Fuck.
Chapter Six
ENZO
I sitin the town car, even though I have my own vehicle, and wait for Lyndall outside the leafy green street in the West Village.
It is the time of year Dad is upstate, wheeling and dealing with the rich who don't just use the Hamptons for vacation season but stay year-round.
When these people move on for the winter, it is skiing in Europe or heading to the other side of the equator to some island paradise.
Dad does spring and fall in Chicago, the rest of his time in the New York area.
I rub a hand over my face and stare at the page on my computer I have been staring at for the past ten minutes.
Information readily available on Edoardo Costa is sparse, but there is stuff on the Rebecci family. There is stuff on Dom.
But I'm fucked if I can concentrate.
Still, it is not going to change.
Today was an interesting first day as the CEO of BarwonIndustries. And I'm not talking about the whole mess Louie has gotten himself into.
Lola.
How the fuck did she get so pretty?
Sure, she has always been pretty, but not hot pretty, not that pretty which is also sexy. And I'm still trying to work out if pretending to be a wrong number who keeps in touch is a smart idea or one of the dumbest I have ever had.
I check the time.
Normally, I wouldn't be sitting out here on the street in Manhattan in a car on my laptop when I could be home accessing a more powerful database—not that what I can do on a laptop is weak. But I don't have the power or the speed to do what I want in a car.
I check my watch again.
Twenty more minutes until Lyndall should be done with her violin lesson.
Dad should be the one picking her up or sending a car, but he doesn't do shit like that.
Her mom died, so she is stuck living with Dad.
Lyndall might be fifteen, but she knows what she wants, and she doesnotwant to live with our father.
I can't help but compare her to Lola when she was growing up.
Lyndall is rebellious, where Lola was the good girl personified. They are worlds apart in almost every way.
Of course, if Dad had his way, he would ship Lyndall off to the farthest place he could get away with the second her mom died. If he didn't get another son, then he wasn't interested, and that hasn't changed one bit.
Dad isn't happy that she disobeys him. She is a good piece of stock, real estate, call her whatever he might. She is money in the bank down the road if he needs it, and a way to secure future ties he might want.
The moment she turns seventeen or eighteen, he will start shopping her around as bride fodder.
Something I'm sure she is aware of.
He could at least pretend to have an interest in her life. But he doesn't.
Lucky for her, the semester is almost done. She will be spending a few days with me then.
