Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“Bella.” My brother gets to his feet and rounds the desk, concern etched on his face. “What’s wrong?”
Fishing the ring from the pocket of my sweater, I hold it on my palm. “Angelo paid me a visit.”
Ryan blanches. He leans his backside on the desk and shoves his hands in his pockets, observing me in silence.
I wrap my fingers so tightly around the ring that the sharp edges of the diamond cut into my skin. “Did you hear what I said?”
Mom rushes into the room. Celeste follows short on her heels, carrying Brad on her hip. I drop my arm to my side. Brad’s face lights up when he sees me. He gives a shy smile and sucks his thumb into his mouth.
The sight of my nephew in his Spiderman costume calms me. He’s a timid kid. I don’t want to scare him by losing my shit.
“Bella,” Mom exclaims. “I thought you were having a party in Cape Town.”
Sticking her head around the doorframe, Celeste calls for Doris. Brad finally gets over his shyness and extends his arms toward me.
“Hey, Brad.” I take him from Celeste and kiss the top of his curly head, inhaling the scent of his baby shampoo. “How are you, buddy?” I tickle his tummy. “I missed you.”
He giggles. I almost burst into tears when he wraps his chubby arms around my neck.
In a couple of weeks, he’ll already be two years old. He’s growing by leaps and bounds. It goes too fast. I hate missing out on his milestones.
Doris appears on the threshold, her features drawn. “You called for me?”
“Please take Brad upstairs to play,” Celeste says, giving her a meaningful look.
“Come here, big man.” Doris takes him from me. “How about we read a story?” She shoots me a worried glance from over her shoulder as she carries him from the room.
“What’s going on?” Mom asks when they’re gone.
Taking another calming breath, I face my brother. “That’s what Ryan is going to tell me.”
My brother studies me with a stony expression.
“What happened?” Celeste asks, closing the door.
“Angelo happened,” I say, not looking away from Ryan. “I want to know how he got into my house.” I add in a bitter tone, “Or shall I say his house?”
Ryan’s stoic demeanor doesn’t falter.
Mom sinks down on the nearest sofa. “Oh dear God.”
“Why didn’t I know that Angelo Russo was paying my bills?” I ask, praying that Angelo lied, that it was just another one of his mean tricks to torment me. A sick joke. “My food, my clothes? My studies?”
Ryan’s jaw bunches.
“Tell me, Ryan.” I ball my hands at my sides, the ring a painful reminder in my fist. “Tell me it’s not true.”
“It’s true,” Mom says, her shoulders slouching. For once, she doesn’t adopt a proud or angry air. She looks defeated, and it scares me more than anything.
“You knew?” I ask with parted lips.
My mom looks away, refusing to meet my eyes.
I turn to Celeste, betrayal slicing through me. “Did you know too?”
She bites her lip.
“Shit.” I utter a wry laugh. “It seems I’m the only ignorant fool in this room.”
“It’s not like that,” Ryan says.
Anger surfaces again, mixing with the ache that constricts my chest. “Then explain it to me.”
“Angelo Russo took over the business a long time ago,” he says in a placating tone. “Right after he stole Dad’s book.”
The revelation hits me so hard I feel it like a physical blow. “What?” My voice is breathless. “What does that mean?”
“He didn’t only demand shares,” Ryan says. “He took everything.”
I grip the chair back next to me for balance. “I–I don’t understand.”
“We’ve all just been earning an allowance from him since.” Ryan continues with a neutral expression. “In my case, I’m nothing but an employee working for a salary.”
My mouth is so dry I have to swallow before I can get another word out. “Why?”
“He’s greedy.” At last, emotion flickers across Ryan’s face. “Why would he settle for shares if he could have everything?”
The sentiment is so rare for my brother that it takes me a moment to place it.
Hatred.
“The house…” I look around the room. “The house in Bloubergstrand?”
“No.” Ryan crosses his arms. “Dad paid off the bonds. The investments and the houses were always intact.” Ryan’s smile is flat. “The rest is—”
“Charity,” Mom says, all but spitting the word out. She’s staring at the cold fireplace, rocking herself on the edge of the sofa.
“This was happening from the day he stole that book?” I ask, dread filling my veins.
Ryan nods.
How terrible. How humiliating it must’ve been for Dad to live on Angelo’s money. No, not Angelo’s money. The money Angelo stole from my dad when he blackmailed him to sign over his business.
The thought makes me want to empty my stomach. “What about Dad’s savings?”
Ryan straightens and walks to the wet bar. “Most of it was invested in long-term funds. The trust funds were structured to be untouchable in case of bankruptcy.” He pours Dad’s favorite brand of Scotch into tumblers. “We couldn’t touch that money. It could only pay out in the event of his death.”