Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Shoving those thoughts aside, I spend the afternoon in the lavish presidential suite overlooking South Beach. It’s hard to believe the waters I see here are part of the same ocean I see in Avarice. Here, it’s turquoise, warmth, and happiness. At home, it’s wild, gray, and cold. Angry even.
I am drawn to the ocean, even though I’m terrified of it and the cliffs in Avarice with their constantly churning waves. I sometimes wonder if Mom intended to drown. She hit rock, though, not water. Maybe that was better. Faster.
Sadly, Santos had the telephone removed from the room upon our arrival, not even bothering to make up an excuse. It’s early evening by the time he’s back and in the meantime, I get dressed, hair and makeup done for the event.
As soon as I hear him, I walk out into the living room but stop when I see he’s not alone. Caius is beside him.
Their conversation pauses when I walk into the room and Santos’s gaze sweeps over me. I’m wearing a form-fitting, floor length deep crimson gown with a black lace overlay. It is a color I love. My hair is twisted elegantly, and I insisted on heavy eye makeup. The woman had accommodated me when I’d threatened to add my own if she wouldn’t. It’s still less liner than I’d do, but it looks good.
My stomach flutters stupidly when I watch Santos look me over. His eyes darken and in them, I see want. I hate that some part of me is satisfied to see it. Maybe I was even waiting for that look, because it’s his stamp of approval.
Caius, on the other hand, looks like he usually does. Sneaky, like a snake.
“Sis,” he says, walking toward me. I stiffen but hold my ground when he kisses my cheeks, the scruff of his jaw scratching my skin. “Don’t you look lovely.”
I don’t bother with him. I don’t trust him, and I don’t like seeing him with Santos.
“Don’t you think so, brother?” Caius asks, pouring himself a whiskey as he watches Santos watch me.
Santos nods.
Caius keeps his gaze on us as he swallows his drink. “I’ll go get dressed. See you downstairs?”
“Yeah.”
Caius sets his empty glass down and leaves.
“Why is your brother here?” I ask.
“Business. He and I are partners, and tonight we’ll not only be meeting some of the advertisers who are used to doing business with your father, but also the candidates for political office who have had relationships with him.”
I consider this, trying to hear what he’s not saying. “I don’t trust Caius.” The words are out before I can think better of it.
“Does that mean you trust me?”
I hope my narrowed eyes give him the answer he seeks. “I don’t have anything to do with the company. I’m not sure why I’m here.”
De Léon Enterprises was formerly Donovan Media, a media giant for more than three generations. It’s the company my uncle was CEO of. My uncle was the last Donovan to run it. My father actually met my mother when he was in talks about a merger between De Léon Enterprises and Donovan Media.
Things had been headed in that direction for years, although it was only in the last six months of Uncle Jax’s life that they’d reached an agreement, but I also know Uncle Jax was under pressure from Dad. I still remember some of the conversations I overheard between him and my father.
Uncle Jax didn’t trust him. My grandfather had thought he was using our mother to make headway into the company. I think ultimately my mother’s family blamed him for what happened to her which, even though I know my father, I don’t think is quite fair. But in the final months of Uncle Jax’s life, Donovan Media and De Léon Enterprises did merge, the name Donovan Media being kept, a concession from my dad that he never appreciated having to make. I overheard those conversations too. It only became De Léon Enterprises a full year after my uncle’s death due to a clause in the bylaws Uncle Jax had added. I never liked that Dad did that, erasing the Donovan name like it had never been.
“What am I doing here?” I ask instead of answering. “Neither Odin nor I have anything to do with the business. That’s all my father.” My brother is as much a disappointment to my father as I am. In many ways, Odin’s had it worse than me. I think our mother may have been a disappointment to Dad too.
“I want the world to see me with my beautiful wife. Is that wrong?”
“You want my father’s associates to see me on your arm.”
“Your father’s and your uncle’s. He was better liked than your father if I recall.”
“Will my father be there?” I ask, not liking the feeling of my stomach tensing. It’s easier to tell myself he doesn’t scare me when he’s not around. But the reality isn’t quite that and I don’t like it. It makes me feel weak.