I swallowed hard, hating the way my throat bobbed visibly and gave away the unease I desperately wanted to hide. “Didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter, did I?”
My tongue earned me the faintest hint of a smile, but it didn’t come anywhere near touching his eyes. “In business, Miss Steele, one learns very early that choices are rarely pleasant affairs. Deals are almost never clean or simple.Butthey’re absolutely necessary if one intends to succeed.” He paused, handing me the second cup. “That’s how you win at life.”
I took the mug. “Win what, exactly?”
“In your particular case? Your parents’ considerable fortune,” he replied with casual cruelty. He leaned back against the granite counter, crossing one ankle over the other. “Your father did quite well for himself. The auto shops were profitable enough; certainly, legitimate income always helps with the tax situation. But that wasn’t where the real money came from.”
I stared at him, my pulse thudding so loudly in my ears that it almost drowned out his words. The kitchen was suddenly too small, the air too thick. “You seem to know an awful lot about my father’s business practices.”
“Information is currency,” he replied, taking another measuredsip of his coffee. “Your father understood that. He left you quite a considerable inheritance, the shops, investments, and liquid assets. The total sum is impressive.” His eyes locked onto mine with intensity. “Play your cards correctly, invest with some wisdom, and you’ll live comfortably for the rest of your life without ever needing to work. Assuming, of course, you don’t give me any reason to reconsider our current arrangement regarding your guardianship and access to those funds.”
The implication hung in the air between us. I refused to take the bait, refused to ask what would constitute giving him reason to reconsider. Instead, I sighed slowly through my nose. I had to get out of here, away from him, where I could breathe again. “I’m going to be late for school.” It was the quickest excuse my mind could come up with.
He inclined his head in acknowledgment. “I’m glad to see you’re taking your studies seriously. Perhaps some of that dedication will rub off on my sons.”
I set my untouched coffee on the counter and walked out of the kitchen with as much dignity as I could muster, fighting the urge to break into a run the moment I was out of his line of sight. My heart battered against my ribs, each beat painful and too fast.
I took the stairs two at a time, desperate to put as much distance as possible between myself and the man who held too much power over my future and seemed to take genuine pleasure in reminding me of that fact.
When I got to my room, I swiftly closed the door, pressing my back against it. There was one bright side in all this. I’d been dreading this first confrontation with Donovan, going over the conversation in my head, picking apart my imagined words. Now, it was over. The unknown of it could no longer haunt me.
My head hit the back of the door as I blew out a breath.
Fuck, I left my coffee in the kitchen.
20
KAYLOR
Kreed was already waiting in the circular driveway when I stepped outside, his black SUV idling in the nippy morning air. Exhaust plumed from the tailpipe in white clouds, dissipating slowly in the cold. He leaned casually against the driver’s door, a steaming to-go mug gripped in his hand. “I got you coffee,” he said, offering me the cup.
Normally, I’d make an offhanded comment about loving him, but since the other day, I figured that wasn’t the right thank you, so I opted for something more generic. “God, who knew you could be this thoughtful so early.” I wrapped both hands around the mug, letting the warmth seep into my fingers. The coffee smelled heavenly, warm, rich, and dark, and the first sip lit up every receptor on my tongue. Perfect temperature. A hint of sweetness and just enough bitterness. Kreed knew how I liked it. That alone did dangerous things to my heart.
Mason and Maddox were already sprawled in the back seat when I climbed into the passenger side. “Where’s my coffee?” Mason demanded, one brow arched in betrayal the second Kreed climbed behind the wheel.
“No shit,” Maddox groaned dramatically. “Menace, share.”
I hugged my mug protectively to my chest. “Touch my coffee, and you’ll lose more than your balls.”
Mason snickered, flipping a card between his fingers. “Man, I miss your threats. It’s good to have you back, kitten.”
“What did I say about the nicknames?” Kreed gritted out, gripping the steering wheel as he shifted into drive.
“What did I say about the nicknames?” Mason mocked in his best brooding Kreed voice.
I lost it.
I shouldn’t have laughed, but it was so ridiculous and eerily accurate I couldn’t stop the giggle from bubbling out.
Maddox socked his twin on the shoulder.
The second I put the coffee into the cupholder, Mason snatched it up. “Hey,” I complained, unbuckling my belt and about to crawl into the back seat, when Kreed hit the brakes. Coffee sloshed out the side of Mason’s mouth as he was taking a sip, dripping down his chin and onto his shirt.
“What the fuck, Kreed?” he snapped.
“Get back in your seat, little raven,” Kreed growled before turning around and pinning the twins with a glower. He grabbed the stainless-steel cup. “If you want coffee, get it your damn self. Keep your lips off hers.”
A car honked, swerving around Kreed’s SUV stopped in the middle of the road. Without looking or taking his eyes off his brothers, Kreed flipped the driver off.
