Bardot coming in and ruining shit in my life once more. It’s not the first time I’ve had to learn about their family. The name is synonymous with secrets. The Bardot family come from old money, and with the help of his mother, Grace Bardot, they stole more from us than just a few million.
But then I learned more about Horatio. He’s got problems, some than money won’t fix. I only found out because I looked into why he spent far too much time in my club. It was then I realized something was amiss.
At first, I thought it was my good for nothing brother, but Darius had no access to funds, not mine anyway. Not Shaw money. But there’s more to the story than just the money. The problem is that Horatio has lost a lot more than his livelihood. He’s about to lose something far more precious to him.
With a sardonic grin on my face, I push to my feet, button my suit jacket, and make my way down to the main area of the club. Time to speak to Mr. Bardot and ensure that his signature is on the contract before he even thinks of playing in one of my rooms tonight.
Only, he doesn’t know just how expensive his needs have become.
2
Scarlett
The sleek, silver dress that drapes over my curves is beautiful, but even as I stare at myself in the mirror, I’m torn between going to this party or staying home. My mother, Marinda Bardot, is one of the most publicized socialites, while my father, Horatio Bardot, is working hard to get into the senator’s office.
Wealth comes at a steep price, and they don’t realize it. Since I was a child, I knew what I wanted to do, and it wasn’t to be the pretty arm candy my mother would like me to be. I have goals, dreams, and they don’t involve a man putting a diamond on my finger and knocking me up while he goes to his pristine office to run a Fortune 500 company.
I want to be the CEO of my own life, but with the Bardot name comes responsibility I’m not ready for. Granted, my gran, who I look up to, will understand if I told her my plans. Because of her, I was able to get an internship in New York in a few months.
My folks were not happy about that, but they acquiesced because Gran wanted it. Slipping my feet into the four-inch heeled sandals, I take in my outfit, my long, red hair plaited in a thick braid down to the middle of my back. Stray curls have already come loose, but I don’t tie them back. My wide, dark eyes are lined with black, my lashes darkened by mascara, and my lips are shimmering from the gloss painted over the deep red lipstick.
Perfectly poised.
I silently make my way out to the hallway, listening for my parents arguing, but find silence. Thankfully, they haven’t already started fighting, but the night is still young. By the time I reach the foyer, my mother appears from the dining room, a flute of champagne already in hand, her eyes sparkling as she takes me in.
“Oh, Scarlett,” she coos. “You look beautiful. There’ll be so many men wanting to dance with you this evening. I hope you’re ready.” Her excitement about finding me a man makes me want to run back upstairs and hide in my room. At my age, I should’ve moved out of the house already, but I stayed. Mainly to keep an eye on my folks, but also, I’ve always felt safe in my childhood home.
“Well, they’ll have to form a line,” I tell her with a fake smile plastered on my lips. If there’s one thing she’s taught me to do well, that’s pretending. It’s not that I wouldn’t like to be with someone, but the fact that she wants to marry me off to the most eligible bachelor leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
Laughter bounces from her lips, sounding like a tinkling coin against the expensive tiles as my father saunters toward us, a tight smile on his face and a gaze that flickers with apprehension. I notice the tension taut in his shoulders as he takes us in. “Are you ready?” he asks, his focus on me, and I nod. It doesn’t take my mother long to swallow down her drink, and soon enough, we’re in the town car as it weaves down our long driveway.