Page 22 of Birthright


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I shake my head to clear my thoughts. The drive has helped, but I can’t hide in the car forever. I pull up to the front of the Orso estate, throw the car into park, and then head straight to the shower. Once I’ve cleaned all the blood off of me, I return to my office. I close the door behind me and breathe deeply for a few moments.

I glance at the clock. If I’m going to get to the club at a decent time, I need to start getting ready. I’m not feeling it, but I’m expected to be there, so I’ll go. It’s not like I’m going to go to sleep early or anything—I’ve barely slept at all for the past month. Maybe I’ll just be fashionably late to the club. That’s acceptable.

I need to relax for a few more minutes first, and I look at the large, comfortable desk chair—my chair—though I’m not sure it will ever feel right.

Before I manage to sit down, the door to my office bursts open.

Ah, shit.

“You really did it, didn’t you?”

I take an involuntary step backward as my sister approaches, eyes blazing. She marches straight up to me and slaps me across the face.

“He was my fucking husband!” she screams.

“He was a fucking traitor,” I reply calmly.

“You had no right!”

I tense. The last thing I want or need is for someone in the family questioning my judgment, even Nora.

“I had every right!” I yell back. “I am the head of this family, and that means I get to make the decisions. We welcomed him into our family and our business, and he returned the favor by working with the Ramsays. If you think there was some other logical response, that’s just one more thing you didn’t have in common with him!”

She blinks a few times as she works out my convoluted sentence.

“You should have talked to me first! I haven’t even unpacked from the fucking honeymoon!”

“Would unpacking have made a difference?” I ask. “It’s easier for you this way. I saved you the trauma of waiting for it to happen. You’re welcome.”

“Fuck you.”

“That would be incest.”

“I hate you!”

“Nothing new there either.”

She picks up an ashtray from the table and flings it at me. I barely duck in time, and it smashes into the mirror behind me. The sound of glass shattering rings in my ears.

“Feel better now?” I ask.

“It didn’t hit you, so no.”

“Charming as ever, Nora.”

“You know the Maple Syrup Festival Ball is only a couple of months away. How the hell will I find a date for it after you killed the last one?”

Ah, yes! There’s my sister.

“Do you want me to find you a new husband?” I ask. “Someone more suitable? I know Pops has some records around here somewhere…”

“What century do you think we live in?” She wipes tears from her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Just trying to help.”

“Who the hell would even consider joining this family now, huh?”

“Someone who understands what it means to be loyal.”

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