Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Kaitlyn’s face brightens at the mention of her dolls. She nods, a smile tugging at her lips. “Can we play in the game room?”
My chest warms that she’s familiar with Caius’s home and knows it well enough to have a favorite spot to play. After she pulls off her outerwear and kicks off her snowy boots, I let her lead the way up the stairs. Once we’re settled on the floor, each of us on either side of the coffee table, inspecting her dolls, I ask a question that’s driving me crazy.
“Do you like your nanny?”
Her full-bodied shudder is the only answer I need.
Caius
Theo is visibly shaken by Gareth’s death. I wish he’d learn to button up his emotions better. They’re ripe for exploitation.
In this family, they will be exploited if available.
His are practically presented on a silver platter.
Dark shadows ring his eyes and his lips remain tugged into a perpetual frown. If I know Theo, he’s taking this the hardest. Dad adopted him ten years ago. I was seventeen and Gareth was fifteen. At age ten, he desperately craved love, and Dad doled it out generously. Losing a brother he adored must be heartbreaking for Theo.
Even knowing Gareth’s dark, twisted tendencies, Theo always gave him the benefit of the doubt. He’s loyal like that.
As for me, though?
Me and Gareth never saw eye to eye. He did things that made me blind with rage. I never acted upon that rage…until I finally did.
I lock up that night tightly in my mind. Sitting in front of Dad and Theo while reminiscing on how I lost my shit, subsequently murdering my brother, will only make my guilt obvious.
This is the ultimate psyop.
I’d like to think that if I explained the situation to Dad, he’d forgive me and be understanding. It’s not like he didn’t know Gareth’s issues. However, my losing control and potentially exposing our family is something that is unforgivable. Too much is at stake.
Dad and Theo drift into a conversation about Gareth when he was a teenager. Their laughter should warm my frigid heart, but it doesn’t. My thoughts keep drifting back to the yacht.
Romy has complicated everything.
Sure, she was my ticket into getting closer to Solomon, and that worked, but in return, she jeopardized everything.
She spied on him in his office, for fuck’s sake.
It takes everything in me not to grit my teeth and fist my hands. I’ve spent the better part of a dozen years perfecting my control on my emotions. While the boiling fury never truly goes away, I’ve learned how to keep it stuffed deep down inside me so that no one ever sees its explosive radiance.
Romy saw the real me.
Like I said. She complicates everything.
There’s something about her that stirs up my torturous feelings. At times, I want to—and have—pop off on her, revealing my carefully hidden anger. Other times, I get lost in this false narrative of her being my girlfriend. We both know its bullshit, yet we keep getting swept up in the lies.
So when I saw my brother fucking raping her, I lost it.
Now he’s dead and I’m having to do major cleanup.
Disgust knifes its way through me, nearly causing me to jolt with pain. I’ve worked so hard for so long to find Calista and all my efforts are likely ruined. Solomon sure as hell isn’t going to want to open up to me now that I’ve got the police eyeballing him under a microscope. Accident or not, a man died after having been on his yacht. He’s probably pissed.
Not like I stuck around long enough to find out.
I got Romy the hell out of there as quickly as I could.
“Something on your mind?” Dad asks, turning his attention my way.
It’s then I realize I’m tense and popping my knuckles. I relax my muscles and meet his gaze with an impassive stare.
“Just wondering about the blowback from Gareth’s stupid, drunken mistake,” I clip out, making sure to show just enough annoyance to be believable.
Theo huffs, a flash of anger crossing his features. “Not everything is a power play, Cai,” he barks out. “Sometimes you can live in your feelings a little bit. You should try it sometime.”
Before I can smart off, Dad holds up a hand. “Boys. No need to argue. We’re all upset, but clawing at each other’s throats won’t bring Gareth back.”
Who the hell wants to bring him back?
Wisely, I keep that retort trapped in my mouth.
“I just question Solomon’s loyalty,” I say instead. “Gareth’s untimely death brought attention on Solomon. You know how he is.”
Dad nods. “Solomon can be angry all he wants, but he’s merely an investor. He doesn’t pull the strings around here.”
Who does pull the strings?
This feels like a morsel of truth I’ve never been given before. Probing Dad on it could only shine light on my interest thus having him withhold it. I must tread lightly here.