“You told me your mother was nice and sweet,” she says between gritted teeth. “Remember? When we were at Harvard?”
“Mystepmother. Akiko. I always wished she could be my mom—my only mom—and at that time it felt like she was, because my real mom stayed away.”
“Well, she isn’t staying away now. And she won’t stay away, either. She says she’s sending more women for you to impregnate, and that I’d better hurry up. She even gave me this to help.” Fiona slaps a bag full of white powder on my chest. “This is supposedly more potent than what you had last night.”
I curse, trying to figure all of the angles. Mom’s out of control. She let Lareina’s cousin out of prison to fuck Lareina up because she wouldn’t play ball. Although there was no concrete evidence to convict Mom in court, Ares, Josh and I knew. She will only escalate—every criminal does, for a bigger payoff, more thrills and a greater reputation. In Mom’s case, she has to establish a rep brutal enough to make up for her lack of penis.
What Harvey said fleets through my head. Vincent’s become more sentimental now that he’s older. He doesn’t want anything to happen to Lareina because she’s now family. After getting the cousin out of prison, Mom hasn’t gone after Lareina probably because she was worried about how things would look to Vincent.
I look at Fiona’s pale face. If we got married, it’d keep both of us safe. Mom wouldn’t be able to send more women because Vincent wouldn’t approve of her trying to sow discord between a newly wedded grandson and his wife. And she wouldn’t be able to harass Fiona anymore because she’d be family.
“Let’s get married,” I say.
“What?Marryyou?” Fiona stares at me for several heartbeats. “Are you fucking crazy?”
“It isn’t that terrible.” I try not to sound insulted. Objectively speaking, I’m a great catch. Young, smart with a trust fund worth over two billion. Healthy, in shape and not bad looking. Once Fiona has a moment to think it over, she’ll see that, too. “The thing is, we’llhaveto get married if we want her off our backs.”
“Oh my God. It’s bad enough I’m stuck with you until I pay off the two million, butthis?”
My impatience rises at her horrified expression. Perhaps she needs a starker reminder of what she’s facing. “You only have two options: me or my mother.”
Fiona slowly blinks. Twice. Then she covers her mouth, runs to the bathroom and promptly loses her breakfast.
Chapter Twenty-One
Bryce
My head throbs, but I refuse to skip poker night with my brothers just for a headache. Especially since Josh would give me shit until I wanted to punch him in the face—he wants a chance to avenge himself. He isn’t thrilled he lost a thousand bucks on our latest wager because my legal theory was the one the SCOTUS adopted in the latest ruling. Apparently, he believes winning a thousand bucks in a poker game will make us even, although I’ll still be the smarter and better-looking twin.
But more important is the need to warn my brothers of what Mom and Harvey are up to. She’s as psychotic as ever, but Harvey? He was a bittoohelpful and forthcoming. Didn’t even try to drug me. It’s like a viper trying to cuddle with you—can’t possibly turn out well.
I have four Tylenols, which are slow to kick in. Or perhaps the cause isn’t physical, but mental. My mind keeps replaying what happened since that chick drugged me. There are a lot of what-ifs, but no matter how I slice and dice it, I made the best decisions I could, given the circumstances.
Josh is hosting tonight’s game, and has catered a massive deli spread centered around roast beef, as well as put out a box of Cohiba Behikes to puff for the evening. Hibiki Blossom Harmony whiskey is also here for us to indulge in. Delicate and fleeting, it’s one of my favorites.Josh doesn’t give anybody a chance to talk, too eager to start. He deals before I can pour my first whiskey.
I take a sip of Hibiki and glare at my hand. A king of spades and a ten of clubs. Not bad, not bad at all.
Josh tosses a chip into the pile with a sly grin, which nobody should trust, since he lies well. He can beat a lie detector with ease, and a couple of lawyers at the firm have used him to prove the unreliability of lie detectors in court.
“You’ve sighed four times in the past two minutes. That bad of a hand, or something else?” Josh asks, peering at me over his cards.
I knock back my drink.
“Amélie said you were sick this morning.” Ares frowns. “You still feeling bad? We could’ve changed the date.”
“I’m not sick. It was Mom.”
The atmosphere around the table changes instantly. Gone is the light mood, replaced by a suffocating oppressiveness.
“She came to you?” Ares bristles. Out of the three of us, he harbors the greatest hatred for her. Well deserved, since she nearly killed him.
“What did she want?” Josh demands.
I rub the aching spot between my eyebrows. “I should clarify. I spoke with Harvey, and didn’t get to talk to her. She went after Fiona.”
“Harvey, too?” Ares clenches his hand around his cards, probably fantasizing that they’re Harvey’s neck. He still hasn’t forgiven our uncle for drugging him in Las Vegas.
“He was civilized, considering. Gave me info about what’s going on with the Dunkels and lots of warnings about Mom—like I would ever trust her again.” I roll my eyes, then share what Harvey told me.
