AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Victor Noble cuts an imposing figure in a custom tailored three-piece Tom Ford suit. Sandy hair sits perfectly coiffed on his head, threaded through with silvery grays. Don’t be fooled, that look is crafted with strategic hair dye and implants, just like everything else about his image.
“No, I know, Decker. Yeah.” Dad slips a hand in his pocket and tips his head to the side in consideration. “It has to go hard enough to break the market, or we won’t come out on top of it all. Big moves only. Just make sure your contractor guys source the supplies from who your cousin tells you to and make sure it goes through Albert’s pier.”
One foot in front of the other, I coast along the wall in the hallway to retrieve my coat, not stepping into the open floor plan of the all-white lounge. If I’m quick, I can slip out before Dad notices. Preferably before I overhear anymore about what Mr. Decker and his lackeys are up to.
Noble Enterprise Inc. deals in luxury hotels, high end condos, private islands…and a little corporate property sales on the side to shell companies with mob ties to keep things flush.
They scratched my great-grandfather’s back once, to get the business started. If the family does a favor for you, be prepared to owe them for life. You’re as good as welcomed to sit at their dinner table as long as you remain loyal and useful.
The mob doesn’t have to operate in the shadows when they hold the leashes of billionaire businessmen who grew their companies with strategies like investment fraud, embezzlement, and inflating the market. Real noble of him, isn’t it?
That’s how my father’s empire works. As his only daughter, his sweet princess, it’s an empire he intends for me to inherit. Except I’m not sweet. And if I have any say, I’ll have nothing to do with the “family business”.
If everything goes according to my plans, I’ll be long gone from Dad and Charity’s—fourth wife, only three years older than me and the youngest model he’s installed into our life yet—radar, far out of reach.
“Princess,” Dad calls.
Close, but no cigar Anniebear. I bite the inside of my cheek and shove Dad’s long-forgotten nickname for me aside. Puppet smile back in place? Okay, good.
“Morning, Daddy,” I simper as I spin to face him, pretending I didn’t see him there.
He tucks his phone away and holds his hands out wide. I dutifully pad over to give him a kiss on both cheeks. It’s an old ritual, but if he catches me before I leave, it’s the one thing he still keeps up with. I close my eyes and breathe in his cologne. I used to find so comforting, but the overpowering scent turns bitter inside my nostrils and I force back a gag. I used to think this little ritual of ours meant he still loved me no matter what.
I was wrong. The only baby my father has ever loved is his business.
How could a man truly love a daughter he plans to auction off as a footnote to a business deal? Yeah, got me there.
I’m treated more like an asset than a person by the agreement my father has with his despicable business associates, the lot of them as heartless as he is.
“Off to your studies, princess?”
Dad strokes a big hand over my hair like I’m still four and tugging at his pant leg in his corporate office. I ignore the patronizing hint beneath his words.
I nod. “And then I have lunch plans with a friend before my afternoon class. Will you be here for dinner?”
“No, sweetie.” Dad shrugs apologetically, but I know he doesn’t mean it. Still, I go through these exhausting motions with him. “I have a late meeting with Albert Mastriano to go over some important business.”
Albert Mastriano. The current head of the Mastriano family, the one holding Dad’s long leash.
“Ah.”
I’m heartbroken, really. Boo hoo. I hide a smirk by tucking a strand of hair behind my ear that was already in place.
“There was something I wanted to talk to you about.” I bite the edge of my lip. “It’s the gala coming up.”
“Can’t you go to Charity with your girly things, pumpkin? I have business to worry about.” Dad squeezes my shoulders. “I’ve been hoping you might use this opportunity to get to know her better before your big day. I’d love to see my girls bonding.”
My gaze hardens as I bat his attempt at being a comforting father aside. “Dad. Come on, she’s twenty-two.”
He shrugs. Of course he doesn’t get what my problem with that would be. He’s the one that always marries women way younger than Mom. The latest trophy wife is close enough to my age to be my sister.
Charity’s an issue for another time, though. I draw in a breath like I’m going into battle to refocus myself.
“Anyway, that’s not what I mean.” One more breath for luck. I steel myself and square off in front of my dad. His little hints about carrying myself for success come in handy when we go toe-to-toe. “I don’t think I can make it to the gala. I’m planning to take a philosophy class over winter break, and with the condensed syllabus on such a tough course, I’ll need every free minute.”
“Free minute?” Dad’s jaw works and clenches.
Then my father grabs my shoulders, his fingers dig in hard. I try to keep myself from reacting, but I can’t help the way my eyes widen slightly. He smiles, but there’s no warmth or fatherly love in it.
