“It’s called Kingwood Manor.”
Her chest presses and releases against my back when she sighs. “You live in a manor? Like a mansion isn’t big enough?”
“No. Mansions are smaller.” I pull to the other side of the gate. You can’t see the manor from here, so I take the opportunity to warn her. “It’s big. Really fucking big. I hate it.”
With her head resting on my back, her arms around my middle, she always reads me so well. “You don’t have to hold on to so much anger anymore. I love you, Alexander. I’m here for you. No one else.”
Looking at the long drive ahead that leads to Kingwood Manor, I held this part of my life back wanting to hold on to what we have so hard that I failed to recognize that she’d love me even if I lived in rubble. “You know, Firefly, one day I’m going to do right by you. You deserve it. If anyone deserves happiness, it’s you.”
“What you don’t see is you’ve already made me happy.”
I lift her hand and kiss it before saying, “Hold on tight.”
The mansion comes into view just over the hill and her hold tightens around me. I pull up out front. She swings her leg over and stands there, looking up with Kingwood Manor looming over us. “It’s . . . I’ve never seen anything like this. Not in real life. It looks right out of a travel guide for Europe.”
“It was in my mother’s family. My father liked it the moment he saw it. My mother used to say it was haunted.”
She looks at me wide-eyed. “Is it?”
Chuckling, I set her helmet on the bike. “Not by the dead.”
Walking toward the house, she stays a step behind me. “Sometimes you talk like you’re older.”
“I call it the curse of being an only child. I was stuck around adults all the time.”
“Do you wish you had a sibling?”
Stopping on the steps, I wait for her. “No. I’d not wish this life on anyone.”
“When you say things like that it hurts my heart. I’ll do anything I can to help you. Just tell me how.”
Wrapping her in my arms, I close my eyes. “You’re in my life. That’s all I need.” She’s about to say something, but stops herself and relaxes in my arms. When we part, I take her hand. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
We walk inside. It’s quiet like always. Though I know there are at least three to five employees working right now, the staff stays hidden for the most part. My father just likes things done. He doesn’t want to see it being done. “Are you hungry?”
“Not right now,” she says. “It’s beautiful in here. Lighter than I expected after seeing the outside.”
“My mother liked light and sunshine. After she died, my father had curtains put up along the back wall. Sometimes they’re open, but for the most part they stay closed now.” I can see the sadness on her face as she looks at a photo of my mom on the table in the entryway.
“Show me your room.”
I lead her into the main room and up the stairs to the second story on the south wing. Down the wood-covered hall that leads to my quarters. She whispers, “Is your dad’s room down here too?”
“No. His quarters are in the north wing.”
. . . My eyes open to the loud sound of a knock. Shit. How long was I out? I ramble up, rubbing my eyes. I open the door and see one of the maids. “Your guests are waiting in the dining room.”
“Fuck.” Scrubbing my face, I forgot. “Dinner?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Thank you. I’ll be down in a few minutes. Please let them know and make sure they have drinks.”
“They do.”
“Thank you.”
She curtsies when she backs away, so I add, “Don’t do that. I’m not my father.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Just call me Alexander.”
“Yes, Alexander.”
The cycle’s not going to be broken in one night. I need to make changes, but I have other more pressing business to handle first. Like this dinner. I’m dreading it. But like everything else right now, it needs to be dealt with so I can focus on more important business. Like Sara Jane. God, I miss her.
I splash water on my face and change shirts before heading downstairs to the dining room. The transition team is here to close out some final details to sell Kingwood Enterprises. Nastas O’Hare and Connor Johnson are seated at the far end of the table with half-full highball glasses in front of them. I stop before entering. “My father used to sit at the head of this table—he made many deals here that made Kingwood the billion-dollar corporation it is today.”
Nastas’s smarmy smile and fake laugh do him no favors. “You’re a very rich man, Alex.”
“Mr. Kingwood,” I correct his disrespect. “I’m not my father, but remove yourself from that seat.”
He stands quickly and shuffles around the table. “We, umm, brought the paperwork for you to sign. This will close out two deals tonight. That leaves three other divisions, and we have offers to sort through for those.”
Connor tosses paperwork down on the shiny wood surface. “We don’t have to take much of your time, Mr. Kingwood.”
Sarcasm coats my name when it leaves his mouth. I should punch him the fuck out, but this is business of a different sort. I have no intention of following in my father’s footsteps; I need this company off my shoulders. I sit at the head of the table and start reading over the contract they’re presenting. I only make it to page two before the dots connect. “This says the liaisons will receive a three percent fee. Your money was paid upfront by my father.”
Shifty Eyes Johnson starts stuttering some excuse, “We, uh, were t-told. A deal was made. We c-can’t change-ge it.”
“What do you mean a deal was made? On whose behalf?”
Nastas tells him to shut up and takes the opportunity to state his lies as if they’re truths. “Your father owes us a stake in the sale of these two divisions. We deserve it.”
“My father would never pay twice. The deal was cleared and paid months ago. He didn’t become wealthy by being a fool with his money.”
I notice how tightly fisted Nastas’s hand is balled. “Your father owes us. Since he’s dead. You take on his debt.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Threatening is an ugly word. We want what’s owed. Nothing more.”
“What did you do for my father other than try to steal money from him?”
“You have led a very sheltered life, Mr. Kingwood. Your father didn’t become wealthy from playing by the rules. So before you take your father’s reputation and set it on a pedestal, you should be careful how you choose to move forward. There is a lot of dirt out there that can blow back on you. I suggest you sign the papers and move on with your life.”
I lost any semblance of patience when the threats were thrown in. “Or what?”
“Or you’ll regret going back on a deal that your daddy made while you were off fucking up your life.”