The King estate sat perched on the north end of town, where the streets turned into private lanes, and the driveways were long enough to land a plane.Blackwood royalty, people said. They weren’t wrong.
The house came into view—stone and glass and architectural ego. Clean lines. Cold edges. It didn’t matter that I’d grown up there. It always made me feel as if I was visiting.
Inside, the house hummed with tension. Claire’s laugh drifted from the sitting room, too light to be relaxed. Mom’s heels clicked decisively against the hardwood as she entered the dining room with a bottle of red already opened.
“There you are,” she said, handing it to the server. “Decant that. He’s late.”
Not a question. Not a surprise. Just a statement about my father. The man was never early to family dinners. He made a show of walking in last.
Drew stood at the window, his back straight, posture military sharp. His club soda and lime stayed untouched on the credenza. Claire approached him, smoothing the lapel of his jacket lovingly. Her voice was quiet but not private. “You good?”
“Always.” Drew’s eyes remained on the window.
Bullshit. He only said that when things weren’t.
I stepped farther in. Claire looked over at me and smiled—pleasant and too polished, with her stylish dark-blond hair smoothed to perfection and falling just shy of her shoulders. She did her best to look the part of my family but would never fully fit in with the sharks that we were; she was too nice.
“Luke.” She moved to kiss my cheek. Her perfume was light and expensive, fitting everything else about her.
“Claire.” I nodded but didn’t return the smile.
Dinner was served like a board meeting. Everyone took their seats by habit, not invitation. My mom at one end, my dad’s empty chair still commanding presence at the other. Drew sat beside Claire. I took the spot across from them, my body taut as it always was at these things.
Mom poured the wine then folded her napkin. “Well. Let’s begin.”
Dad entered just then, coat draped over his arm, tie loosened—but deliberate. He was power incarnate—gray at the temples, sharp lines carved around his eyes, and a presence that made rooms hold their breath. Mom was his contrast in every visual—blond hair twisted into a perfect French knot, diamonds flashing from ears, throat, fingers. Pale-pink Chanel sleeveless sheath dress that clung to her like a secret she didn’t want exposed.
“Apologies,” he said. “Lorne needed a few things clarified before our next round of acquisitions.”
I didn’t miss the look Drew sent him. A flicker of something that might’ve been approval or irritation or both flashed across his face.
My father sat. “What’s so urgent it required rescheduling dinner?”
I leaned forward, fingers laced under the table, deciding to take point on this family get-together. “Elise said something concerning.”
My mom set down her fork. “She says a lot of things, dear.”
“She implied Dunn Industries is ready to make a move. Something about alliances. Power shifting. She wasn’t being subtle.”
Drew tilted his head. “She never is. What kind of move?”
“Didn’t say. But she offered security. Protection. Suggested when things go sideways for us, she and her father would be a better alliance.” I didn’t add that it was specifically about me; they could come to their own conclusions there.
My father’s expression didn’t flicker. But his fingers tapped once against his glass before going still. “Interesting.”
My mother’s gaze sharpened. “Sounds rehearsed.”
“It was,” I agreed. “Too clean. Like she’d practiced it.”
“She has,” Claire added smoothly. “As you know, I’m on good terms with several of the faculty at Blackwood academy. One of the advisors overheard Elise on a call last week. She was asking someone if the PR firm her dad uses could be hired on retainer.”
Good terms was one way of putting it. Between donations and discreet favors, half the faculty owed us something. And now I knew how Claire was carving out her place in the game.
“Why would she need PR?” Drew asked.
Claire smiled faintly. “Because she’s planning to attach herself publicly to Luke. She wants the optics lined up.”
My jaw clenched. I looked at my dad. “What’s Dunn Industries doing?”
