My mouth drops open. I know enough to know that isn’t true at all. The anger that surges through me is out of my control as I step between Faiz and Kristopher with my fists clenched and an angry glare directed at his father. The words are out of my mouth before I think about them. “Who are you trying to convince, Faiz? Yourself? Because the rest of the world already knows who’s really running the business. We already know who is behind this family’s success, and it’snotyou. Without your son, there would be no business. There would be nothing, because you and your ego would have destroyed everything.”
I feel Kristopher’s hand wrap around my arm as he gently, but insistently, pulls me away from his father and pushes me behind himself.
My chest is heaving with anger towards the man. I’ve only met him once, and already he’s proven that he’s every bit as horrible as Jess and Kris have described.
“Thank you for stopping by. You can leave now,” Kristopher says curtly.
“Indeed,” Faiz snaps, turning away from us and marching towards the door. Guilt washes over me. Kristopher has beentrying to get a meeting with his father for so long—did I just mess it up? The same way I messed up his engagement to the perfect woman, Leora?
I stand tense, waiting, while Kristopher watches his father leave. The front door closes, and he spins towards me with anger furrowing his brow. “What the hell was that?” he snarls.
“I…he…” I stammer, taking a nervous step back. “He had no right to say that to you.”
“He’s always like that. He’s always an asshole. I don’t need you involving yourself in things that have nothing to do with you,” he snaps at me, towering over me.
“I was just trying to stand up for you,” I whisper, my voice breaking as I fight tears.
“Well, don’t. Don’t ever do that again. Next time, mind your own business.”
I nod, refusing to look at him in case he sees the tears shining in my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I mutter, then push past him to the door. I have to get to class. I have to get out of here.
I’m so embarrassed, and no matter how much I try to convince myself I shouldn’t be, I’m incredibly hurt over what his father told me about the girl he was supposed to marry. And now his reaction.
Everything is falling apart. My stupid dream. My stupid hope.
Although something can’t ‘fall apart’ if it was never real to begin with.
Chapter 13 - Kristopher
Devoid of emotional tells, I sit opposite Ali Koskos at an exclusive restaurant in the city. This morning’s rather unexpected, however brief, run-in with my father left me with a bitter taste in my mouth and more urgency to resolve this issue. And now I’m here, playing nice with Koskos while he believes he has the upper hand.
“You are a fool for turning my daughter’s hand in marriage down. Any man who had any brains would have leapt at the opportunity. Have you seen her? And of course, the powerful name you could have allied with.” He scoffs, shoving a slice of blue-rare steak into his mouth. His ego is as blatant as my father’s. I can’t imagine this man being my father-in-law. What new kind of hell would that be? It would be as bad as replicating my own father, and suddenly there’d be two of him.
“We can’t have everything we want, I guess I have to accept my loss in that decision,” I remark, pretending to take his mocking tone in stride, to be somewhat disappointed in my decision to choose Georgie over what Icouldhave had, marrying his daughter.
Inwardly, I laugh at the thought of anyone standing a chance against Georgie. It’s a joke. An impossibility. She is too perfect.
“How is business in your new territory? Are you all set up and operational?” I ask, gently steering the conversation towards the land he obtained from me.
He stabs his fork into another practically raw slice of steak and shoves it into his mouth. I envision myself grabbing the fork from his hand and shoving it into the side of his throat,then sitting back and watching him drown in his own blood. It amuses me. The thought gives me a sense of calm.
He chews loudly, with juices from the meat running down his chin. It makes my stomach churn to play nice with this man. Even though I am here to manipulate him, to play the game, to be the Brava leader I am so apt at being…it still disgusts me to interact with him.
I have to look away to hide the flicker of disgust that pulses through me.
“This might be the best steak I’ve had in this city,” I remark, cutting into my piece. “Thank you for recommending this place.”
I was never interested in coming here before, simply because it’s one of my father’s favorite hangouts, and I always prefer to avoid him.
But when I got hold of Ali this afternoon, and he agreed to join me for an early dinner, I gave him the pick of the venue. No surprise he chose this place. I could have guessed.
I have no purpose for meeting him, nothing I want to discuss, nothing to talk about, but I do have something going on behind the scenes.
I made Ali believe I was playing nice after losing my land to him, that I wanted to smooth over our deal, make sure he was happy there. But in reality, I want to keep his attention on me while my spies explore the territory. I want them to infiltrate and find out anything and everything they can regarding what he’s using the land for—and most importantly, if my father is hovering around there.
So, I suffer through the insufferable, having dinner with him, followed by a drink. The man gloats and lets his ego spin,but he doesn’t give anything away. He’s obviously wary of what he says around me, which makes me more convinced he has something to hide.
It’s a relief when dinner comes to an end, and I can finally leave the restaurant and his company.
