Page 51 of Black Hearts
If we didn’t have other things to deal with, I wouldn’t hesitate to preoccupy every spare moment of my time with Juliet and her body, but regrettably that wasn’t the case. My father still had control of the estate, and from what it sounded like, he was driving the others nuts. It’d been a long time since he’d been in charge; everyone still there was used to me now, not him. He’d learn very soon that if they had to choose a Scott to follow, they would choose me.
Oh, yes. We were coming upon the home stretch. I didn’t know how things would turn out, but I knew one thing.
Regardless of what happened, Juliet would stay by my side.
Chapter Eight – Juliet
The others offered to come with Markus and me when we went to Oliver Fitzpatrick’s place, but Markus told them he didn’t want the circus following him around, so it was best if he and I went. I understood, and I’d miss them while we were gone. I’d gotten used to being with them all hours of the day and night. Even if we weren’t at the Scott house yet, it was good to get back into a routine with them. Hopefully we wouldn’t be gone too long.
I didn’t know what to expect, honestly. Markus had told me a little about Oliver. He had a… complicated past with the man. In addition to marrying one of the Scott women years ago, Oliver also had asked Markus for help on many different occasions.
Markus had kept tabs on Oliver’s sons, which were technically his nephews, I guess? They were off somewhere with Oliver’s stepdaughter. It was a long story, Markus had said, and when I’d asked him for more details, he’d harrumphed and gotten grumpy with me, so I’d let it go. Maybe he didn’t like talking about it.
Oliver lived in Midpark, the same city the Scott house was in, not too far from where we were staying. As Markus drove us through the streets, I watched the houses we passed. None were as impressive as the Scott estate, but they were mansions, definitely. You could tell just from a quick glance all these people had money.
It was hard for me to imagine the concept of it. Daddy—my father, I mean, had kept me so sheltered. I understood you needed money to survive, but this level of extravagance felt almost wasteful. Maybe I only thought that way because I’d been kept inside the same house pretty much my entire life, so my view on everything was skewed.
“Was Oliver at that party we went to?” I asked, breaking the silence of the ride.
“The one where you first met Zoey? No, he wasn’t there. He’s not… he avoids those types of gatherings, especially after everything that’s happened. If it weren’t for Kyra, I’m sure the man would be a recluse.” His dark eyes flicked toward me, and before I could ask for more details about this Kyra girl, he nodded. “We’re here.”
Markus pulled the car into a driveway, stopping near a guardhouse. He rolled his window down, talking to the guard stationed there. Whoever this Oliver was, he must have a lot of money to pay someone to stand watch outside his property at all hours of the day. If he sometimes was a lawyer for celebrities and other wealthy people, I guess the added security might be necessary.
Once the guard radioed someone else, he hit a button on his side and said, “You’re good to go.” The gate before our car rattled to life, opening for us. It was much like the gate that closed in the Scott property.
The house was even larger once we pulled up, and Markus parked the car before the stairs near the front door. As I got out, I had to crane my neck back to look up at the whole thing, pretty much the same thing I’d done when I’d first witnessed the impressive Scott estate for the first time. Such a big house.
Markus didn’t stop to ogle the mansion; he headed straight for the front door. His hand went to grab the knob, but right then, it opened, revealing a middle-aged man wearing a suit and holding a glass of some amber liquid. He was nowhere near as put-together as Markus, but he was just what I imagined a rich lawyer would look like. Clean-cut, though he wore no tie and his suit jacket was unbuttoned. Handsome for his age. His black hair had a streak of gray in the front, though it was combed back, and his eyes were a bright, vibrant blue that reminded me of my own.
“Markus,” he spoke. “I’d say it’s good to see you again, but we both know that would be a lie.” He sounded like he hated Markus, but he stepped aside and let us in all the same. Once we were ushered in, he shut the door and took a sip from his glass.
“Oliver,” Markus spoke, glancing at me. “This is Juliet.”
“Ah, yes. The one who’s responsible for the fracturing of your family.” Oliver’s azure stare turned to me, and for the quickest of seconds, I detected a hint of sadness in his that stare. He quietly added, “She reminds me a little of Celeste.”
I inched closer to Markus, unsure if that was a good thing or not. Markus himself harrumphed, frowning at the man. “She’s nothing like Celeste. Now, can we take this upstairs? I’d like to look it over.”
“Sure, sure.” To me, Oliver said, “Feel free to look around. Take anything you like from the kitchen. Kyra should be around here somewhere—it’s about the time of day when she does her yoga out in the back, if you want to join her.” With that invitation given, he turned and started to walk away from me, I guess to lead Markus through the house to where they could do business.
Markus threw me one look, and I knew what that firm expression meant: be good. No running off. Don’t get into trouble.
He knew I wouldn’t run from him at this point, and what trouble could I really get into here? Come on. Give me some credit. Plus, most of the trouble I’d gotten into had been due to the others dragging me into it. I was good. Mostly.
After Markus walked away from me, I stood there in the front vestibule for a moment, marveling at how this never would’ve happened in the beginning. Taking me out of the house, letting me have free rein of a place that was entirely new to me—it meant he trusted me. He trusted me—and he trusted Oliver and this Kyra girl, whoever she was.
Oliver had mentioned she was probably out in the back doing yoga, so I decided to make my way there. Or try to. The house didn’t have a straight shot to the back. I had to go down two separate halls before I came upon a set of wide French doors that let out into the backyard, where a giant stone patio sat.
I stopped when I reached the doors, peering through the glass. It was just as Oliver had said; Kyra was out there, standing atop a blue mat, her legs bent and her arms parallel to the ground, doing some sort of pose. Her back was to me, so she wouldn’t see me until I walked out. All I could see was her hair—she had fun-colored hair too, kind of like Zoey, although hers had a bunch of different colors.
Did Oliver tell her I was coming with Markus? Was this weird? I hesitated, not pushing out right away. I still wasn’t used to meeting new people. Maybe I should just go sit down somewhere in the house and wait for Markus to be done with Oliver.
But it might take a little while. What if there was something Markus wanted Oliver to change in the contract? Hmm.
I heaved a breath, bracing myself. I opened the door, stepping outside, and the moment I did, Kyra’s peaceful pose ended, and she whirled around, a hand over her heart, like I’d startled her. “I told you not to—” She stopped when she saw it was me. “Oh. You’re not Ollie. Who… who are you?”
Ah, so Oliver didn’t tell her. Awkward.
I shut the door behind me. “Uh, I’m Juliet. I came here with Markus.”
