It takes us a few minutes to get downstairs, through the foyer, past one of the sitting rooms, one of the dining rooms, and into the corridor that leads to the staff wing.
While none of them would likely snitch on us, we still do our best to stay quiet as we stride past the lounge and turn down the long office hallway that leads to the exit.
The cool night air feels more inviting than ever because Dean is breaking the rules to go on a ride with me.
“Let’s go,” I whisper excitedly as the door closes behind us.
Like stealthy spies, we sneak around the side of the building, slowly making our way to the front, where our two black Ducati bikes are parked.
Our helmets are still hanging on them from earlier. Thankfully, it didn’t rain.
We both slip them on and mount our bikes, revving the engines to life. We’re not too worried about our father hearing them, as his wing is on nearly the opposite side of the house.
“After you.” I gesture before flipping the visor of my helmet down.
A smile slips free from his restraint as he does the same before taking off and leading us down the long, winding driveway toward the front gate.
Holding my hand up, I signal our new attendant, Roy, to be quiet about our little late-night escapade.
He smiles sweetly, mimics my gesture, and opens the gate, setting us free.
Axolotl. Beaver. Cat. Donkey. Elephant. Frog. Giraffe. Hippo. Iguana. Jaguar. Koala. Lemur. Mouse. N?—
Why am I getting stuck onN? Usually, it’sQor a more challenging letter, likeUorY, that catches me up during my second run-through.
I should’ve switched to food. I haven’t done that one in a while.
Food, animals, names—it doesn’t matter what the topic is. My brain runs with it, listing them out in alphabetical order.
It’s something I’ve done my whole life when I needed to get away, to disappear somewhere that responsibility and name don’t matter.
“Are you listening to me right now?”
My father’s voice slices through my running thoughts, and my chest instantly tightens at his disappointment.
Fuck.No, I wasn’t, but I can’t say that plain as day.
“Dean, for the love of God”—my father pinches the bridge of his nose, his sigh echoing around the vaulted walls of his office and against the colorful stain glass window that stretches from the floor to the ceiling behind his desk, creating a loving image of my parents—“are you listeningat all?”
I nod sharply, sitting up taller in the wingback chair. “Sorry.”
He starts talking again like I barely comprehend English. “Tomorrow, you and I are meeting with the head of Van Hartley, the jewelry company. They are looking to sell, and I want Kensington Industries to win the bid. Study up tonight. I need you on your A game, not”—he waves his hands in the air toward my general vicinity, his lips curled—“this.”
“Yes, sir,” I concede, mentally noting the company’s name.Van Hartley.
This isn’t the first time I’ve pretended to be an interested businessman, even though I couldn’t give a shit about Van Hartley.
But my job tomorrow isn’t about truly caring. It’s about the acquisition. As if we don’t already have enough on our plates between reality, anthropology work, hotels, tech, and numerous assorted businesses.
There’s a reason the Kensington name is one known across the world. We are one of the richest families in existence. I’m not talking millions. I’m talking billions. A household name. Generational wealth that will stand the test of time … and I will sit on the throne.
Along with that level of success comes a lot of baggage. Expectations, not just from family and friends, but society too. How we act, dress, speak,perform. My entire life has been a masterclass on how to wear a persona as a mask.
Lately, I think I’ve had more time with it on than without. But what’s the saying?Fake it until you make it? I think that’s what I’m doing, faking it until I don’t feel the empty, throbbing black hole in my chest.
Until then, I’ll put a smile on my face, a joke on the tip of my tongue, and hide everything I’m really feeling inside.
A knock sounds on my father’s office door, thankfully cutting the tension with a knife, granting me some reprieve.
