He nods, sips his drink.
I shift my gaze, scratch my head, shake it, then turn back to him. “Do you snap your fingers and people just do what you tell them?”
“Yes.”
“Unbelievable. You’re an arrogant son of a bitch, you know that?”
“I never knew my mother so I can’t say.” He’s casual, watching me over the rim of his glass, but I don’t miss how his posture just stiffened. “Let me get you that drink before you say something you’ll regret.” He walks to the bar and pours me a vodka.
I don’t refuse it when he hands it to me. Instead, I drink a big sip. “I don’t drink during the day,” I tell him.
“Clearly.”
“This isn’t…I’m not—”
“Are you going to miss Irina?” he asks.
“Well, no.”
“But you’re upset I sent her away?”
“I’m upset that you just inserted yourself into my life and not only sent her away but then you’re taking my father away. Not to mention the house or the company.”
“I’m not taking your father away. I’m getting him the care he needs. The care you can no longer afford.”
“You don’t give a crap about him. You said yourself he’s a vegetable.”
“You’re right. I don’t care about him. I care about me. I’m clearing my own path. I don’t want anything getting in the way of having you in my bed, Persephone.”
5
Hayden
She’s clearly taken aback.
I watch her swallow the rest of the vodka. The way she looks right now with her mismatched shoes, messy hair and tired eyes, she’s a little lost. No, a lot lost. And out of her league.
“Take off your coat and sit down.”
She inhales deeply, walks to the couch and sits but keeps her coat on.
“Have you eaten today?”
“What?”
“Have you eaten anything?”
She presses the heel of her hand to her forehead, squeezes her eyes shut. “I don’t remember.”
“You need to eat.”
“Please don’t pretend to care.”
“I’m not pretending.”
Her eyes narrow.
“I take care of what’s mine,” I add, just to be clear.
She snorts, leaning her head against the back of the couch and folding her arms across her chest.
I walk to my desk, push a button on the phone. Peter answers immediately. “Get some food up here. A sandwich. Something substantial.” I stop, remembering. “Are you still a vegetarian?”
She nods.
“Vegetarian,” I amend.
“Yes, sir,” he replies, and I disconnect the call.
She finishes her drink. “I want to be close to my father.”
“The facility is a half-hour drive away.”
“You had no right to do it behind my back.”
“It wasn’t behind your back. I believe I mentioned it. This was simply efficient.”
She sighs, sits back and looks at the contract still in her hand. The elevator dings and a few moments later, the doors slide open.
We both turn to watch Peter and a waiter enter. The waiter carries a tray inside and sets it on the coffee table. He takes the cover off the plate and at my nod, they both leave.
“Eat,” I tell her.
She looks at the sandwich, a baguette with brie and some greens, with a small side salad. She then slides her arms out of her coat and picks up the sandwich, takes a bite, making a point of looking at me as she chews.
I drink my whiskey and watch her.
She’ll be turning twenty-one soon. Last time I saw her she was sixteen years old and too drunk to stand on her own. Although Jonas wouldn’t admit it, I think he’d put something in her drink. And the way she was with me afterward, when I brought her home, that’s not just alcohol.
It was Halloween night. I still remember the lightning storm. It’s what had caused the fire at our house.
After overhearing the argument between my grandfather and father, I’d gone out to the chapel ruins avoiding the party. It’s where I always used to go on nights I felt shitty. But that particular night was different. I’d heard my grandfather angry, but I’d never heard him sound like he had that night.
As I approached the chapel that straddled both Abbot and Montgomery properties, I saw the light of lanterns burning inside. I might have changed direction if I hadn’t heard her. I might have opted to leave. But I had heard her, Persephone, and she’d sounded wrong.
She wasn’t screaming for help or anything like that, but she sounded off, like she couldn’t scream. And she sounded scared.
When I’d gotten close, I’d seen the three of them through the glass-less windows. Jonas, Nora and Persephone. Nora and Jonas didn’t see me right away, but I remember how Persephone had looked at me when she did. She turned her head as I got near like she felt me coming before I even stepped out of the shadows.
Jonas and Nora wore strange black cloaks. I remember how dark the circles under Nora’s eyes were, thinking it must be Halloween makeup. She didn’t look like herself and it struck me strangely.
“Don’t let her up,” Jonas had told Nora.
Persephone’s mouth was open, jaw slack, and she just looked out of it. She was lying on the altar, trying to get up, but Nora had her hands on her shoulders, whispering something to her. I remember how strange I thought it was that Nora would be keeping her down on Jonas’ command. How not like my sweet sister.
The skirt of Persephone’s costume—because they’d come from the party at our house—was raised to her belly. I still remember my stepbrother’s hand bruising her thigh.
I remember how enraged he’d looked when I’d slammed the door against the stone wall and stalked into the church.
I wonder how much of that night she remembers. How much of what happened after.
“Happy?” Persephone asks, drawing me back into the present.
She’s eaten about a quarter of the sandwich.
“I’d be happier if you ate the whole thing.”
“Why are you back? I mean, why now?” she asks, ignoring me.
I’ve been away for five years. That’s not to say I haven’t been here in those years, but when I was, I always stayed at the club. Never went anywhere she’d see me.
“It was time.”
“You waited until after my dad’s accident to make a move on Abbot Enterprises.”
“That’s not true. Plans were in the works for some time before the accident. Your father knew.”
“He never mentioned anything.”
“No, I guess he wouldn’t. He was ridiculously optimistic about trying to save the company, the house and his reputation.”
“He’s not ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously optimistic. There’s a reason I was able to do what I did, Persephone. He left himself wide open and if it wasn’t me, it’d be someone else.”
“No one would take our home from us.”
“The bank would. Isn’t it better off on my watch?”
“Nothing’s better off on your watch.”