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I knew what my inheritance was.
If he died first, she was going to be absolutely fuming. I was pretty sure that was his plan—it would be just like him to die and leave me to deal with it all.
Although, as my father had once said, “Vincent has no use for a diamond necklace, does he?”
The argument, of course, was that his future wife and possibly daughter would. That was probably why the family heirlooms he intended to end up in my hands were in a safety deposit box somewhere, ready to be gifted to me within the next few years in the hopes of avoiding the same inheritance tax that had decimated so many aristocratic families over the years.
I wasn’t even sure Carmen knew those exact items existed.
I did question their marriage sometimes.
Quietly.
To my grandmother.
After my monthly dinners where I had fresh material to complain about Carmen.
I wasn’t a total bitch, honestly, just a little bit of one, and only when she couldn’t hear me. Not that it made it any better, but at least I wasn’t lying about it.
Besides, I wasn’t saying anything that I wouldn’t say to her face. Granny would probably beat me to it, though.
“Ah, Granny,” Amber said with a happy sigh. “Is she coming over again soon? I miss her roast beef.”
I laughed, putting my mug down. “I’m sure if I ask her nicely after I have dinner with my dad, she’d be happy to come for a roast beef bitchfest.”
“A roast beef bitchfest sounds like heaven, to be honest.”
She wasn’t wrong.
“When are you having dinner with your dad and the demons again?”
I fought back a laugh. “Vincent isn’t that bad, aside from being a teenage boy.”
“And Carmen?”
“Oh, you mean Beelzebub’s niece?”
Amber buried her face in her hands, and her shoulders shook as her amusement became too much. “I don’t know how you keep a straight face at those dinners.”
“Easy. When I get tempted to make a bitchy comment, I think about the family heirlooms in the bank vault and what the look on her face will be when she realises they belong to me.”
Slowly, my best friend nodded. “That will do it.”
“Mm. Anyway, dinner is this Friday, and I suspect it’ll be to talk about Vincent’s birthday.”
“So they don’t know about the colossal piss-up he’s organising in London, then?”
“Not a damn clue,” I replied, reaching for the biscuit packet. “He’s going to tell them then that he doesn’t want whatever they’re trying to plan.”
Amber narrowed her eyes. “Is he using you as his emotional support animal again?”
“Yeah, but he’s like my emotional entertainment animal because Iknowit’s going to piss Carmen off, so I’m all right with it.”
“Your family is extremely fucked up; do you know that?”
“Yes,” I replied. “That’s why I’ve been in therapy on and off for, like, fifteen years.”
“Aristocrats are weird.”
