Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“Things have been busy. It’s unlike you to visit. Are you about to kick the bucket?”
She offers me a look that expresses she has no intention of ever dying. “Why, so you can spend the inheritance on more shiny things?” she says as she looks at the box on my desk. I don’t know why, but I don’t want her to know it’s from River. The old bitch doesn’t need to get any more in my business than she already tries to.
“If memory serves me correctly, you were the one who started me on ‘shiny things,’” I remind her as I step around my desk to meet her in the center of the room. We both take a seat on the long sofas, a wooden coffee table between us.
She looks around the room. She’s only ever been here once before. All other times, Alek and I went to her. It’s unsettling to have her in my home because of that fact.
This was in many ways my oasis. When someone like the old bitch makes her way in, you live in uncertainty that she might burn it to the ground simply because you like it. I know this because she raised me on the same mentality.
“Your waitstaff are slow,” she reprimands as she pulls out a cigarette and lights it with a gold lighter with a dragon engraved into it. I sneer at the disgusting habit, and hate that she does it in my home.
“They’ll be here with tea shortly.”
In many ways, I was grateful to the old bitch for fostering my brother and me. But it doesn’t mean we weren’t broken in or molded to her standards. Any questions or longing we might have had about our parents were quickly dismissed.
I had hired a private investigator in my teens to search for them. When Meredith found out—not that it took her too long—I was heavily reprimanded.
Longing, she had taught me, was a weakness.
Despite the ordeal, the investigations came up empty.
“When were you going to tell me about Alek?” she growls out.
Ah. That makes sense as to why she’s here.
Clay walks in with a tray of tea, followed by Vance, who has a tray with an assortment of biscuits and sandwiches.
“You still have these two, huh?” the old bitch asks, blowing smoke into the air. “Well, at least they survived longer than the last ones. Means you’re being more careful.”
I offer a curt smile. “You can’t very well still be holding against me the two security guards who were shot dead when I was seventeen, can you? Especially since the people who shot them were after you, not me.”
Her head tilts higher as she watches them place the trays down and quietly leave the room.
Clay is peering in as he closes the door, as if offering me sympathetic support. My men can push back the world and most who arrive at my residences. The old bitch is not one of them.
She picks up her tea and takes a sniff. “Well, we’ve always had very different tastes, haven’t we?” she says as she puts it back down. I have the feeling this will be a very short visit, which suits me just fine.
“In some things, yes,” I agree. But in many ways, this is the woman who molded me in her own likeness. Some things I took as strengths, and others I discarded as she tried to mold my personality as well. And, well, we all know how unbreaking and riveting that is.
I take a sip of tea, appreciative of its balance. “Alek went missing over three months ago. I have investigators searching for him, but all of them are coming up empty.”
“Three months?” she scoffs.
I try to downplay it as much as possible. I might be grateful to the old bitch, but my loyalty has and always will be with Alek. She will always come second to that.
“Why am I only finding out about this now?”
I casually shrug.
“You will lose the attitude. I’m asking you a question,” she reprimands.
I eye her. My brother and I were not raised with love. We learned quickly about consequences, respect, negotiation, and manipulation. We were given tools to build an empire, ruin lives, and make money. Right now, I feel like a child again, learning that lesson. This old bitch is the only one who can make me feel so small, and I suppose in ways, that’s what a parent does, isn’t it? Constantly lecturing and checking in?
“I have it handled,” I say.
“Three months says otherwise.” She stands. “I’ll have my men search for him as well. Do you not realize how weak this makes you look?”
“I can assure you, the auctions are still thriving even without Alek and—”
“It’s been three months. What do you think it will look like in six months, Anya? It’s better off if he’s announced dead than simply missing.”