Page 61 of How to Break My Heart
“Well, I’m the one having to speak to the media about this damn lawsuit. Who else is going to defendyouractions and maintain the integrity ofyourcompany? As for Roland, you think he’s going to allow Myles to sell you all this land after newspapers are calling you greedy? It’s important to the Whitney family to keep things close, and yet here you are trying to buy this land to sell it off to wealthy people willing to pay stupid money just to have a town that is exclusive to billionaires. Since you’re very out of touch with what is actually going on, you needmeto bring you back to reality.”
Across from me, my father juts his chin with a stiff smile. “Everyone is replaceable.”
Fury twists inside of me. “Are you giving me an ultimatum?”
“I’m demanding you pay attention to my instructions, Aston,” he answers in an arctic tone. “Once your sister is married, the land will be ours. If anyone can convince Myles and Madelina to sell, it will be you.”
“What makes you think it will be that easy? I just told you, Roland made it clear everything would be passed on to his son and kept in the family.”
My father’s dismissive glance grates on my last nerve. “And his son is marrying my daughter. You think it’s a coincidence they are getting married?”
I take a step back, fixating on his blank stare. “What did you do?”
He leans back comfortably in his leather chair. “Son, you still have much to learn about the game.”
“It’s not a game when Madelina is involved,” I bellow, clenching my hands into fists. “What did you do?”
He continues to observe me with an arrogant smirk. “Roland invited us to join them at their ranch this weekend. I expect you to be there.”
And with his phone in hand, he dials a number and requests I leave the room.
I storm out, fuming at the thought of him involving Madelina in his fucked-up game. As I walk past the dining room, I enter without thinking and grab the bottle of whiskey. This time, I don’t pour a glass, I simply bring the bottle to my lips to down the hard liquor. An unflattering rumble escapes me as my mother watches on.
“Aston…” she calls softly.
“Don’t start, Mother. I’m leaving.”
With the bottle in my hand, I rush out the door only to hear footsteps follow me to the car.Fuck, why won’t everyone leave me alone?!
“You’re not driving,” Everleigh calls out behind me.
I bow my head, refusing to answer. My hands grip the glass bottle like my entire life depends on it. “I need to get out of here,” I hiss.
She snatches the keys from my hand, much to my annoyance. “Fine, I’ll take you wherever you need to go.”
My gaze flickers to hers. “You’re not driving my car. Nobody drives my car.”
“Then I guess you won’t be going anywhere.”
I lower my chin to my chest, letting out a huff. Everleigh moves to the driver’s side while I climb into the passenger seat. God, everything about this feels wrong. It’s almost like I have no power, sitting here like a fucking moron unable to drive my own car.
The loss of control prompts me to take another swig of the bottle as Everleigh attempts to insert the keys into the ignition but sees no ignition.
“Um…”
“Foot on the brake, stick out of gear, press this button.” I exhale, then turn to her and question, “Do you know how to drive a stick?”
“Yes,” she declares, rolling her eyes. “Can you trust me, please?”
“Fine.”
The engine starts with a loud roar, a sound that always manages to calm me.
Everleigh does, in fact, know how to drive a stick.
And as the dark road greets us, I sink into my seat and continue to drink straight out of the bottle.
“What happened back there?” she asks, breaking the welcome silence.
