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I had the Bolognese pappardelle, and he had a salad—as always. Didn’t even use dressing, just a squeeze of lemon. He was considering taking a trip somewhere tropical just to get away from the winter.
I hated winter, but I didn’t hate this winter as much as I’d thought I would.
“How are things with Axel?” My father’s eyes were down when he asked the question, as if he only asked because he felt obligated.
I knew my father didn’t want the details of our marriage, how we’d just slept in the same bed for the first time last night. We’d shared our first kiss too, pressed up against the door, Axel’s big hands all over me. “Good.”
“He’s treating you well?”
“He’s always been good to me.” He’d betrayed me, but everything before and after had been pleasant. The wedding ring he gave me was on my left hand, an enormous rock that I still hadn’t gotten used to.
“Good.” My father took a bite then lifted his gaze. “I have a couple ideas to get out of this mess.”
“What mess?” I asked as I took a sip of wine.
He stopped everything he was doing to stare at me. “This arrangement with Theo and Axel.”
Life had gone on since the business changed hands, and it didn’t feel that much different than it did before. With the increased revenue, my father made the same as he did when he ran the company alone, so not much had changed. “Yes, of course.”
“Theo mentioned possible distribution to France. My contacts tell me the kingpin who’s taken over for Bartholomew is not someone to be trifled with. If I pressure Theo to take the French distribution, perhaps he’ll be eliminated by this new foe. Axel, too.”
“What’s his name?”
“Beau.”
“What do you know about him?”
“Not much,” he said. “But perhaps we can come to an arrangement. I could offer him a portion of the business if he eliminates Theo and Axel. Wouldn’t have to get my hands dirty at all. They wouldn’t know what hit them.”
“What do you mean, eliminate Theo and Axel?” I held my fork in my hand and ignored the hot pasta sitting in front of me. It’d been delicious a moment ago, but now my appetite had disappeared.
My father looked down at his salad and stabbed the bed of lettuce with his fork. “Remove them from the business the way they removed me. Pull the rug out from underneath them. Make them fall on their asses.” He took a bite and chewed as he stared at me, his gaze hard with anger.
Relief swept through me, because for just a moment, I’d feared my father had suggested something far more sinister. “I do the books every day, and with the increased revenue, we’re making the same that we were making before. The only thing that’s really changed is it’s far less work than it used to be?—”
“It’s my business,” he snapped. “I don’t care if it’s doing better now than it was before. That’s beside the point, and of all people, I’d expect you to understand that. It’s our legacy, Scarlett.”
My father never snapped at me, but lately, he’d been doing it all the time. “A legacy can be more than just money. It can be family. It can be donations. It can be other things. It doesn’t have to be an illegal business?—”
“I expected more from you.” He set his fork aside, clearly done with his half-eaten meal.
I felt like I’d been slapped.
“We agreed we would take this back together.”
“Dad, you have an equal third of the business. You haven’t taken a pay cut. Why don’t we just…let this go? Live in peace. Remember that Axel only took the business because you cut him out?—”
“You’ve been married to him for a couple weeks, and he’s already turned you against me?”
I felt like I’d been slapped again. “We don’t talk about you, Dad. And he could never turn me against you.” Axel had already whispered rumors into my ear, and I’d ignored them all. “I know where my loyalty lies.”
“It doesn’t seem like it.” He pulled the linen off his lap and set it on the table, telling the waiter he was finished.
“The business is still in our family. That’s what you wanted—and we have it.”
“You think I would have let you marry him if you were going to turn like this?”
“I’m just being logical.”
He didn’t raise his voice, but he deepened his tone into a threat. “No one fucks me over and gets away with it. Are you with me or not?”
“Dad, that’s ridiculous?—”
“Are you or are you not?” he demanded.
“Of course?—”
“Then we’ll get back what’s rightfully ours, and they can eat shit.”
The place was so much bigger than my old apartment. Every time I stepped off the elevator and moved into the entryway, surrounded by walls covered in dark wallpaper, mirrors on the walls, a chandelier that hung low, and the vase of lilies in the center of the table, I felt like I was in a museum rather than my home.
