“What do you think they possibly do with all this space?” I ask Aiden as he joins me.
“Host wild sex orgies.”
Bursting out laughing, I take his offered elbow. I didn’t think he’d be in the joking mood—at least, I think he’s joking.
Together, we walk up the stairs and enter the grandiose front entrance. We stand in line behind a few people, all dressed in expensive-looking dresses, suits, and jewelry.
We get to the front of the line where a woman holding a clipboard and wearing an Andrew Kessler pin stands. Her smile is wide but falters when she notices it’s two kids standing in front of her. “Name?”
“Aiden Parker,” he states, looking down at her.
She flips through the pages. “I’m sorry, you’re not on the—” She pauses as her eyes widen, then hastily flips all the sheets back in place. “Wait here, please.”
We move over to the side of the wide entranceway, while Clipboard Lady whispers something to a man in a black suit wearing an earpiece.
Everything in the house looks so polished, clean, and elegant. I feel out of place even though this is the most expensive dress I’ve ever worn. They’re the kind of rich who decorate their house with those little stands with vases on them, and even the stupid pottery is more elegant than I am, with delicate etchings and real gold flakes. The sudden urge to touch one consumes my mind. It looks so smooth and shiny and—
“Hey!” An angry voice makes me jump, and a bald man with an earpiece walks closer to me. “Don’t touch that,” he sneers. “It’s probably worth more than your car.”
I pull my hand back sheepishly as Aiden glares at the man with an intensity that would’ve made me wither into the floor.
Clipboard Lady comes to stand in front of us again. “Just one moment.” She looks like she swallowed something sour, but she still keeps that smile on her face by sheer force of will.
The large man who dropped off Aiden’s suit and never smiles appears beside Clipboard Lady. She gestures at him. “Mr. Vedenin will escort you to your father.”
“Are we not allowed to mingle?” Aiden asks.
Her smile tightens. “Mr. Kessler made it very clear that he would like Harvey to escort you to him as soon as you arrived.”
Aiden’s gaze bounces from Harvey to Clipboard Lady then back. We’re probably thinking the same thing: Andrew sent Harvey not as an esteemed escort, but as a prison guard.
There’s now a line behind us, but Aiden’s not in any rush to end his stare-off with the large man in front of him. Clipboard Lady shifts nervously. “If you please, I have people waiting.”
Aiden addresses her without shifting his gaze from Harvey. “We’ll find Andrew when we’re ready. I’d like to mingle first.”
With that, he guides me into the house, not caring about her protests or about the large man staring after us. Aiden expertly guides us around the people crowded in the large hallway, each person looking more expensively clad and important than the last, their flowery perfume and musky cologne mixing together so that I can’t pinpoint who’s wearing what, until we can no longer see Harvey or the other men in black suits and earpieces who were at the front entrance.
“Is it just me or does that Harvey guy give off a really bad vibe?” I ask, slowing our pace as we enter a large room. What is this? Is this a ballroom? Do modern homes even have ballrooms? The giant chandelier hanging in the middle of the room looks like it costs more than my house.
“It’s not just you,” Aiden says.
People are mingling while servers in suits walk by with trays, distributing hors d’oeuvres or flutes of champagne. A few large campaign ads are up on the wall across from the large floor-to-ceiling windows. The doors along the wall beside the windows are open, leading out to one long balcony that wraps around the outside of the room, where people are mingling and looking out at what I think is a garden. Ten or so men and women in white suit jackets are in the corner of the room playing soft classical music that fills the room.
“Whoa,” is all I can manage. I feel like I’ve stepped into a scene straight out of The Great Gatsby, but modern, and even richer, if that was possible.
A woman walks by with a purse I know costs about $20,000 (because Charlotte is obsessed with it), and I think maybe I really shouldn’t touch anything.
Aiden takes a deep breath beside me. Although he has his impassive mask on, I can feel the rage bubbling beneath the surface, begging for someone to say one wrong thing or make one wrong move so it can be unleashed. A server walks by with flutes of champagne and Aiden plucks one off and hands it to me, as if sensing that I’m just as overwhelmed as he is.
“I’ve never felt the urge to drink in my life, until right now,” Aiden mutters as he takes in the scene in front of him, his posture rigid and his jaw clenched.
“I can’t drive stick,” I answer, taking a sip of the champagne he handed me.
He takes another breath, spotting something in the distance and following it with his eyes. “I know. Remind me to teach you one day.”
“You’re Aiden Parker,” comes a voice from beside us.
The woman is familiar, but I can’t place her until I read the reporters’ pass dangling from a Channel Five lanyard.
“I’m Vivienne Henfrey from Channel Five News,” she says, voicing what I already put together. She was the one hounding Andrew at the fair the other day.
“How do you know who I am?” Aiden asks, his expression giving nothing away.
“When you’re dealing with someone as crooked as Andrew Kessler, you do your research.” She reaches into her handbag and pulls out a business card. Her eyes remind me of a viper eyeing its prey. “I’d love to talk to you about your father.”
Aiden stares at the card in her outstretched hand for a few beats, then takes it. “He’s not my father.”
She gives him a sympathetic smile, but everything about her screams of her ambition. “Of course. He hasn’t been your father in years.”
Aiden’s gaze finds something in the distance again. “Sure,” he says simply to her, and without taking his eyes off whatever he’s trailing, he says to me, “Come on.”
Leaving Vivienne behind, I set the champagne flute down on a random table and let him lead me in the direction he was looking, skillfully weaving around people. Even here, Aiden’s presence is too much to ignore, and people move out of our way like they do in the halls at school. We exit the ballroom and walk through the house, where there are still tons of people mingling. Every tidbit of conversation we hear that’s Kessler’s so great, or Kessler’s so generous, or Kessler’s an amazing guy, makes Aiden’s hand in mine tighten a little bit more.
We slip behind a security guard and head down a hallway that’s definitely off limits. My footsteps are softened by the red carpet, and I can’t help but stare at all the abstract paintings we pass. Was that one signed Picasso? Aiden pulls us to a stop in front of a room from which voices are drifting out from, and we move to the side so as to not be seen.
“How did you lose my son?” Kessler asks, his voice venomous.
“I’m not a babysitter,” comes the flat answer, and I know it’s from the large man, Harvey.
“You have to get him under control,” comes another voice, a woman’s. It sounds elegant even though she’s clearly not happy. “We can’t afford anything that would jeopardize you not winning this election. Do you know how royally fucked we’d be?”
“Yes, Katherine,” comes Andrew’s harsh reply, and I realize that’s his wife. “I’m aware of the money we took and the promises we made.”
“Those aren’t the kind of people we can fuck over. Do you remember my cousin Vincent?” Katherine asks.
“No.”
“Exactly!” she screeches, and I hear a glass being set down. I imagine she just chugged whatever alcoholic drink she had in her hand. “We have too much riding on this to let your stupid kid fuck it up.”
“Calm down, Katherine. You know I’ll do anything to win.
I’m not going to let a kid I never even wanted fuck it up.”
“I still can’t believe you had him,” she says like it’s the most absurd thing she’s ever heard.
“We’ve been over this. You know I only married his mom because I knocked her up. I’d never see him or his stupid bratty brothers if I didn’t have to. I’m never going back to the life I had in King City. I’ll do whatever it takes, so believe me when I say Aiden’s not going to be a problem. I’ll make sure of it.”
I’ve always thought that Aiden’s father was a terrible person, but hearing these words out loud is like a punch to the chest. The only indications that Aiden’s pissed are his drawn eyebrows and the tick in his jaw.
“Well, then, where is he?” comes a new voice, low and masculine. “We’re supposed to get ahead of this before it becomes a scandal. Introduce him as your estranged son you’re reconnecting with. I can’t do my job as your campaign manager if he’s not going to cooperate.”
“It’s under control, Will,” Andrew says forcefully.
“What are you doing?” A loud voice comes from directly behind us, making both Aiden and I jump at the unexpected sound.
“Vee? What are you doing here?” I ask her, astonished. We haven’t seen her since the other day at the roller rink. Her long, sparkly, silver dress hugs her body and kind of makes me wish I was wearing it. Her brown hair is coiled professionally on top of her head and her deep-red lipstick is perfectly intact despite the almost empty glass of champagne in her hand. Her eyes jump over me and land on Aiden, at which she does a double take and stays there, drinking him in like she did last time. Jealousy boils in my veins.
“Evianna?” Katherine’s voice comes from directly behind us, and Aiden and I turn again, caught in the doorway like deer in headlights between Vee and the adults.
“Aiden,” says Andrew, his tone cool and authoritative, the sarcasm heavy. “Thank you for finally joining us. Come in.”
With no other choice than to follow him into the room, we do, and Harvey closes the door behind us. We’re in a large office. There’s a heavy desk in the room, as well as a few leather couches. A large bookshelf covers the wall behind the desk, and I find the entire room intimidating since there are no windows in here.
“Aiden, this is my wife, Katherine.” Andrew gestures to a regal woman in a burgundy floor-length dress. She’s quite striking, in a beautiful but intimidating kind of way. “And her daughter, Evianna.” Andrew gestures at Vee, and Aiden and I stare at her openly.
“This is your ‘criminal, trailer-park thug of a no-good son’?” Evianna’s eyes are wide as she takes in Aiden’s gorgeous frame in a new light, and I know she’s trying to match the image Andrew’s painted with the tall, could-be underwear model in front of her.
I want to punch her.
“Where are your brothers?” Andrew asks, not even bothering to deny that he called Aiden those names, and as usual, completely ignoring me.
“I left the ‘stupid brats’ at home.” Aiden emphasizes Andrew’s previous words. “I didn’t want them to be a part of your game. In fact, neither do I.”
Andrew’s head tilts. “Then why did you come?”
Aiden glances at me, and I know he doesn’t really understand why himself, but I hope he got the closure he was looking for, because from the sound of it, Andrew’s still the same self-absorbed asshole he was when he left Aiden and his mom all those years ago.
“I’ve known a lot of really shitty people over the course of my life,” Aiden starts, “but none of them come even remotely close to you.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way.” Andrew doesn’t sound sorry in the slightest.
“I didn’t come here with the intention of wanting anything from you,” Aiden tells him. “But now, I think I want everything.”
Andrew shares a glance with his wife. She gives him an approving nod. They were prepared for this.
Andrew’s tone is confident and a little cocky. “We have enough money to make sure you and your brothers never have to work a day in your life.”
I know Aiden’s not missing the fact that Andrew only refers to Jason and Jackson as “your brothers,” and not “my sons.”
“I don’t want your money.”
“Then what—”
“I had a conversation with Vivienne Henfrey, earlier.” Aiden cuts Andrew off, looking right at home even though we’re in the middle of a snake pit. “She really doesn’t like you.”
Andrew’s “we’re family, son” manner falls, and I see him for who he truly is as he sends Aiden a venomous look. “A lot of work and money has gone into this campaign, Aiden.” He’s trying to stay calm, trying to remain in control of the situation. “A lot of people are counting on me. From the way this campaign is going, I will become governor. People love me, they think I’m a champion for the underdog, fighting for them and their children. You understand, then, why I can’t afford a scandal right now.”
“What kind of scandal are you talking about, Andrew?” Aiden asks him, knowing full well what he’s talking about but wanting to hear him say the words.
Andrew’s lips turn up at the corners, his eyes cold and calculating. “If you’re anything like me, you’re a smart man. Smart enough to know that all of our unfortunate pasts should just stay where they belong. We wouldn’t want them to ruin my reputation.” He glances at me for what must be the first time since we entered, and I don’t miss how pointed of a look it is.
“And why should I give a fuck about your reputation?” Aiden challenges, and anyone other than Andrew would’ve shriveled up into nothing.
Andrew doesn’t hesitate. “I’m a very powerful man, Aiden. And I know a lot of people—people who don’t mind getting their hands dirty. Remember, it’s not just about you.”
Another pointed look at me. Goose bumps break out on my arms.
Aiden doesn’t hesitate. “Is that a threat?”
Andrew tugs on his expensive-looking cufflinks, completely unfazed by his son’s intimidating demeanor. “You can interpret that statement however you want. It won’t make it any less true.” Andrew straightens. “I always knew I was destined for something greater than being stuck in that tiny house with a dying woman and a bunch of ungrateful kids. I’m not going to let some punk ruin my goals.”
Aiden straightens as well, his back stiff, and I can feel his resolve to not hit Andrew dissolving into nothing. I quickly put my hand on his arm, which is seconds away from causing some serious pain, even though I, myself, want to punch Andrew. I’ve stayed quiet until now, trying to let Aiden handle it the way he wants to, but now I’m pissed off. Andrew not only insulted his dead wife, but Aiden, Jason, and Jackson, all while threatening him to get him to stay quiet about the truth of who Andrew actually is.
I put as much venom in my words as I possibly can. “So what? You desert your sick, pregnant wife and young son? Con Katherine into marrying you since she has money? Run for mayor, for governor, lie to the people, and pretend to be something you’re not so that you can fill the void in your life? That void that you just can’t seem to fill, because you know that no matter what you do, no matter who you pay to like you or intimidate into fearing you, no matter how much money you have, you’ll never come close to amounting to anything. You’ll always be a piece of shit coward and a sorry excuse of a man.”
Andrew narrows his eyes at me, his lips tilting up at the corners the slightest bit, almost as if he’s intrigued by me. He addresses Aiden but keeps his eyes trained on me. “Your girlfriend has quite the mouth on her. Make sure to keep Amelia in line as well, or I’ll send someone to do it for you.”
When he stresses my name like that, I know he’s the kind of powerful man who can quickly become a big problem, can easily do more damage than good. A shiver runs down my spine. Aiden’s whole body tenses, and I almost let him do whatever damage he wants, but quickly squeeze his arm and address Andrew before he can react.
I send him a sinister smile. “You know where to find m
e, but it’d be so much more fun if you didn’t send someone to do your dirty work like a little pus—”
“Hey!” Andrew cuts me off. “That’s enough from both of you. Get out of my house. If either of you cause any problems for me or this campaign, I will send someone to deal with it. Understand? I tried, but if you don’t want to play this game, fine, stay quiet then, and that’s the only way you all stay safe.”
Aiden stares at Andrew, a challenge in his eyes and not seeming the least bit threatened by his father. “Go fuck yourself,” he says. “Come on, Amelia.”
Without looking back, we leave the room, hand in hand, our anger fueling us as we exit the private hallway and join the crowded halls again. I can’t believe the nerve on Andrew. To say all that horrible stuff about Aiden and his family. To threaten them. Maybe I really should’ve let Aiden hit him, at least it would’ve made him feel better.
We reach the large front hall where we entered, and although there still are people around, it’s not as busy as it was before. I catch a glimpse of the bald security man with the earpiece and we stare each other down. There’s a tick in my jaw, then I reach out and knock over the vase I was instructed not to touch earlier. It falls to the floor and shatters.
Aiden’s head swivels over to look at me, and for a second I freeze. Everyone is staring at us in shock. I can’t believe I just did that! But then Aiden smiles, a real smile that reaches his eyes, the first one since pulling up to Andrew’s house, and he laughs. A smile spreads on my own face, and before I even know what we’re doing, we both reach out to another vase on a stand beside the one I just broke, and without looking away from each other, simultaneously push it off.
The sound of the vase shattering is drowned out by the security guard yelling, “Hey!”
Aiden and I burst out laughing and rush out of the house, my heart light for the first time since hearing Andrew’s voice today. We dodge the people coming up the steps and run all the way to the valet, where Aiden produces his ticket.
Stay With Me (A Wattpad Novel) Page 20