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“Welcome home, sir,” Diane says as she steps forward, speaking for everyone.
“Thank you,” I say as I head straight to the study, knowing Harrison is waiting for me there as usual when business needs to be discussed.
The hollow sound of the click of my cane on marble flooring announces my presence before I even need to say a word. Harrison is sitting in a high-back chair with a glass of scotch in his hand. After our conversation, I’m sure the man needed a stiff drink. Sitting across from him with a martini glass in hand is Cora, who I hadn’t expected to be here, but still happy to see.
“Cora, what a delight,” I say as I make my way over to the wet bar. Harrison has the right idea.
Martha enters the room with a notepad and pen in hand. She’s clearly ready to get back to work as well. Usually we all chat for a bit before getting to work, but I’m not in the mood. And I get the feeling that everyone in the room is ready to distract me with the only thing that can.
Wonderland.
“What’s the theme for Wonderland?” Harrison asks. “Or do we just want to keep it general?”
“A birthday party,” I say, staring ahead at nothing as the images start to form in my head.
“Whose birthday?” Martha asks. “Or just the look of a birthday party?”
“An unbirthday party,” I begin to explain, still not looking at anyone as all the colors form in my mind. “A party for all the people who never got to have a birthday party. For all the forgotten birthdays. For all the people who had wished for a special event just for them and never got one. For all the people who hate birthdays because they’ve never been taught how to like one.” I nod, smile widely at everyone and slap my hand on the wet bar. “Yes, an unbirthday party. That’s the theme.”
“Sounds like a downer in nature,” Cora says. “Who wants to remember all the bad memories? Next, you’re going to say there’s going to be clowns and pony rides.”
“This party will drown them all away. A happy birthday to all. And I’m not opposed to a few clowns.” I stand up and lean on my cane as I stare off into nothing again. “Bright colors, streamers, balloons. But over the top. I want the balloons bigger than imaginable. Massive. I want the streamers made out of gold and silver. I want glitter raining from the ceiling, never pausing until every partygoer is ankle deep in it.” I close my eyes so I can see the picture in my head. “And cake. We must have cake passed around in bite-sized pieces with pink champagne.”
I open my eyes and see that Martha is taking notes, and Harrison is nodding as he clearly likes the idea.
“But I also want there to be side rooms. Private birthday parties. Rooms where the most decadent and depraved can celebrate together. Nothing like a good birthday orgy. I want voyeurism, dominance and submission. I want the kinky to beable to play at this party. Happy, happy birthday to all.” I give a toothy grin, loving the idea of a true sex party. “We behaved in Italy since we were beneath the Vatican. We haven’t let the dirty out to play in a while. It’s time we do.”
“I’ve heard some rumors that there will be people asking for a Tea Party,” Cora adds.
“No Tea Party,” I snap, not meaning to sound as harsh as I do. “This is an unbirthday party. No Tea Party. No business. No negativity. The night is going to be about pleasure. Fucking. Primal. Animalistic lust. We are going to celebrate our bodies and our desires. No fucking business allowed.”
“I don’t need to tell you that we need to reestablish your position in our society. There’s no secret that there have been issues between you and the Morellis. And by now, everyone knows the Morellis came out the victor. So you can tell us you are licking your wounds, but no way in hell can that be the appearance beyond these walls,” Cora lectures.
I respectfully nod because I do value what the woman says. She raised me during my darkest times and taught me how to become the phoenix rising from the ashes. And who better to teach how to become a ruthless, cold-hearted mastermind than the ice queen herself. The only thing that has ever softened her heart is me. For me, Cora Pillar lowered the drawbridge to her fortress and schooled me on how to become a king.
“If you want this birthday theme, fine,” she says, sipping from her martini glass. “But make your intentions very clear by your actions. You are moving on from anything to do with the Morellis and that girl. That girl is nothing but a distant memory in the past. A passing fancy. A fun little game you played. Show that she, and this entire situation has never been anything but a wicked way to get your dick slicked.”
“Cora…” I swallow back the warning in my voice. I don’t like a single word she’s saying, but I’m trying to keep my high esteemfor this woman in the forefront of my mind rather than my annoyance.
“It’s true,” she adds, not backing down. “You fucked up with that girl. What’s her name? Lilly rope? Lee ropey? Fucking ridiculous.” She flicks her long, manicured fingers in the air. “She made things messy. She madeyoumessy. A goddamn disaster.” Her eyes narrow in on me. “You may not like to hear this, but she lowered you down to average. She made you mediocre. She weakened you and made you the fool in Italy. You lost an auction that was beneath you. You shouldn’t have even been part of the negotiations because you don’t get in the mud with pigs. But not only did you dive into the pen, you came out covered in shit.”
My teeth clench and I struggle to not make a remark that I’ll regret once my rage settles. When Cora lectures, she truly gives it. She doesn’t hold back and never has. She says it like it is and doesn’t care how sharp her words are or how deep they cut.
“What about the guest list?” Martha cuts in, clearly reading the room and sensing that she needs to change the direction.
“The usual,” I answer, taking a deep breath to soothe my nerves. “And don’t leave the Morellis off it. I want an open invite to every single one of them.”
“You think that’s a good idea?” Harrison asks.
“I’d be surprised if any of them have the balls to enter my domain.”
Cora nods with a devilish smile. “Smart. Very smart. It’s a manipulation that gives you the upper hand. You’re right in believing that none of them will come. Not this close to Italy. But it’s a way of taunting them and”—she takes another sip of her martini with her smile growing—“and I fucking love it.”
My reasoning for inviting all Morellis wasn’t to please Cora, wasn’t to taunt the Morellis, but because I want to show Bryant that I’m not going to cower in the shadows. Yes, Cora is rightthat he came out the victor and the taste of losing is sour with an edge of rancid disgust. But the biggest reason of all, and a reason I’m surprised that Cora or Harrison aren’t calling me out on, is that maybe Lyriope will attend. It’s a long shot, but maybe…
I turn my attention to Martha. “I want them to have to work for it, to find the location. An epic scavenger hunt.”
“Cookies? With the directions?” she asks.
