Page 8 of Ruthless Lord

Grandfather’s apartment in the mansion is sparse and simple.

Where Dad’s rooms are grand and lavishly decorated, Grandfather has always preferred to keep things as spartan as possible.

He likes little memorabilia from his childhood, which is why there are a few model trains decorating the basic furniture, but otherwise there’s not much else around.

He’s sitting at his table. A small black-and-white television is playing a Western.

It’s the same table he ate at as a child, back before his father made the family’s fortune by inventing new forms of plastic.

He grew the Westbrook Chemical Corporation into the behemoth it is today, and he’s the one who expanded family interests into illicit fighting and gambling as a way to diversify our income portfolio.

Grandfather stares at me. He’s frowning slightly as Emily comes at my back, begging his pardon at my interruption, all but prostrating herself at his feet.

“It’s alright, it’s okay.” He dismisses the staff girl with a wave of his hand. “I’ll speak with my granddaughter just this once.”

“Of course, Mr. Westbrook, again, I am so, so sorry—” Emily shuffles backward before scurrying away and closing the door behind her.

I stare at the table. Grandfather’s got his usual breakfast. A scrambled egg. Two pieces of buttered toast. Black coffee. Orange juice.

And at his elbow is a simple manila folder like the one my father gave me downstairs.

“You saw them,” I say, meeting my grandfather’s gaze. Despite being eighty, he’s sharper than ever, with piercing gray eyes and a severe face.

“I saw them,” he confirms, wrinkling his nose. “Or at least as much as I could stomach.”

Sorrow crushes me. Everything I’ve worked for is ending right here. There’s no way in hell Grandfather is going to forgive me for this. He raised me to believe in old-fashioned family values, which definitely means I shouldn’t be out having raunchy sex with mafia criminals.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, feeling hollow.

Grandfather lets out a soft snort. “You know what disappoints me the most? It isn’t that you stooped so low as to sleep with a man like Stefano Bianchi, although that is bad enough.

I’m not a fool though, Charlie. I’m aware people have physical needs.

No, it’s not that you had sex with the man. It’s that you got caught.”

I stare at him, mouth hanging open. “It was my own father who took those pictures.”

“Yes, well, your father is a ruthless prick with the morals of a meth-addicted turtle. You, however, should know better. Really, Charlie, you went to his house? You slept with him in his bedroom in front of blinds? I taught you to be more careful!”

I hang my head and wring my hands together. I’m trying not to cry again. Grandfather would only get angry at my weakness if I do.

But he’s not chewing me out. He hasn’t thrown me from the family like I expected.

A glimmer of hope fills my chest.

“You’re right. I made a mistake.”

“A massive mistake, Charlie. A world-ending mistake. But have no fear, granddaughter. I know how to fix this.”

I look up in surprise. He’s staring at me, expression hard. There’s no kindness in those eyes. No forgiveness either.

He’s scheming. That’s what my grandfather does. He taught me early on to always turn every situation into an advantage, no matter how difficult. There’s always an angle if you’re clever and careful.

Now I can see his wheels turning, and I know I won’t like where they end up.

“What are you going to do?” I ask, afraid of the answer.

“Your father is going to release those photos whether I kick you out of the family for this or not. When he does, I’ll have no choice but to cast you aside.

Imagine what society would say if I didn’t?

” He taps his fork against the table, head cocked to the side.

“Unless the mistake weren’t as bad as it appears. ”

My stomach twists in knots. I don’t know what he’s saying, but I’m absolutely sure I’m not going to like it.

This is my life. This is the hell I was born into. There’s always a game, and a game within a game, and more plans than a general’s war room. I used to think I could keep it all straight and come out on top, but now I’m thinking I’ve always been a naive moron.

“How are you going to do that?”

“Nobody would blame you for wanting to sample the goods, so to speak.” When I don’t react, he leans forward. “Nobody would be upset with you for sleeping with your fiancé.”

I flinch back from that word. It takes a few seconds to penetrate my skull. Fiancé? What’s he talking about?

I’m not engaged to Stefano?—

But no. God, no. Grandfather’s staring at me with cold, dead eyes. And I’m suddenly reminded that he’s been fascinated with the Marino Famiglia for a while now, and suddenly this opportunity to get closer to them just presented itself. A golden chance to force his way into their orbit.

“You can’t,” I say, taking a step backward.

“It’s the only way you salvage this. I have to approach Don Marino first, of course, and get his approval, but I suspect that won’t be difficult.

You will marry Stefano Bianchi. You will become his wife.

Then your father won’t be able to use your indiscretion against you.

What is now an unseemly and unspeakable violation of our world’s norms will be transformed into the simple and natural actions of a young bride-to-be. ”

I stumble over my own feet as I shake my head and walk backward. “No, no, I can’t do that, there’s no way he’d do it either, we can’t?—”

“You will,” Grandfather says as I turn and flee his apartment. I grab the door and yank it open. “Take a few days to get used to the idea. I can stall your father that long. But it’s happening, Charlie! You will do as I say!”

I slam the door behind me and run out of there.