Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 112701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
He’s likely rewritten his will and made his serpentine bride the new owner.
Good for them. May they both rot in hell.
Three years ago, my future with Cavendish Corporation in the UK came to a crashing halt when my father decided to run a sword through my back.
I hopped on the first flight I could catch and headed to America, taking up residence on Paxton’s couch.
Pax and I met at uni and became fast friends. When he heard what had happened, he offered for me to stay with him. He was the one who convinced me to open a satellite branch in New York and stay away from London and my father’s betrayal.
Dear old Dad didn’t bother to talk me out of it. He even drew up the paperwork, allowing me to operate the New York City branch under a separate part of the Cavendish Corporation. It was no surprise, given the entire reason I fled was his doing.
“Why am I here?” I’m slouched backward in a wing-back chair, trying to give the appearance of nonchalance when I’m quaking inside.
Three years later, I’m still rocked to the core by my father’s actions.
He frowns as though my attitude is unexpected and uncalled for.
“It’s been three years since you’ve been home. I thought it high time you visited. And stop slouching. It’s unbecoming.”
I huff, teeth gritted and bared. “Unbecoming. That’s rich from you, Father. You mean to tell me you pulled me away from the biggest project of my career just because it’s been too long for you?”
Bullshit. There’s more to this meeting, and I intend on getting to the reason sooner rather than later. I’ve already been in this godforsaken city for too long, the past creeping in around me like shadows in a dark alley.
“Come, son, you can’t still harbor that much resentment toward me.”
I grind my teeth together, leaning my elbows on the table to get as close to him as I can. “You’re wrong, old man. My loathing for you, I’ll carry to your grave, mine, and then the beyond as well.”
His shoulders deflate, and he sighs heavily, dropping his eyes to the table and shaking his head. “What can I do?”
He picks up his own glass, filled with water.
That is a change.
I haven’t been around the man when he wasn’t at least two tumblers into his obscenely expensive scotch.
“Nothing,” I say through my teeth. “If you wanted to make amends, you should’ve done that three years ago. You had plenty to atone for.”
He bites the side of his cheek, hazel eyes searching mine, but for what?
“I understand that my relationship caught you off guard.”
I laugh maniacally, growing more agitated by the moment. “Glad to see you two have gotten on these past years.”
“Charles,” he warns, and I throw up a hand.
“Mum just died. How did you think I should behave when her body was barely cold, and you had moved on with that slag?” He flinches, but I keep on going. “I was suffering. And when I needed you. You ran to her. You were my family.”
“I still am,” he says, and I shake my head back and forth vigorously, running a hand roughly through my thick hair.
“Not anymore. Those days are done.”
“It’s just a woman, Charles.”
I bark out a frustrated laugh. “And you think that makes it any better? You have some fucking nerve.”
Both of his hands raise. “I am not trying to fight with you, Charles. I’ve given you your space because I knew I’d gone about it the wrong way. You should’ve never found out the way you did.”
My hand smacks the table with a crack. “I should’ve never had to find out at all,” I yell, earning a reprimand from the bartender that I don’t acknowledge. “You should’ve respected me and respected Mum. Instead, you allowed your dick to get in the way, and our familial relationship is forever in disrepair.” I take a breath, trying to rein in my temper. “That’s on you and something you’ll have to live with. I sleep rather well at night.” I cross my arms and sit back again. “In fact, I should probably thank you.”
One bushy brow lifts, but he doesn’t speak, allowing me to continue.
“You did me a huge favor. Not that it’s going to change how I feel about you. For what it’s worth, I feel sorry for you, old man.”
His eyes close. He looks tired.
“I didn’t bring you here for this. It’s not that I expected things to go smoothly, but I didn’t think you’d still harbor so much anger after three years.”
“You don’t know me at all, Father.” I spit the word like a curse. “Now, tell me why I’m here, or I’m leaving.”
He takes a deep breath and meets my eyes once more. “I’ve been working up the nerve to tell you that I’m finally retiring at the end of the year.”