“I know it doesn’t change things, but I promise you I never wanted to hurt you. Any of you. When my father first told me about the situation, I put up an argument. He made it clear I had to come if I wanted to keep living my usual lifestyle. When I showed up here, I wasn’t expecting to find what I did. Again, you don’t have to believe me, but when I went home, I did try and convince him to invest instead of buy you out.”
She snorted. “And that means nothing to me. Or my family.”
I sighed. “Sylvie, my dad explained it to me as a good thing. And I know you don’t see it now, but the money is the best thing for all of you.”
“Fuck you!”
I flinched. She never cursed. Not like that.
She shoved at my chest. “Don’t tell me what is best for me. You don’t know me. I’m not like you or your family. Me and my people aren’t greedy assholes. You’re selfish. You have everything and you want more. You want to take, take, take. Fuck everyone else, right? As long as you have the money to buy a new yacht, who cares what you do? Who cares that people’s entire lives will be changed? Who cares that generations of families will have to move on because you people want more money? How rich are you, Kent? I read up on you guys. Billions. Each of you has billions. Some of you have even been in the top ten richest people in the world at some point. How do you spend that much money in a lifetime? You can’t, can you? But that doesn’t matter. As long as you can sit on your pile of money and look down at us peasants and laugh. Make fun of our country ways and silly traditions. Fuck you, Kent Bancroft. Truly, fuck you.”
I was the one that was on the verge of tears. I’d been told off more times than I could count. I had been called every name in the book, but none of that bothered me. I had thick skin.
But damn. She went right for my sensitive underbelly. Every word landed. And I had no defense. Iwasan asshole. Iwasstupid rich. And when I first showed up, I did look down on the people around here.
“I’ll leave tomorrow morning,” I said quietly. “First thing. You won’t have to see me again. I would leave now, but I can’t drive.”
Her expression shifter to surprise. “You’re going back to New York?”
“Yeah. This whole thing has been a disaster from start to finish. I think it’s time I cut my losses.”
She stared at me with all that pain reflecting back on me. I found myself memorizing her face. The way her hair fell in waves around her shoulders, the constellation of freckles across her nose. The way her lips pressed together when she was thinking hard about something.
“My father will kill you if he finds you sleeping in the lodge tonight,” she said finally. “We all hoped you had already gone.”
Ouch.I should have known I wouldn’t be welcome on the property for even one more night.
“I can grab my stuff and find somewhere else,” I said, though honestly I had no idea where. The nearest hotel was thirty minutes away, and something told me word of what had happened today would travel fast in a town this size.
I was not going to be welcome anywhere, even if I could get a ride. The couple that brought me home had been kind enough to have the wife follow behind in the rental. But no way in hell was I going to drive.
Sylvie looked up at the ceiling and muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like a curse. When she looked back at me, resignation had replaced some of the anger in her eyes.
“You can crash here,” she said grudgingly. “But you have to be gone by five in the morning. I mean it, Kent. Five on the dot.”
Relief flooded through me, though I tried not to let it show too much. “Deal.”
“Go get your shit. Do your best to avoid talking to anyone. I cannot be responsible for the actions of my family. And I may or may not encourage them to beat the tar out of you.”
“Understood.”
The walk back to the lodge to collect my things felt like a funeral march. The Christmas lights that had seemed so magicalbefore looked garish and mocking. The whole place felt different, tainted by what had happened.
I managed to make it to my room without being seen. I quickly packed and then because I hoped it would help, I left a hundred-dollar bill for the housekeeper. I carried my bag downstairs. I heard a noise and looked to see Brom crouched by the fireplace, stirring the dying embers back to life with a poker.
He didn’t look up when I appeared, just continued his methodical stirring. The silence stretched between us, thick with tension.
I knew he saw me. I should say something, but I didn’t know what. And Sylviedidwarn me they wanted my head on a silver platter.
“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” he said finally, still not looking at me.
“Brom, I’m sorry.”
“No.” He stood up, turning to face me fully. In the flickering firelight, he looked older than his years, worn down by responsibilities that should never have fallen on someone so young. “You don’t get to explain this away. You hurt my baby sister. You got her hopes up, made her think maybe things could be different for us, and then you crushed her.”
Each word was like a nail being driven into a coffin. My coffin.
I stood there and let him continue because I knew he needed to vent. I deserved every word of it.
