Page 41 of Ruthless Lord

Charlie

I t’s a sad day when someone dies.

Normally, anyway.

Mourners sob beside Grandfather’s grave. Women I’ve never seen before. I can’t tell if they were mistresses or what. Maybe he promised them the world in exchange for what they gave him. Or maybe they’re just trying to get attention. I don’t really know, and it doesn’t really matter.

Stefano remains by my side all day. The service is a blur and the burial is a blink. All the shit the priest says, my father’s simpering eulogy, it’s all just noise.

Harrison Westbrook wasn’t a great man.

He made money. He was definitely good at that. But in life, he was a ruthless, bitter, vicious old bastard. He treated me and everyone else in his life like property. If you weren’t useful, he didn’t give a fuck about you.

Everyone’s acting like the world lost a giant. Like just because he built a company means he was a worthwhile human.

But he wasn’t.

Harrison Westbrook was a piece of shit.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” A state senator shakes my hand and slips me his card. “Feel free to call my office anytime. I had a good relationship with your grandfather.”

A business magnate follows, a man I’ve only ever seen on TV. Another card shoved into my hand. I get lunch and dinner invitations, along with more than a few suggestive smiles and winks.

“Grandfather had a lot of shady deals,” I say to Stefano as the crowd slowly begins to thin out. Most of the people here are busy talking to each other, making new connections, building new alliances, and they couldn’t care less about the burned-up corpse tossed in a hole down there.

Good riddance. I couldn’t agree more.

“That’s how they all are.” Stefano’s voice is a low rumble. “Throw a rock and chances are pretty terrible that you’ll hit an honest man.”

“Throw a dozen and same thing.”

“Feels strange, doesn’t it?” He smirks at me, tugging me closer. “All this attention?”

“Bizarre, honestly.”

“They still think you’re the heir.”

I sigh and nod slightly. “We haven’t made it public yet.”

“Once they realize your father’s the one taking over, suddenly all those invites and cards won’t matter anymore.”

“What a shame. I was really looking forward to eating steak and drinking whiskey at noon on a Wednesday.”

“Well, darling, if that’s all it takes to make you happy—” Stefano stoops and kisses my cheek. “I’ll feed you liquor and meat whenever you like.”

“My hero.”

Dad comes ambling over through the crowd.

His eyes are red-rimmed like he’s been crying, but the second he sees me, his face breaks out into a huge grin.

The phony bastard’s so good at pretending like losing his dear old dad to such a horrific accident is really eating him up inside. While we both know he’s elated.

“Renovations on the mansion start next week,” Dad says, not bothering to ask me how I’m doing. He nods at Stefano but doesn’t offer a hand to shake. He knows better. “It’s incredible how quickly they wrapped up the investigation.”

“Knowing people helps,” Stefano says.

“And here’s to that.” Dad’s grin stretches. “Having fun rubbing elbows? Don’t get used to it.”

“We were just saying the same thing. Honestly, I can’t wait to be done with all this.”

“What’ll you do when it’s over?” Dad looks around, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out. “I can’t imagine living any other way.”

“That’s the problem.” I look at my father and try not to feel pity. It’s not like he deserves it. “I actually can.”

Stefano steers me away. We walk slowly back toward the cars. The crowd’s thinning out. All I want is my own bed and my own husband. But a person steps out from behind a van, a woman wearing all black. Young and pretty.

I flinch back as Emily comes up to me, smiling awkwardly.

“That’s close enough,” Stefano says, holding out a hand and stopping her.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I ask, wondering how a person can be so insane.

“I wanted to pay my respects.” She glances over my shoulder toward the few mourners left. “I worked for him, you know.”

“You hated him.”

“Sure, but everyone did. Even those crying bitches.” She makes a face. “Well, they loved his money.”

“Everyone did,” I murmur, clenching my jaw. “What do you want?”

“To apologize.” Emily clears her throat. “I know I screwed you over. I was spying for your dad, and that was messed up. But it wasn’t all fake, you know? I really did like spending time with you, for what that’s worth.”

“It’s worth less than shit.”

“Right.” She grimaces, looking at the ground.

“Look, I can beg if you want. I just need you to forgive me. The way I got tangled up in your family’s craziness, the stuff your dad was telling me, and now what he’s doing…

you know I can’t find work, right? I’m getting evicted next month for some made-up bullshit.

He’s destroying me, Charlie. I’m begging you, please, forgive me, let this all be over. I’ve been punished enough.”

I stare at her, and a part of me wants to be generous. She really didn’t mean all that much in the grand scheme.

But she was the one who told my father and grandfather everything they needed to know. I’m sure it was her fault that man was able to break into Stefano’s house. It was her fault the depot was raided over and over. She was used like everyone else, but she still did it.

“I’m not going to forgive you, Emily. If you’re smart, you’ll move away from here. Go live somewhere else. Find a new life.”

Her eyes widen. “Please, Charlie?—”

“Fuck off now.” I stare at her, hard as steel. “I’m done with you.”

Stefano steers me away. We leave her behind. She stands there watching us, and I glance back just one time to see tears rolling down her cheeks.

The messed-up part?

I don’t even know if they’re real or not.

“We should crush your enemies more often,” Stefano says casually. “It’s pretty fun.”

“Glad you enjoyed it.”

“I enjoyed you. Everything you are.” He pulls me against him once we reach the truck. His lips find mine, soft and probing. A nice promise for later in his kiss. “Is it tacky to make out at a funeral?”

“Probably. You tell me. What were the norms like in the fifties when you were my age?”

His eyes widen. “Are you making old jokes?”

“I’m feeling catty.”

“I like it.” Another kiss. “Keep them coming. I enjoy punishing you.”

“Come on.” I climb into the truck. “I’m ready for this to be over.”

“Couldn’t agree more with that one.”