Chapter 79

Chapter 79
“My parent’s network?” Zander spat, laughing incredulously. “Where the fuck have you been for the last decade? Even before you moved to Florida, you didn’t give two shits about SBC. You only attended board meetings, and even that was half-heartedly and solely for the chance of screwing my dad over somehow. You could have managed it yourself, but you chose to give it to some incompetent asshole because working is not your jam. I spend ten hours a day in the office. I live it. I breathe it. I eat it. But when I make one decision that has nothing to do with it, it’s suddenly an issue. This network is not yours more than it is mine. Just because Kristal was born into the right family doesn’t mean she’s right for me. And that bullshit where you marry someone without standing up to their fucking face? I had a front-row seat to that scenario at home, and I’m sure I’m not spoiling it for you when I say it ended badly. One last thing—Elvie is not, in fact, disposable,” he noted. “But I know a few people who are.”

Now it was her turn to stand up and throw her hands in the air. “Zander, I know you are hurt. Their death is sad. All we ever wanted was for you to be happy. Don’t give me this holier-than-thou attitude. If I may recall, you’re not innocent, either.”

He kicked her precious sofa’s frame. The price tag fell, and he took sick pleasure in how symbolic that felt. “Yeah, you made us very fucking happy. Especially the part where you ask my parents to forgive Matheo when he sent his son to a goddamn war zone to keep him away from Kristal because his blood wasn’t blue enough, then proceeded to fuck her. All while you were standing on the sidelines doing what, exactly? Finding more hot, young ass my age? Really, you two should host a talk show on how to raise kids. Or, you know, on how to kill them.”

She blinked at him, cupping her mouth with the hand that held the cigarette. “I thought you were the one who sent Patrick away.”

Zander turned around, glaring at her. “Huh? ”

She rubbed the side of her forehead, looking around for an imaginary person to explain everything to her. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. Lost. She looked lost.

“When I asked Matheo what happened, he said you sent Patrick to Thailand, and that he would never forgive himself for letting you get away with it.

“I was mad, Zander, so mad. I broke my ties with him solely for not standing his ground, but I couldn’t divorce you. You’re my sister’s son. We are family. I tried so very hard not to hold it against you. I love you so much. I always will, but I didn’t know why you needed to interfere with Kristal’s life like that. You and Kristal were different. So maybe I thought you loved her so much that's why you sent Patrick away from her.”

No, he wanted to correct. “It wasn't me; it was Matheo, and I don't love Kristal like that.”

Zander shook my head. “He lied. He’s always lied. Why would you ever believe that old cow? The only reason I let him do that was because I figured if I could play house with Kristal Davis, she could find another charming fuckboy to piss her parents off. When I realised she was miserable without Patrick, I told my parents the truth."

“I thought they were mad at you.”

“No. They were mad at Matheo.”

“Then why do you always think it was your fault?” She plopped on the sofa, holding her head in her hands.

“Because I should have told them somewhere else. Not in the fucking street. Because I should have fought Matheo. Because I fucking failed my parents! And it's my fault they die.”

There was a coffee table and an ocean between us, and Zander realised he hadn’t given Elvie the entire truth when she’d asked about his relationship with his aunt. In all honesty, he had no relationship to speak of with either of his relatives. The truth was, he no longer had a family or a friend. He was no less lonely than Elvie was.

“You never loved Kristal." His aunt’s voice softened, and her eyes followed suit.

Zander shook his head. A year ago, I’d cared for her—in some fucked-up way. But to say I didn’t love her now was like saying I disliked eating shit-smeared rocks. A real under-fucking-statement. He thought to himself.

She nodded. “Can you save SBC?”

“Not at the price of being unhappy for the rest of my life. I have a family now; I have a child and a wife!"Zander tilted his chin up. Yeah, no, thank you. I didn’t want Matheo’s life. However, watching my family’s business die was going to make me unhappy. I was headed straight into misery, no matter which path I chose.

His aunt stood up, walked cautiously towards him, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed his cheek, her lips halting at his ear.

“You’re nothing like Matheo,” she whispered. “I promise you.”

No shit.



Elvie dragged her suitcase up the stairs to the mansion, letting out a feral groan. Why had she packed her entire room before she left for Florida? Oh, that’s right. Because she'd wanted to dazzle her emotionally stunted boss or husband by showing off her alluringly boring wardrobe, consisting of an eighty-year-old librarian’s conservative dresses and an unhealthy amount of shoes.

Zander had offered to help her with the suitcase, but she politely declined, and she guessed he was relieved.

Our Floridian getaway had taken a sour turn after they’d left his aunt’s place. The stone-skipping and record-shopping were replaced by the usual dark fuck-a-thon, in which they were lost in a tornado of feelings and numbness. They’d walked the main street in heavy silence before Zander had dragged her into a Cuban dance club. They’d watched other people dance and grind into one another while they drank tequila.

“Your brother seems to think you fell in love with me.” She’d tried to laugh it off.

He’d pressed his thumb to her lower lip and pushed it down, licking the inside of it. “My brother thinks women should stay in the kitchen, and global warming is a hoax. Let’s try not to take him too seriously.”

“He wasn't like that before... I think something is wrong with him. Or he remembered something from my parents' accident?”

“Zander…”

“Sorry, I'm just confused! But I don’t hate you, Elvie,” he’d said as he changed the topic. “And that’s more than I can say about the rest of the world right now. I never hated you before. Our first marriage was a mistake, but I never hated you. I hated myself for believing that.”

They’d stumbled back to their hotel suite and had enough sex to repopulate an entire continent—if that was how sex worked. It was angry, sad, and intimate. It felt like they’d risen together in the air and evaporated somewhere else, safer and better. But in the back of Elvie’s mind, she still remembered that she was an obstacle to Zander.

All of his professional issues could disappear if she stepped out of the picture.

Zander could marry Kristal again. Or at least stay engaged forever.

He could save the SBC. He could save a lot of employees, too. Her friends—a lot of people.

He could have everything he’d worked for, for many, many years, and still be the detached bastard who picked up strangers at bars to satisfy his physical cravings.

Uncomplicated. Straightforward. Simple. Just the way he liked it.

That Sunday afternoon, Elvie pushed the door to the mansion open and froze on the threshold, his heart dropping to the pit of his stomach. His suitcase fell to the floor with a thud. No.

His brother was sitting at the dining table, having what appeared to be a pleasant conversation with Patrick over her favourite donuts and cups of coffee. Patrick laughed wholeheartedly and pushed something over the table, and that’s when she noticed they were playing Scrabble.

Fan-freaking-tastic.

“Oh, there you are!” Patrick clapped and swivelled his body towards her in his chair, his face glowing with a genuine smile.

He looked handsome in a polo shirt and new haircut, but in a generic way. Not only did he not hold a candle to Zander, he didn’t even hold a damp match. Not that beauty had anything to do with the fact that her room service breakfast was threatening to come up her throat for another pukefest.

“Hello. You’re here?” She threw her keys into the ugly bowl Mrs. Hawthorne had given them by the front door, looking between them. Joey put his letters down and turned in his seat.

“Elvie, remember Patrick? Damn! He never changes; he is still the smartest.”

Patrick grinned sadistically, arranging his letters on the board in front of him. “Busted. B-u-s-t-e-d,” he spelled the word out loud. Goose pimples ran down her arms, making the little hairs stand on end.

“That’s a good one.” Her brother clapped. “Smart as a whip, man.”

“Thank you, Joey. Elvie, how's the vacation with your dear husband?” He grabbed a heart-shaped donut from the open white box on the table, motioning for her to take it as he winked at her.

“It’s okay. I really stuffed my mouth while I was on vacation.”

“Thea is looking for you, waiting in her room.”

“I know.”

The smile on her lips felt like clay. Elvie hadn’t been planning to tell Joey about what Zander thought of him when she came back anymore. After the disastrous conference call, she’d felt like she was walking on a tightrope, about to fall from grace and into the arms of heartbreak.

She knew what would set her brother free of her husband’s claws. But it hurt like hell—the concept of letting him go so she could save the one she loved.

But wasn’t that the essence of caring for someone else? Hurting so they wouldn’t have to?

“Then how about a walk?” Patrick perked up like a doting grandmother. “The weather is nice. We haven’t taken a stroll in your neighbourhood in a while.”

“Sure. Let me get freshened up.”

After a quick bathroom stop, during which she looked in the mirror and promised herself she wasn’t, in fact, going to throttle herself, she walked out and kissed her brother goodbye after kissing her daughter sleeping in her room.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes, Joey," she assured him.

Patrick and she stepped out of the mansion and took a right turn toward the main road. She waited for him to talk, because she wasn’t entirely sure of the extent of his knowledge about her love life.

“You’re welcome for that save.” He jerked his thumb behind his shoulder.

She pretended to wipe her forehead. “Thanks, Captain Save-a-Bitch. Would you like me to sew you a costume? What’s your superpower, dicking your way up the company ladder?”

He knocked his shoulder against hers, smiling. “That’s rich for a girl who was about to lose her sht.”

How the hell did he know? She choked on her saliva, coughing as he continued to saunter beside her.

“Did you know about what happened with Kristal at the office?” she asked.

“Of course.” Patrick smiled. “Did you know that your husband almost killed me?”

She rolled her eyes and said, “I'm not surprised!”

“Huh! You are mean, but he told me to stay away from you.”

“Figure!” she smiled back. 

“But she broke her contract with Kristal, and SBS is now in danger; your father will—”

“That's why I'm here.” Patrick sighed, plucking a wad of leaves from the trees bowing over them. “Between making dirty headlines.”

She frowned. “Matheo knew who—”

“Yes, he knew who tipped you; he fired him,” he scowled.

Elvie’s ears pinked, as they did when adrenaline ran through her. “Was he threatening Zander?”

“Yes.”

“And you are telling me this, because?” she raised her brow at him.

“Elvie, you are my friend, Zander is my friend.”

“Patrick, have you lost your mind? Matheo is your biological father.” She shook her head.

“I know, but I hate the bastard. He took Kristal from me. He betrayed Zander’s parents.”

She bit her tongue so hard that the metallic taste of blood rolled inside her mouth. “Can I ask you for something, Patrick?”

He leaned against the fence, his tense expression unknotting into a forgiving smile. “Elvie, of course.”

“Did you know who killed his parents?”

“I don't know,” Patrick answered. “But tell Zander to ask my father.”

Elvie nodded her head as she turned around and walked home, not bothering to look back and see his reaction. She walked in the gate to the mansion door, and Joey was in the shower. Thea was screaming her name with a smile that could melt a devil’s heart.