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“How about some music before dinner?” Sebastian says casually.
“Sure.” I follow him to the living room, munching happily on my pizza bagels—
I freeze in the doorway. “What is that?” I breathe in disbelief.
“This?” Sebastian looks even more smug. “Just your new piano.”
My… What?
I drift forward, taking in what has to be the most beautiful instrument I’ve ever seen. “But… This is a Fazioli,” I whisper, recognizing the emblem of the famed maker. I reach out and stroke the polished surface with my fingertips.
Sebastian smiles. “Sit. Get a feel for it.”
I sink onto the stool in disbelief, tentatively putting my fingers to the keys. I’ve never even touched anything like this. Fazioli pianos cost over two hundred thousand dollars, and from the feel of it, they’re worth every penny.
“Play something,” Sebastian says, still watching me from across the room.
I take a deep breath. I can’t overthink it, otherwise I’ll never feel like anything I play would be worthy of this great instrument, so I close my eyes and play the first thing that pops into my mind,All of Meby John Legend. For a few moments, the world melts away, and it’s just me and the music, and my voice, in the quiet of the room.
Then I finish, and come back to reality again, flushed.
I snatch my hands away. “Sorry,” I blurt.
Sebastian raises his eyebrows. “What for?”
“Nothing, I just… I’m not good enough to play something like this.”
“Says who?”
I give a short laugh. “Uh, anyone with a set of ears?” I stroke the keyboard reverently. “Something like this is meant for real musicians.”
“It’s meant for anyone I say,” he replies arrogantly. “And I say it’s yours.”
I study him. He’s watching me, sipping his wine, and actually seems… happy. “I’ve never seen you like this,” I remark, smiling.
“That’s because you’ve never seen me when I close a deal.” Sebastian takes a long sip. “Play something else,” he instructs me, but I pause, wary.
“What deal?” I ask.
“The Dunleavey matter,” Sebastian strolls closer, setting his glass on the top of the piano. And I’m so focused on his words, I can’t even tell him to move it in case he leaves a mark.
“You finally arranged the partnership with Alistair?” I ask.
Sebastian smirks. “No. The old fool wouldn’t take a good deal when he saw one. So, I staged a hostile takeover. As of tonight, Wolfe Capital owns a controlling stake in Dunleavey shipping.” He smiles, pleased. “With the real estate assets and machinery, I’ll be able to strip the company for parts and make a nice profit.”
“Strip it?” I echo, shocked. “But what about the business? All the employees? Alistair said at lunch, it’s a family company.”
“Was,” Sebastian corrects me. “Now, it’s mine, and I’ll run it as I see fit. Which means losing most of the workforce—and management, too. Dead weight,” he says with a shrug. “They’ve held on long enough.”
I stare at him, sickened by the casual cruelty in his tone. “Those are people’s lives,” I say quietly. “How can you talk about them like that?”
Sebastian shrugs. “Easily.”
“You have no right,” I tell him angrily.
“I have every right,” he replies. “It says it right there in the contracts, next to the eighty million I just invested. My money, my rules.”
I shake my head, disgusted. “I forgot, we’re all just property to you.”
