Empire of Desire(Empire #1)(19)

My sneakers make an inaudible sound on the floor as I look for him. It doesn’t take me long to find him, but before I can rejoice, my heart clenches.

He’s not alone. He’s with the witch. Aspen.

Dad calls her that. The witch. I haven’t used that name for her in the past, but now I do because maybe she’s enchanting Nate with black magic. After all, she’s the only woman he pays any attention to. The only woman he relaxes around and shows that slight twitch in his lips to.

Some would call it a smile. But I’ve always considered it half a smile. Almost there, but not really.

Anyway, he only shows it to her and I hate it and her. I hate how put-together she is. How she wears high heels and walks comfortably in them, as if they’re nonexistent, and has the best collection of pant and skirt suits ever, not like my dull jean shorts and favorite white sneakers. I hate how her hair is bright red like her lipstick, not coppery and rusty like mine.

But what I hate the most is how compatible she is with Nate. How effortlessly they flow, how good they look together without even trying. She’s successful, cunning, and a boss bitch in their firm. The exact type of woman I imagine Nate being attracted to.

I overheard him say it to Dad once, that he likes women who go after their careers as aggressively as men do. He likes intelligent women with fire, like Aspen.

It’s not a surprise that the king likes a queen.

Because that’s the thing, right? The king doesn’t look in the direction of damsels in distress, doesn’t like doing any saving.

Suddenly, I’m hyperaware of what I am to him. A hurdle that’s pulling him down. An obligation left behind by his best friend.

My nails dig into the jacket and I can feel the spicy scent in it rising to my throat and suffocating me. I can feel the woodsy smell turning into high trees that I’m unable to see through or climb over.

I step back and sprint to the chair he left me in. I’ll just return his jacket and stop being a pain in his ass. The last thing I want is to become the annoying kid he has to take care of on his friend’s behalf.

I’m not a kid anymore. I’m twenty and I can take care of myself. I can handle everything, from Dad’s coma to the house to whatever he left behind.

My chest squeezes when I recall Dad’s state. I don’t even have anyone I can turn to anymore.

My feet come to a halt when I find a familiar face standing in front of the window of Dad’s room.

She’s wearing a flamboyant pink dress that has a cocktail of colors in it. A feathered hat with the shades of the rainbow sits snuggly on her head, allowing her bleached strands to peek through.

I approach her slowly, struck by how old she actually appears, despite all the Botox and things she’s done to her face. It’s like it has turned into a mask. Not to mention how swollen and big her lips are, as if they’ve been stung by dozens of bees.

“Susan?”

She doesn’t break eye contact with Dad, and I’m not strong enough to look at him again in his state, but I can see the way she observes him.

How her eyes take in the entirety of him, flicking back and forth as she runs her gloved hand over her leather bag. Also pink.

“Susan,” I try again, not sure if she heard me the first time.

“He’s in such bad shape,” she says quietly, without any expression.

I fight the tears trying to escape and clink my thumb against my forefinger beneath Nate’s jacket. So it’s my nails against his jacket. In a way, he’s here with me.

Also, there’s a bandage around my finger that I didn’t notice before. Was he the one who put it there?

My thoughts are scattered when Susan faces me, her snobbish expression strapped firmly in place. “The bastard finally got what he deserves.”

I reel back from the force of her words, my chin trembling. “How…how could you say that? Even if you guys fought, he’s facing death right now.”

“As he should have a long time ago. His type of evil needed to be punished sooner rather than later.”

“Susan!”

“I’m going to give you a piece of advice, even though you’re that devil’s spawn.” She steps closer until all I can smell is the strong notes of her dizzying perfume. “It’d be better if you drop all the cases and move out of the house. My lawyer said I can win the house back and also the shares in Weaver & Shaw that my husband owned before they were reverted back to your conniving father.”

I’m shaking my head despite my attempts to appear unfazed. Dad spent a lot of time, effort, and money to secure the house and the firm. There’s no way in hell she can take everything, right? Surely, there’s something I can do.

Susan reaches her gloved hand out and clutches my chin between her thumb and forefinger and gives it a little shake. “I’d hate to squash a little girl like you, so why don’t you save us both the trouble and drop everything? You’ll have your trust fund when you’re twenty-one and that’s enough to keep you wealthy for a lifetime. I’m having my lawyer draw up a contract so all you have to do is sign.”

“No,” I murmur, my nails digging into the jacket.

Her swollen lips twist. “What did you just say?”

“No!” I push away from her, my body trembling. “I won’t allow you to take Dad’s hard-earned things. Never! And he isn’t dead, Susan! He’ll come back and make you regret ever suggesting that to me.”