Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
On the way back to Greyson Manor, Sai doesn’t speak and neither do I, leaving me at the mercy of the thoughts I succeeded in pushing away until now.
As usual, not one word was spoken about my mother at dinner, the woman we were to ‘celebrate’ today. It’s been a long time since I’ve found myself sad over her death. It was so long ago. I was young, and she preferred the company of Boston over me. What mother wouldn’t?
I wanted to shoot guns, throw punches, and swim for hours.
Boston wanted to dance in fluffy costumes, and god forbid she ruined her nails with water.
I am my father’s daughter through and through, but I loved my mom, and I know she loved me. It’s almost as if the universe knew what it was doing when it gave my mother, the woman who was thought to be infertile after four years of marriage went by without a single hint of an heir on its way—the sole purpose of the bride of Rayo Revenaw, even though he did love her in his own way—two babies instead of one, one for her and one for my father, or at least that’s the way I see it. He would have left my mother if my sister and I didn’t come along when we did—a man with such a legacy to leave behind couldn’t possibly fall without an heir waiting to take his place at the top. It just so happens I became what he was waiting for, and Boston … didn’t.
As we pull up to Greyson Manor, coming to a stop, Sai steps out, but rather than the right door opening for me to step out, the left one opens, and my dad slides onto the seat beside me.
He’s silent for a moment, studying me with a tilt of his head. Finally, he says, “You understand that there are roles we sometimes must play, yes?”
“I understand.” I eye him with curiosity and then realization. “You’re not drunk.” I attempt to read his blank expression but come up short. “Dad, what’s going on?”
“We are being watched. By whom, the answer is not yet clear.”
“Enzo’s men?”
“I don’t think so, no, but perhaps. I have a few trusted men looking into it, quietly, of course, but so far, nothing concrete has come back to me. We’re dealing with a shadow, it seems.”
I mull over his words in my head a few times, coming to a conclusion. My eyes widen, and I shift, my body facing his. “You’re creating bait.”
He tips his head back and forth. “Not so much bait as misconception.”
“You know someone is watching, and you chose to put me on that yacht. To put us both on that yacht, right there in the open for dozens along the shore to see.”
“I had men every four hundred feet, darling. I am no fool and I would have protected you with my life, but whoever it is paying such close attention to our family needs to see what I wish for them to. Weaknesses and flaws in our system that do not exist.”
He’s wrong. There are flaws in our system, big ones, but how can I tell him this without giving Bastian up in the process?
“Such as being on a yacht without security and allowing yourself to be intoxicated?”
“Precisely.”
“Are you hoping someone mistakes me for Boston?”
“No.” He pulls a gun from beneath his coat and wipes the handle clean with his pocket square. “What I need is to see if they’re smart or easily set up for failure. If they believe us to be weak or flawed, they will come at us, and we will be ready.”
He holds the weapon out, offering it to me, so I open my palm, and he sets the lightweight metal in my hands.
A small frown builds along my brow as I draw it close, a small golden Greyson crest etched into the bottom of the handle.
“It’s a Staccato XL. Custom built.”
I nod, admiring the work. “It’s lighter than my clutch.”
“I imagine it is.” I look to my father, catching the slight tip of his lips.
His eyes lift to mine, dark and heavy. Suddenly he looks so tired, aged, but in a steely, strong sort of way.
Worry works its way into my veins. “Dad?”
“I cannot leave you in this world unprotected. You know this, yes?”
My pulse spikes. “I am not unprotected. That is what the Greyson society is for.”
“The Greyson society is full of young, impressionable students.”
“They’re essentially trained soldiers.”
“Who wear pleated skirts and gowns or suits purchased with their parents’ money.”
I say nothing, leaving the Greyson’s fast-growing accounts where they belong, in the dark.
“What you’re doing is a good thing, smart and beyond what I would have assumed we’d reach in strides in my lifetime, but those students will graduate. It would be foolish of you to assume the allies made today will be there for every tomorrow.”