“What about your sisters?”
Julius’s tone is measured, but I sense the tension in him.
“The same. Tiffany hated her the most because for some reason Morgan favored her, and any task she was set involved waiting on Morgan. Her cruel taunts followed Tiffany around, and one day when she dropped Morgan’s bottle of shampoo, Morgan cut off Tiffany’s hair as a punishment. When our father returned home, Morgan told him that Tiffany had done it herself and we were so frightened of her we didn’t tell him what really happened, knowing it would end badly for us.”
“He must have known.” Julius growls, “Surely he wasn’t so blinkered and just turned a blind eye.”
“Possibly, which doesn’t paint him as father of the year either.”
He smiles, but I sense the burning fury behind it, and I reach for his hand.
“As we grew older and more able to stand up for ourselves, she changed tactics. She invented things we were supposed to have done, implying we were jealous of her. It caused many arguments, which she ultimately won, and soon our father lost his patience and blamed us. He ordered us to behave and to treat her with respect, and we were so afraid of him we did as we were told.”
I falter as the brutal memory resurfaces.
“Then he died.”
I break off and force brightness into my voice.
“Enough about me and my sorry life. I don’t suppose we could grab a sandwich. I have worked up quite an appetite.”
I force myself to grin, and for a moment Julius hesitates and then smiles. “Of course. I believe a feast is waiting in the dining room, so, as always, your wish is my command.”
35
JULIUS
Rose is holding out on me. I saw it in her eyes, and I’m a man who sees through lies, and knows when someone isn’t offering the entire picture. Interrogation is a skill I mastered quickly, which is why I take great delight in using it in our family business.
I run the import and export side of which, in plain layman’s terms, is the drugs and arms side of it. I deal with vile men most of the time and have encountered many volatile situations. I am cruel, heartless and treat my enemies as they deserve, which is why I am in unfamiliar territory now.
Treating Rose so delicately has become a passion I never expected to thrive on. She has made me a new man where it concerns her, and I am protective of this softer side of me. It’s the balance I never realized I needed and if anything, it has made me into even more of a monster than I am already because I am sharpening my claws and preparing to fight her demons who appears to be female and is in Washington as we speak.
Dinner isat an intimate table laid for two in the dining room. The table has been set with candles, and they burn around us on every surface. Romantic for sure, and the food and wine is excellent, but for some reason it all leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
It’s impersonal.
As if we are the king and queen in a vast banqueting hall with silent servants observing our majesty. Rose is being polite, but I can tell she is uncomfortable, and as we sit opposite one another, I make a face.
“What’s that for?” She giggles as I stand, grasping my plate of food and indicating she should do the same.
“Follow me.”
“Where are we going?”
She scurries after me, plate in hand, and I walk at speed toward a room better served for the occasion.
We soon reach the screening room, a more intimate space with huge comfortable chairs and dim lighting, facing a giant screen with a bar set to one side to provide refreshment.
“Make yourself comfortable; this is less formal.”
Her smile could light up any room, and the gratitude in her expression makes me feel like a comic book hero.
“This is perfect.”
She drops into a seat and tucks her feet up under her and places the plate on her lap with a satisfied smile.
“Much better.”
