“I took the drinks up because I’m not going to make that poor bastard behind the desk do manual labor that I could do myself.”
It’s a familiar dig at me.
“You could have worked hard and made all this money too,” I snap, even though I know I should keep my mouth shut.
But I’m pretty sure my stepbrother stole my girlfriend’s panties, and I’m not keeping the peace with him anymore.
“No, because I couldn’t profit off of my own mother’s kidnapping. But you know, we just have different values.”
“You took that money too. No one told you to drop out of high school,” I snarl at him.
He brushes past me, checking me with his shoulder.
“Oh, did Kraig actually make it?” Hannah exclaims when I follow Kraig into the dining room.
“What the fuck? Kraig is coming?” Max says around his pizza.
“I know, right?” Bridget says. “He never wants to do these things.”
“No, I do want to do these things,” Kraig challenges them and wrenches a chair away from the table. “Graham is the one who never wants to do them. I work. I have a real job. You guys don’t know what it’s like to actually have to work, that’s all.” Kraig laughs like it’s a joke.
He’s always resented Frank remarrying. It’s just weird that he’s directing it at the half-siblings. Usually it’s just at me.
After our mom was rescued, people sent money and donations. There was a big lawsuit. I helped Mom manage her money, made sure she never had to work if she didn’t want to. And she spoiled her kids—including Kraig, though he’d never admit it.
“Have some pizza, Kraig?” Claire offers awkwardly.
“You guys bought the fancy stuff.”
“It’s New York City,” I remind him tersely. “It’s all fancy.”
He scowls at me.
Bridget opens up her binder. Everyone seems uncomfortable.
I glare at Kraig across the table as he scarfs down the pizza, getting it in his scraggly beard.
Hannah takes a deep breath.
“So—the anniversary party. Mom and Frank never had a big wedding with a reception with all their friends and family, so we want to really blow it out. We’re thinking the Maxine Hotel—it’s historic—or the Westbridge Country Club. We’re just not a hundred percent sure on the dates yet. Dad is talking about taking Mom to Scotland with Mom’s parents.”
“Just go ahead and book both,” I tell her.
“They require deposits.”
“I told you, just put it on the credit card.”
Kraig has a sour look on his face as he picks olives off his pizza.
“There’s a plain cheese, you know.” I hate having him in my house. I hate knowing that he has Dani’s panties.
I’ve been stewing on it for days, and I finally settled on just paying Hudson Wynter to have one of his guys steal them back—though I really had to talk myself out of upgrading to the deluxe assassination package.
Kraig’s lucky I don’t have the Wynter brothers throw him out a window.
My phone rings. It’s Hudson.
I leave my siblings to go over the minutiae of party planning and head to my study.
