Prologue
Julian
“Everyone’s here,” Jack says as he takes his seat at the otherend of the table.
The soft purple haze of the bar’s lighting reflects on the round glass in my hand, the thick silver ring on my finger tapping gently against the surface. My eyes stay downcast, uncaring and distant. As if I hardly notice where I am or who I’m surrounded by.
As if I’m a hundred miles away instead of at a table surrounded by my peers who are all looking at me, wondering the same thing: Is Ronan Kade about to pass down his legacy to his son or his godson?
My ring taps faster against my glass as I try to pretend I can’t feel their stares.
He addressed the email:Hey kids.
And bykids, he was not referring to me and my sister, Amelia. He was referring toallthe kids—Jack, Elizabeth, Phoenix, Weston, me, and Amelia. Hell, he even threw in Liam, Austin, and Scarlett’s email addresses, although they are not in Paris and probably never will be.
My father has a heart of gold, doesn’t he?
Such a benevolent man. He gives out his love, his pride, his compassion for free to everyone. But the problem is free things have no value.
The man served me and my sister a life of luxury and ease, giving the same treatment to all his friends’ kids as well, even his precious godson, Jack St. Claire.
And if my father were a smart man, he would probably give the club to Jack. Jack is smarter, harder working, better at business and management and all the things it takes to run a successful club.
So why the fuck do I want it so much? To know my father has faith in me? To know he hasn’t given me a life of ease for nothing? To know I compare even a little to Jack?
The truth is I fully believe my father is about to give me the club…but not for one second do I believe I deserve it.
My stomach coils in my gut at the thought.
Sitting in the corner next to Amelia, I maintain my frigid, unapproachable front as I wait for the last person to arrive. What Jack said earlier is not entirely true. Not everyone is here. Jack’s sister, Elizabeth, is taking her time, as usual. Like none of us have lives to attend to. My father is retiring and about to announce his successor, and she can’t show a little punctuality.
Please meet at Geo’s tomorrow at 10 p.m. I have some news.
And that was it. I assume it’s Matis that’s going to show up at some point to deliver my father’s message. The tapping of my ring against the glass grows faster, so I take another drink to try and slow down the racing of my heart. I imagine the scene.
Would Jack be livid or relieved if my dad didn’t name him? It’s a scenario I’ve played a hundred different ways in my mind since that email came in.
The version that rings with the most truth is that my dad has called everyone here to give them some eloquent words of comradery before he tells them he has no choice but to keep the club in the family. He’ll probably encourage them to stick around, keep working at L’Amour, even after I own it.
But the truth is…they won’t.
Good riddance. I’m pretty sure they all hate me anyway.
“So do you think he’s coming?” Jack asks.
I scoff into my drink. “Yeah, right. He’s not coming. He’s probably on a yacht halfway across the world right now. He sent this email to trick us all into meeting here.”
Then I notice the worried look on Jack’s face and swallow the pity bubbling up inside.
“And what about your sister? She’s on the email too,” I add, watching for a glimpse of hope. Jack’s been through hell in the past few years. Shortly after the birth of his daughter, his wife passed from cancer. Since then, he’s lost contact with his sister.
Honestly, I couldn’t fucking imagine. My little sister is my best friend. Growing up in the world we did, there weren’t a lot of people we could trust, but Amelia has been my rock through it all. I’d kill, die, and do anything for her. If one day she stopped talking to me, I don’t know what I’d do. Well, actually, I do.
I’d turn into what Jack has turned into. He’s changed from a proud, content, hardworking man to a contemptuous, scornful, miserable ghost.
The door to Geo’s speakeasy opens, and Elizabeth slinks through the sparse crowd to find our regular table in the back. She won’t look anyone in the eye as she bitterly takes her seat, ignoring the rest of us.
As soon as we’re all assembled, a sense of anticipation fills the air.
