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“I don’t either,” I say quietly, almost whispering.
I feel completely powerless. I went to school for business and marketing, but I didn’t go to work at Rowe Oil, the oil and gas company that made my family absurdly wealthy for generations. We’re an old Texan oil family, oil barons with the black stuff flowing in our veins, but Daddy said I needed real world experience. Which means he sent me to Blackwoods College and let me get a job at a boutique advertising agency instead of chaining me to some random department in the company where I’d slowly rise to the top purely on the basis of my name.
Grandpa stands again and paces behind the desk. I’ve never seen him like this before. The great Graham Rowe was a master of business in his day, a titan of industry, a formidable force, and a terrifying man to grow up with. In all my life, I’ve never glimpsed him worried, not a single time. Angry and disappointed, yes, plenty, but never activelyworried.Right now, Grandpa looks like he’s on the verge of pulling out his own hair, and it’s scaring me.
“There’s another option.” He stops pacing and clears his throat. “You have to understand. Your father took millions from the company and burned even more of our personal fortune in his little crypto scheme.” Grandpa makes a face. “All that money evaporated overnight and the family is left in perilous condition. Nobody’s coming to save us, Brice, and Rowe Oil’s not going to survive much longer, not with all this bad press and the money missing. The oil pumps will stop, and once they stop, we’ll never be able to afford to turn them back on. This is the end of our family as we know it, all because your father thought it was smart to invest well over half of our net worth incrypto coins.” He grinds out the last two words like he’s breaking them between his teeth.
“What can I do to help?” I ask, shaking slightly. The idea that our family might disintegrate is too much to imagine. The Rowe family has been in Texas for generations, rich beyond measure, powerful and connected to politicians at every level, and yet it feels like all of that is about to disappear practically overnight. How can a family with such deep roots suddenly topple? It’s inconceivable, and yet, it’s happening.
Grandpa meets my gaze and he looks like a man staring into his own coffin. “Thereissomething you can do, Brice. But you aren’t going to like it. I don’t like it myself. In fact, I find this whole enterprise obscene and distasteful, but an opportunity arose, and—” He stops himself, hand tightening around the whiskey. He tosses it back, drains the glass, and puts it down on the desk. Almost as an afterthought, he says, “Maybe you should have a drink too.”
“No, thank you,” I say quietly, feeling sick, wondering where my uncles are, where my cousins are, why this is falling entirely on me right now. Uncle Ted is the CFO, Uncle Wade is the head of engineering, even my cousin Summer is a top lawyer for the company. Why am I the one sitting here, the daughter of the traitor and the reason for our family’s downfall, and the only Rowe that’s not actively in the company?
Grandpa rubs his face. The way he keeps skirting the problem makes my stomach feel like its eating itself. “You have to understand, Brice. He asked for youspecifically. I said there were other deals we could make, other ways, even suggested Summer, for God’s sake, but—”
“What are you talking about?” I sit back, bewildered and overwhelmed. “Grandpa, just tell me what’s going on, please.Whoasked for me and why?”
He stares at me levelly. “There’s an offer on the table to invest in Rowe Oil. It’ll be for a minority stake and it’ll include two seats on the board, but it’ll save us, Brice. It’s enough money to keep Rowe Oil going for a while longer and to stabilize the family’s finances. But he asked foryouand he said there are no other options.”
“Who asked for me?”
“Carmine Scavo.”
The name hits me like a kick to my chest. Suddenly, I’m back in college seven years earlier, my face being ground into the dirt, and that savage monster’s words ringing in my ears.God, you’re so much prettier with a little dirt on you, you filthy fucking girl.
“I don’t understand,” I say, rocking back in the chair, body tingling and every nerve on fire.
“I’m told you two know each other from Blackwoods.” Grandpa’s barely looking at me now. “The Scavo family is uncouth and uncivilized at best, but they’re the only offer on the table. Carmine’s young, but he’s been buying up gas stations all across the country, and he sees this as his chance to get his family into the oil industry for real. They’re serious people with serious money, and even if that money comes from ugly sources, we need it right now. Beggars can’t be choosers, and for the first time in a very long time, the Rowes are beggars.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head rapidly. “Grandpa. You’re joking, right? You’re going to take money from thosegangsters?” The idea is so scandalizing it feels like my entire worldview is crumbling into pieces.
Graham Rowe would never, ever deal with people like the Scavo family. Petty mafioso, criminals, thieves, killers. The Rowe familysimplydoesn’t make deals with men like that.
And yet.
Grandpa says, “There’s more. Carmine offered the money for the stock plus the board seats, but he had one more string attached. Apparently, he’s under some pressure to get married, and you happen to be single.” His face betrays nothing.
I want to scream.
“Grandpa.” I get to my feet and stumble back to the fireplace. The cold stone is freezing under my fingers and my grandfather won’t look at me. Horror rips into my chest and stomach, and I can taste the dirt again and feel the total and utter shame coursing through my veins. I heard Carmine got kicked out of the game for that and took some more shit from the college, but there were no real repercussions for what he did to me.
For how he made me feel.
Like I was nothing. Like I was a stain beneath his fingers.
There never are repercussions for the men that run the world, no matter howuncivilizedthey may be.
And I hate him for it.
“Your father did this to us.” Grandpa finally looks up at me with those searing eyes of his and meets my gaze. If he can see the terror running down my spine right now, he doesn’t seem to care. “Your father did this, Brice, and now you have a chance to put it all right. Carmine might not be the man I imagined my granddaughter would marry, but we need him right now.”
“I can’t. You don’t understand. Carmine, he’s—” How can I make him understand? Carmine isn’t only the head of a powerful mafia family; he’s also a sick monster, a scumbag, a grungy piece of trash that’ll drag me through the mud for the pure pleasure of it if given the chance. Carmine doesn’t care about me, not one bit.
This is some sick game he’s playing.
He wants to use me.
Filthy girl.
