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Tourists streamed around us, muttering their annoyances in various languages, but I could practically hear the gears cranking behind those dark eyes.
Then slowly, so slowly it dawned like the sun over the horizon, a smile blossomed across his mouth.
“Sloane Kensington, I like the way you think.”
CHAPTER17
Xavier
My father’s funeral came and went in a blur of solemn faces and whispered condolences. I gave a brief eulogy at Sloane and Eduardo’s insistence and spent the rest of the memorial floating between numbness and hyperactivity.
My brain hadn’t stopped churning since Sloane and I returned from La Candelaria. We made it back to the house without being ambushed by reporters and confirmed with Santos about the will’s wording.
She was right. My father hadn’t specifiedwhatI should be the CEO of, which was a glaring omission for a man with a famed sharklike business sense, but that was a question for another day. After Santos’s confirmation, things moved quickly. We gathered the rest of the inheritance committee, as I called them, and explained the situation.
Dante was the only missing member since he couldn’t make it to Colombia for my father’s funeral, but Eduardo looped him in via email.
It boiled down to this: My first CEO evaluation was in six months, which coincided with my thirtieth birthday. That meant I had half a year to figure out how to fulfill the will’s terms. Meanwhile, Eduardo would remain interim CEO of the Castillo Group while the company searched for a permanent leader.
Six months to become CEO of a company that didn’t exist and that had to pass muster with the committee at the first evaluation. Easier said than done.
The greatest gift we have is time.
My mother’s pocket watch weighed heavy in my pocket as I entered the Valhalla Club’s bar.
It was a week after my father’s funeral and my return to New York. I’d spent the past six days brooding over my situation, but it was time to get off my ass and do something.
I ordered the club’s signature drink and glanced around the dark-paneled room. Valhalla was an ultraexclusive club for the world’s wealthiest and most powerful. It had chapters all over the globe, and I was a member thanks to my mother, a descendant of one of the founding families. My father had made his fortune, but my mother had been born into money.
Despite my coveted membership, I rarely hung out at Valhalla. It was too stuffy for me, but it was the only place I could think of where I wouldn’t run into my New York circle of friends. They were fine for a good time, but they weren’t who I wanted to see in my current state of mind.
The bar was quiet this early in the afternoon. I was one of two people sitting at the counter; several stools down, a perfectly put-together Asian man with glasses and a bespoke Delamonte suit observed me with polite curiosity.
“No comment,” I said before he opened his mouth.
I slid the bartender a fifty-dollar tip when he brought my drink and drained half the glass in one swallow.
Kai Young lifted an amused brow. The CEO of the world’s most powerful media conglomerate wasn’t the type to ambush someone with questions about a family member’s death, but you couldn’t be too careful.
“I heard you were back in New York,” he said, tactfully ignoring my rudeness. His polished British accent fit seamlessly into our elegant surroundings, whereas I felt as out of place as a penguin in the Sahara. “How are you doing?”
“I’m drinking at one in the afternoon,” I said. “I’ve been better.”
If Sloane were here, she’d say my day drinking was par for the course. Luckily, she was too busy catching up on work to be on my ass about the CEO thing, though I wished she were here anyway.
After having her around twenty-four-seven for over a week, I missed her.
“If it makes you feel better, you’re not the only one.” Kai tipped his head toward his glass. “I had a meeting earlier with a techpreneur who’s convinced he’s the next Steve Jobs, hence the scotch. I have to drown out an hour’s worth of misguided god complex.”
I snorted out a laugh. “Sounds like Silicon Valley.” Misguided god complex. If only I had one. It would make things easier.
I had a degree in business, which was a precondition for accessing my trust fund when I graduated, but I’d neverstarteda business. I didn’t have the luxury of flying under the radar. If I failed, I failed in front of the entire world.
If Ididn’ttry, I would lose my inheritance. And yes, I recognized the irony of trying to grasp something I resented—aka my father’s money—but when I looked past my knee-jerk reaction, I recognized the truth in Sloane’s words. I had no idea what it was like to live without that financial cushion, and to be honest, the thought terrified me.
The only thing that made me feel less like a hypocrite was the fact I wouldn’t keep all the money, but that was a secret I kept to myself for now.
I glanced at Kai. Our social circles overlapped in the way most of Manhattan society’s did, but I didn’t know him well. He had a dry sense of humor I appreciated the hell out of though, and more importantly, he was best friends with Dante Russo, who’d somehow landed on my inheritance committee.
