Page 69 of Black Hearts
“Be gentle,” I called out. “She was stabbed.”
“Oh!” Tori pulled herself off Juliet. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t think—who stabbed you?” She turned a deadly sort of serious. “Tell me who, and I’ll—”
Will said, “We got someone on the case already, Tori.”
Tori frowned at him, and then she tossed a glance over her shoulder at my father. “We can still kill him, right?”
“Not today, I’m afraid,” my father spoke, smirking, as if he found the girl amusing. To me, he whispered, “A spirited girl. Odd, considering who her mother is. Regardless, shall you and I go inside to discuss the details, then?”
I gave him a nod. He was the first to go back inside, and I started to follow him. With one foot inside and the other out, I paused to throw a glance back at the small crowd that had gathered in front of the house. Though it was impressive, my eyes zeroed in on Juliet and the smile she wore. Tori still clung to her side, more lightly now that she knew she’d been stabbed, but Juliet only had eyes for me.
And that filled me with a certain sense of peace nothing else in this world could.
I ventured into the house and caught up to my father. We returned to my office, and he was seconds from sitting in my high-backed leather chair when I coughed and glared. He caught himself, scowled, and slowly moved to sit in one of the other chairs instead.
Good. Had he sat on my chair again, I might’ve strangled him.
He pulled the folder toward him, muttering, “Perhaps we should bring Oliver in here, in case we need corrections or additions to what you’ve prepared. I will say that I will not agree to anything unless I’m satisfied.”
I wanted to snap at him, tell him that he would get nothing else out of me or this estate, nothing more than what was already in the contract, but perhaps it was a good idea to bring Oliver in here, just in case we needed him. Plus, it might be good to have someone involved who was skilled at client mediation.
I pulled out my phone and dialed Oliver. He picked up on the second ring. “Come to my office. Your skills are required once again.” I didn’t wait to hear his response; I hung up the phone, never once breaking eye contact with my father.
My father was busy reading the first page of the contract, so I quickly typed out a message to Ed. I was not one to allow parties thrown at the estate, but if the others wanted to stay for a while and have dinner here, I would let them. He might have to go to the store to get enough food to feed everyone, but that was a small sacrifice I was certain he would make.
Shortly after that, Oliver strolled into my office. His black hair held a few more strands of gray than it had years ago, but he looked good for his age. An office job tended to do that to you, kept you looking young. And the money. It meant you had enough wealth for a personal trainer, should you require it, along with healthy food most Americans wouldn’t dream of having each meal.
And plastic surgery, although I did not know whether Oliver had partaken in that.
“Oliver,” I spoke once I spotted him. “I didn’t know you would be showing up today. What a surprise.”
“Yes,” my father remarked dryly. “What a surprise, given the fact that I was the one who introduced you to Lorelei in the first place.”
Oliver had had about twenty years to get over the loss of Lorelei, so my father’s remark didn’t make him flinch. He took up the other chair beside my father, and without hesitation, he reached for the glass of liquor my father had poured for me earlier. He downed the contents in one rather large sip and then mumbled, “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”
I fully agreed on that. The sooner my father agreed to leave, the better. My patience with this whole thing wore thin. I was ready to drag his ass into the basement, much as I’d done to Will, lock him up, and make him see the error of his ways. And if, say, he didn’t ever see it, then he would simply remain down there for all eternity, until his skin sunk into his bones and his eyes drooped.
We went over the contract page by page. Most of it was quickly approved of. My father liked the fact that I included any future children from him; he could still send them to me, but once he did, they would become my problem and not his. I would be their legal guardian. Pretty much exactly what had gone on before, only it was now ink on paper. He was old, yes, but it was quite obvious his sperm still packed a punch, and money could buy any woman of any age.
My father did have Oliver add a clause about his siblings’ offspring. He wanted me to meet with them, see if I could bring them in, induct them into the family business. I found the notion utterly insane, but the clause didn’t specify that I had to bring them in. Only speak with them, see if they could be useful. There was no point in bringing someone in if they could not do what we would expect of them.
Still. I was not looking forward to meeting my cousins for the first time, nor my uncles or aunts.
I couldn’t say how much time passed before we had the whole thing ironed out and my father signed it. Oliver oversaw the entire thing, our witness. I was the last to sign it, and I told my father I’d mail him a copy. The original would stay right here with me, in our files.
I dismissed Oliver, and he left the office. I moved my stare to my father, watching him run a finger along his jaw. The signed contract sat on my desk between us, a legally binding promise a man like him would never go against. Obviously, we went against many laws in this country, killing, kidnapping, and torturing the big ones, but there was a limit. A businessman like my father knew the importance of a contractual agreement.
A minute of silence passed, and my father whispered, “I’m impressed, Markus. Given your outburst over the girl, I assumed you’d lost control completely. I was waiting for you to make your return and try to get rid of me in the way our family is so good at.”
“The thought did cross my mind,” I admitted. I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t, and there was no point in lying to him now.
He let out a short chuckle. “That is what separates us from men like Fred Osborne. We might have the urge, the need to kill. We might take pleasure in inflicting worlds of pain on others, whether they are helpless or not, but when it comes down to it, we can hold back. We can choose not to accept jobs if they don’t suit our skills. We can keep the urges locked away inside until the most opportune moment. We decide when to let our instincts take over. Men like Fred let it rule their lives.”
My father stared squarely at me, continuing, “You are my son, the closest thing I have to an official heir. You and I might not agree on everything, but most of what I taught you is still in there, otherwise this whole day would’ve turned out very different. Perhaps the girl didn’t affect you like I thought she did.”
I narrowed my stare at him. He best choose his words carefully, especially when speaking of Juliet. If there was one person he did not have the right to talk about, it was her.
“Don’t get me wrong, it was still stupid to let Fred go on for so long, but I’ve thought about it a lot while you were gone, and I’ve come to see that you are your own person. You are not me. You have set in place more limits than I ever did.”
