揌ow are things with Scarlett??my father asks abruptly.
I tense, realizing the lack of transition means this must have something to do with her. 揊ine.?
揜eally??
揧es. Really,?I reply. 揑 don抰 think my marriage is any of your business.?
揙f course it is. She serves a purpose.?My father tosses a manilla envelope onto the shiny wood separating us. 揝he抯 cheating on you, Crew.?
Shock freezes me for a few seconds.
揥hat??
揗y best PI took these two weeks ago. They met outside The Chatwell and were inside for over an hour. He had a room booked. It wasn抰 the first time. All the records are in there. They抳e been meeting regularly for the past year.?
I don抰 say a word as I open the envelope and let the glossy photographs spill out. They抮e bad. Nathaniel抯 hand resting on Scarlett抯 lower back. His lips on her cheek. One shows them standing in the lobby while he whispers into her ear. I can抰 see her expression in any of them, but Nathaniel looks smug.
Two weeks ago. These were taken before Italy, before we slept together. It doesn抰 feel like much of a consolation. We were already married. The surgeon was bad enough, but at least I didn抰 have to see evidence of it. Nathaniel Stewart rarely pops up at parties, but he attends some events. I抣l have to see his smug face in person at some point梐nd not plant my fist in it.
揇o you spy on all of your business partners??
My father leans back in his chair, studying me closely. 揧es. I抦 not about to climb into a crowded bed. A man about to be bled dry by a vengeful wife isn抰 of much use to me. Not every woman is as understanding as Candace.?The cavalier way he talks about his second wife looking away from his affairs would bother me if I could look away from the photographs.
I gather them up and stuff them back into the envelope so I don抰 have to keep staring at them.
揝carlett can do whatever the hell she wants. I do.?The words taste bitter on my tongue.
揘o, she can抰， Crew. She抯 a Kensington, part of the future of this family. Spreading her legs for potential business partners is not an option. Keep her in line.?
I work my jaw. 揑抣l handle it, okay??
揌andle it how??
揑 don抰 know yet. Give me more than five minutes to think about it.?I may disagree with plenty of the things my dad says and does, but he抯 my father, my boss, and arguably the most powerful man in the country. The sharp tone I snap those two sentences in isn抰 one I抳e ever used with him before.
He doesn抰 call me out on it, even when Oliver抯 eyes widen. 揑 spoke with Sebastian Crane last week. Talked him out of taking his business elsewhere, after you assaulted his son.?
揅amden had it coming.?
My father shakes his head. 揟his spell of stupidity ends now, Crew. She may be beautiful, but she抯 just a piece of pussy. Pull it together, before you embarrass this family.?
I抳e never wanted to hit my father more. 揑 said I抣l handle it.?
Brown eyes pin me in place. I抳e never been more grateful I inherited my mother抯 blue ones instead. I look more like her than Oliver does, and I抳e always wondered if that抯 why my father heaps me with more. More responsibility, more praise, more disappointment. It all depends on the day. Whatever he finds seems sufficient.
揋ood.?
Oliver was too cowardly to interject in our conversation before, but he does me a solid and brings up some production issue with an overseas company. I pretend to listen, scratching out notes on a legal pad and stealing glares at the manilla envelope that puts Scarlett and me right back where we started: strangers.
My mood hasn抰 improved by the time I stalk into my office. I nod at everyone who greets me, not even bothering with a hello.
Asher is in his usual spot: feet propped up on the corner of my desk. He grins when he sees me, waiting for me to comment. I抦 too pissed to care where he sets his shoes. My skin hums with restless energy that simmers in my blood.
The last time I felt this unhinged, I punched Camden Crane. Before the Fourth of July, I抎 been in one fight. It was in a Boston bar. A guy bumped into me and was drunk enough to think I shoved him. He threw the first punch, and I dropped him in one blow I抎 consider self-defense. I抦 not an irrational guy. I have a temper but I keep it closely leashed. Or at least I used to, before I married Scarlett.
揋ood morning to you too, sunshine,?Asher says. When I don抰 reply, he adds, 揑 thought people were supposed to come back from vacation all relaxed. You look like you just attended your own funeral. I mean厰 He lifts his feet and raises his eyebrows. 揧ou didn抰 even say anything.?
Sunshine. I snort. He should have seen me before eight a.m. I was fucking whistling when I walked into the building. Now, I yank my chair away from the desk so hard it almost topples. 揑抦 fine.?