selene or half a dozen others near my age could take my place.

  Visions of Reg trying to oust me at a board meeting popped into my head. Or killing me and proclaiming himself the heir. Now that I understood the terms better, even if he did that, he would never be my successor.

  The pen hovered over the page. This was it. The final nail in what I hoped wouldn’t be my proverbial coffin. I thought back to Sebastian’s last words to me. I didn’t have to become an asshole. I would always be me. And that would have to be good enough. At least I would be in a position to help Selene or Grace if they ever needed it.

  That clinched it for me. I sealed the deal and wrote my name.

  After I signed it, Luca took the pen and stood. “Please rise, Ms. Ashworth.”

  He stared intently at me, hands by his side. The library chilled. The air thickened and the room darkened as if the sun had been blotted by a large cloud.

  “Is your name Radiance Lee Ashworth?” Luca’s voice boomed, deep and firm. An unearthly glow emanated from underneath his glasses. The ends of his hair swayed as if ruffled by an unseen wind.

  “Yes.” The vibe in the room was all wrong. I drew the line at creepy, day-glow eyes. I stepped back and rubbed my arms, chasing away the goosebumps.

  Julian appeared in the window behind the desk. His mouth opened in a scream.—RUN!

  Luca spoke as if he couldn’t hear Julian. “I declare you the rightfully chosen heir of Ashworth as decreed by the Higher Power so witnessed by me, their agent. This is a true and final covenant, sealed by blood.”

  His right arm rose, a flintlock pointed to my chest. Julian ineffectively banged his ghost fists against the glass. I stumbled backward, my feet leaden and uncoordinated.

  Luca whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  The bang was sudden and soft. Funny, I thought it would have been louder.

  Sharp pain tore through my chest. The bullet shattered bones, then plunged into my heart like an angry fist. The world tilted cockeyed and the gilt-edged library ceiling filled my vision.

  A man sobbed in the background, muffled as if his face were in his hands. Oh, Julian.

  I lolled my head sideways and stared at Sebastian’s portrait. The eyes were wrong: one pupil glowed white and the other burned black. His hands faced outward, an eye on each palm—one white, one black.

  Hallucination . . . had to be.

  My mouth opened in stunned disbelief to ask, Why?

  The words remained unspoken, dying on my lips with the last beat of my heart.

  Chapter 2

  The price of greatness is responsibility.

  There was no light at the end of the tunnel, with dead relatives beckoning me to join them. No chorus of angels singing in the heavens. No rainbow bridge.

  My first lucid thought was, This is a fucked up way to inherit money.

  Searing heat welcomed me instead.

  Soon after, my last recognizable thought was, I didn’t think I’d been a bad person.

  Pain ripped through every nerve ending, peeled back my flesh, and broke every bone. The only light came from heat as intense as a blast furnace. I writhed in agony. Screamed as the flames melted my flesh with no reprieve in sight. Then it stopped. But only for a moment. Bone-chilling cold settled under my skin. Convulsions racked my body. Blood poured down my throat as I bit my tongue.

  Skin regenerated. Bones knit back together. Pain evaporated.

  Body healed, the pain express left the station again.

  All the while, a voice spoke to me. For a long time, I couldn’t understand the words. The language of torment was all I comprehended. I had no beginning, middle, or end. Only suffering existed for me.

  My mind screamed, Stop! Please. Please. Stop.

  I’ll do anything. Make it stop. Please. I’ll give you anything. Take my soul.

  “Consent has been given. She is ready.”

  The pain ended as if a switch had been flipped. Through half-open eyelids, human-shaped figures loomed overhead, faces obscured in the shadows. Tapped out, I didn’t care. Unconsciousness, that’s what I wanted.

  The damned voices wouldn’t leave me alone. Over and over they asked me to state my name. At first, all I could do was mumble. As my strength returned and my body repaired, my temper flared to life.

  “What do you fucking want? You know who I am!”

  Laughter, an old, dry dusty sound echoed around my head. “You are the chosen Ashworth heir. Consent has already been accepted.”

  “You keep saying that. What does it mean?” After hours, maybe days, of unrelenting suffering, I would have agreed to anything. I wanted to move, to run, but my sluggish body refused to cooperate. Pins and needles numbed my palms, like my hands had fallen asleep. Soon after, tight, focused pinpricks pierced the soft tissue. Too weak to pull away, I ignored it.

  “Rest for now while your body is reborn.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that, but in the end, exhaustion won out and I slept.

  I jerked awake. Fuzzy shapes milled along the periphery. My vision hadn’
t received the memo that I wanted to see. White was the predominant color around me. Tired, I closed my eyes again and shifted my limbs. Soft fabric glided across my arms, then slid off exposing my skin to cool air. Gradually, my senses came back online one by one. Hearing and touch, the strongest.

  I strained to hear a hushed conversation taking place nearby.

  “Bind her to you. Why do you wait? Don’t be a fool,” insisted the rough voice of my tormentor.

  “No. The choice must be hers. Too much has been forced on her already. Her affection matters to me.”

  That voice I knew—the shitty bastard lawyer who shot me. Rage fueled my will. My eyelids sprung open and I lurched upright. Every muscle in my body rebelled and I flopped, boneless, against the plush bedding.

  White sheers billowed around the four-poster bed. Not my bed, that was for sure. I was in my guest suite at Ashworth Mansion. I recognized the overwrought, luxurious décor. The room was the size of my entire house. And I was alone.

  Had I dreamed the entire episode? A dull ached throbbed in my chest. I gingerly touched the spot, finding a thick pad taped there. Yup, I’d been shot.

  That small effort cost me. Tiredness washed over me and I closed my eyes. I must have slept for hours because when I woke again, the ache was gone. I yanked down my nightgown, not wanting to think about who had dressed me.

  With shaky fingers, I peeled away the gauze bandage. I sucked in a deep breath. Only a pink indentation remained where I’d been shot. When I tried to brace my body to sit upright, stinging needles bore into my palms. Red welts marked the center of each hand. Like I’d grabbed something hot and been too stupid to let it go.

  A faint noise, a rustling sound, alerted me that I wasn’t alone. “Selene?”

  “She’s not here.” Luca sat in one the suite’s overstuffed armchairs, legs casually crossed. A sheaf of thick papers rested in his lap, the blue glasses absent. “I told her that you had family duties to tend to and you’d call her later. You should rest.”