Shattered Dynasty

The command is clear. Follow him.

I have a sinking feeling it’s one in a long list of orders to come, and I don’t see a way out of this.

Not without asking Erin for help.

I’m not sure which is the lesser of two evils. My sister is volatile, and her scumbag boyfriend gives me complete hives. I am a hundred and ten percent sure Brad is a criminal. The last time I was there, I witnessed him dealing to teenagers down the block from their apartment. And even without Brad, Erin is convinced Ronald and I shared a sordid relationship.

The very thought of what she implied is sickening.

It absolutely hurts.

The thing is, even if she believed me, I still wouldn’t be able to live with her. There are always strings attached to her help. I have too much on my plate to deal with that.

“That’s unfortunate for you,” I tell Trent. “Sorry, but I’m all out of fucks to give. Maybe you’ll find them in the house full of things you stole from me.”

“Cute,” he deadpans.

“Must be what good ole Ronnie found so special about me.”

It’s a low blow.

But I don’t regret it. They say revenge is throwing piss in a strong wind. If this asshole is picking bones with his late father by making my life a living hell, the least I can do is bite back. And I can bite. Fucking hard. Not in the way men usually like.

There’s a reason Ronnie left his money to me. Sure, he should have told me. But he was in jail. It wasn’t like he could hit me up without alerting everyone else the money existed. Unlike my sister and Trent, I trust Ronald and need to believe he wanted to make sure I would always be taken care of.

That’s the thought that helped me get through the pain of losing him right after his death.

Trent narrows his eyes. He eats up the space between us in three large strides. I’m pressed against the wall, shaking with something I’m shocked to realize isn’t fear. It’s excitement. His body pressed close to mine. His cologne. His eyes and how they burrow into me. This game we’re playing is dangerous. Addictive. I never craved adrenaline until Trent Aldridge, and nothing about this burgeoning addiction is healthy.

“Silly, silly girl,” Trent murmurs so low I strain to hear. “Ronald Aldridge was incapable of love, but if he wasn’t, you are the last person who would be on the receiving end of it.”

I flinch.

I cared for Ronnie deeply, but the more I hear the venom in Trent’s voice, the more skeptical I get.

Trent has spewed poison, and it’s killing off all the good feelings I have. A part of me, growing larger by the day, questions why the money was left to me. It’s obvious why it didn’t go to Erin. She’d blow through it faster than a virgin popping his cherry. But me? When he had a wife, a daughter, a son? Could it really be because Ronald thought of me as his daughter?

“He knew the truth would come out,” I tell Trent, just to throw him off balance. To even our hand. “After Ronnie died, Erin told me he was planning an appeal on his sentence.”

“Let me guess,” Trent drawls out, the sarcasm as thick as the humidity. “Ronnie thought by placing his money in your name, it’d sit in limbo until he was released.”

Well, yeah.

That was the theory I was running with.

But he made it sound like a stupid idea. As if I had a part in this grander than I was capable of. With all the things I’ve learned about Ronnie, I don’t think he ever intended for me to know about the money. He probably put it in my name solely to hide it until he got out of jail. He probably intended to transfer it to himself after he was released.

But I don’t tell Trent this.

That would mean letting him win.

The only thing that seems to dent his ego is the idea that Ronnie loved me as a daughter. The idea to use that to hurt Trent gains speed inside me. It’s a horrible thought. Alas, I’m dealing with a horrible person.

I can’t let him walk over me like this.

“No,” I tell Trent, following him out of the building at breakneck speed. His strides are so long, and he gives no fucks about my inability to keep pace. “It’s just a theory, but it makes more sense that he gave it to me because I matter to him. He considered me as his own daughter. Told me so himself.”

Trent walks straight to a car parked on the street, ignoring me. I think he’s reached his bullshit quota for the day, but I’m not done.

“He’d buy me ice cream, take me textbook shopping, and help me with my homework when I needed special insight.”