The Vessel - Jenika Snow Page 0,15

my office, the smooth, glossy mahogany table stretched out before us and seeming like miles separated us. Or maybe it was my thoughts doing that? Maybe I was so consumed with thoughts of Elise and how my growing attraction to her was bordering on consuming that everything else seemed like a distant memory.

Long minutes passed as Michael went through each page of the will, my father’s last demand, his unrealistic decree.

I stared out the window at the skyscrapers, trying in vain to focus on what was important, and that was making sure I kept my company and that my father didn’t try to stronghold me from the grave.

Finally, Michael cleared his throat, and I turned my attention to him. He leaned back in the leather chair, watching me, his expression stoic. I was usually very good at reading people, but aside from Elise, Michael was the one other person who had a lockdown on what he was thinking and feeling. That’s why he was a shark in the courtroom, why I paid him a small fortune on his retainer... because he knew when to keep his poker face on and when to bluff to win the game.

And right now, he had one hell of a poker face on.

“So?” I leaned forward and braced my forearms on the smooth top, clasping my hands together.

“It’s unethical as hell,” Michael finally said, and I scoffed.

“That’s my father for you.”

Michael gave me a smile. He had known my father well.

He exhaled. “But it’s legal, unfortunately. Stated in the trust, the Blacksmith Corporation and all affiliated companies shall be kept and passed on through your heir.” Michael looked at me. “But if no heir exists in your instance, then the trustee—your father—shall have sole discretion as to who will inherit the company.”

And like a kick to the nuts, I knew that wouldn’t be me.

He’d rather sell it off than let his only son keep the company alive.

“Fuck,” I cursed low, not even trying to hide my frustration or censor my annoyance and profanity.

“We can fight it, but the fact of the matter is, it would take time and money, and in the end, you might lose everything.”

I was silent for long minutes. I was trying to think this through, figure out what I was going to do.

“You and I have known each other a long time, Lucius.” I turned my attention to Michael. “Hell, we grew up together.”

I didn’t know where this was going, but I listened, knowing Michael would get to his point.

“You worked hard, dealt with a lot of shit from your old man.” He paused. “I’d hate to see you lose everything all because of this.”

Because of this?

“So what, you think I should just find some random woman, get her pregnant, and be done with it?”

Michael shrugged. “That’s your call and yours alone. All I’m saying is I’d hate for you to lose everything you worked for simply because your cold father set this into motion. You sometimes have to make those hard decisions, even if they seem counterproductive to what you want in life.”

I knew Michael had a point, and maybe it would’ve been easy for him, but for me, it was just another corner my father had put me in, and the outcome wasn’t any better no matter what route I took.

11

Elise

The taxi came to a stop in front of the landlord’s house, and I looked out the window, feeling my skin crawl. I had a couple interactions with him before, neither of them having been pleasant.

Once had been when he showed up unannounced at my aunt’s house stating he needed to check the piping in the bathroom. The other time was when we were grilling out, and he once again stopped over unannounced, because he said he saw smoke and there had been complaints.

A part of me felt like he just stopped by because he was a nosy fucker and didn’t have anything else to do. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he tried riffling through my aunt’s underwear drawer and sniffing them. That’s how fucking dirty he was.

I looked at the driver and could see him watching me in the rearview mirror. “Are you able to wait for me? This should only take a few minutes.” I hoped, at least.

He gave me a small odd, and I climbed out, clutching my purse to my side as I walked up the cracked asphalt to his front door. His lawn was overgrown, with weeds creeping up along the porch banisters.