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Pulling into the compound, I sit and try to calm down, taking long breaths in and slowly releasing them. Then, when that doesn’t work, I bellow as I hammer my fists on the steering wheel to at least take the edge off my frustration. It still doesn’t work, and I climb out of the car feeling like my skin is crawling with anxiety and fury.
I have a meeting with my father, but I’m early, so I make my way up to Clara’s suite and knock on her door.
“It’s Nico,” I call, then wait. I hear the lock, and then she’s yanking the door open and jumping into my arms. “Oof.Hey, sis.”
“What are you doing here?” she asks, stepping back into the room. I close the door behind me and follow her to sit on an armchair.
“I’m early, so thought I’d say hi.”
“Early for what?”
“You don’t wanna know.” She probably does, but I can’t tell her—we both know that.
“Top secret, hey?” she asks sarcastically, but lets the topic drop anyway. “So, what’s been going on with you? How’s Harlow?”
“You don’t wanna know,” I repeat with a groan. There’s nothing good to tell her in that regard, and she’s kind of the reason why, not that I’d ever blame her.
“Wow, what great conversation skills you have, brother,” she teases. “Is she not into you?”
“That kind of became irrelevant the moment Dad found out about her and started using her as a tool.”
Her mouth drops open, and whether it’s because she’s realizing what she’s set into motion or that our father would actually do it, I’m not sure. Either way, it doesn’t matter.
“Shit, Nico.”
“Whatever,” I bite out harsher than I intended, but it’s hard to try and remain casual when I’m so pent up inside at the mention of Harlow and the shit she’s being forced into.
“How can I help? Let me join.”
I scoff a surprised laugh. As if that’s ever been an option. “Like he’d let that happen.”
“Are you not supposed to be in charge?” she asks with a raise of her brow, and it’s clear she hears a lot more around here than she’s supposed to, but I’m sick of people taking this shit so lightly and walking in voluntarily. If I had the choice, I’d be getting as far away from everything it touches as quickly as possible.
“It’s not happening!” I snap. I hate yelling at her, but if it saves her life, it’ll be worth it. “I’m this close to cracking having Harlow involved, you think I can handle having you in it too?”
She relents and has the decency to look sheepish. I’m not trying to make her feel bad about letting slip to them about Harlow, but it’s taking its toll, and I’m nearly fresh out of patience for other people right now.
“There’s also hundreds of other people,” she says softly, but I don’t know why. Does she mean to take the focus off Harlow?
“People I don’t give a fuck about. That’s their choice.” Harlow never had a choice.
“I thought Dad forced everyone.”
“Nope,” I say, popping thepwith disgust. “There are enough willing fuckers out there for him to fill his ranks without force. It’s just his kids he saves that for, and any extras he thinks will help him win.”
“And his enemies,” she murmurs, and it’s clear she knows a lot more than anyone would think, but I’m not up for getting into that right now. Thankfully, she seems to get that. “I’m happy to have you here,” she says.
I smile, although I’m sure it seems more like a grimace. I wish I could say the same. Instead, I get up and let myself out.
“Lock this,” I tell her as I leave, and I wait for the tell-tale click of her door locking before I go down to my father’s office. I make my way through the main home that I’m sure no one uses. She’s too scared to roam, and he’s too power hungry to relax. When I get there, I throw myself with disdain into the chair opposite him. Not that he cares. My uncle is in the seat next to me already, their conversation halting when I enter.
“How did it go?” my father asks, as if there was any other option going into that conversation with Harlow and the guys.
“They’re in, but they’re not staying here. They don’t need to.” I see him go to argue, but his eyes flit to his brother next to me before he decides against it. His brow relaxes and he steeples his hands on the desk between us.
“I’m proud of how you’re stepping up, son.” I almost gag at the words coming from him.
“I will never be proud to be your son.”
