The Emperor (The Tarot Club 2)

“Hello, Mother.” Corinne spoke on an exhale, the exhaustion of having to deal with her parents visible to even the untrained eye.

How could they be so fucking blind?

“This is Dimitri Petkov.”

Her introduction was halting - stiff - uncertain, and I watched her mother’s gaze flick towards where our hands were joined. In defiance of the pitiful woman who stood before me, I brought Corinne’s hand towards me and allowed my lips to graze her knuckles.

Her gaze flared in distaste, but she did not say anything - wouldn’t, not here at least.

“Good to meet you.” Corinne’s father stepped forward, maintaining social decorum where his wife failed. I imagined that that didn’t occur too often.

“This is my father, Alan, and my mother, Emily.” Corinne’s voice was thready, filled with nerves, and I hated these people for making her feel any less than what she was. She wasn’t going back with them; it wasn’t even up for debate.

“The pleasure is all mine.” I shook his hand, applying a slight amount of pressure before we took our seats.

“Petkov?” Alan enquired, and I could see from the glint in his eyes that he knew who I was - or least what the fiscal news boasted about me.

“Yes,” I smiled, throwing that boarding school charm into every word I spoke. I would set these people on fire if they so much as looked at Corinne wrong, parents be damned.

“From Petkov industries?”

And there it was. His expression was one of mild curiosity, but I could see he was already calculating exactly how much I was worth - and working out how he could propose some sort of business venture.

But breakfast was not the place to discuss such matters.

“The one and only,” I shrugged self assuredly, the movement at such odds of who I truly was.

I felt Corinne’s gaze on me and revelled in the knowledge that I too, could play the role required of me - for her I would do it.

“Is this where you’ve been staying?” Emily Rand interrupted, seemingly oblivious to her husband’s maneuvering.

Corinne blanched at the accusation in her mother’s voice, and I only gripped her hand harder. Emily Rand was about to have a grain silo with her name on it.

“It’s my fault.” I grinned, flashing some teeth at the despicable woman. “I can’t stand being apart from her.”

“Darling, come now.” Alan’s admonishing tone was probably as firm as he got with his wife, but it seemed to be enough for Emily Rand to reign herself in, even if her dissatisfaction in her daughter’s choices stained the air.

“How long are you in New Orleans?” Corinne held her own against her parents, never once showing them how much she despised their world.

“A few days.” It was Alan who answered as Emily pressed her lips into a thin line, widening her distaste. I fucking hated this woman. How had she even spawned Corinne.

“That’s wonderful.” I offered. “I’ve already asked Henla to prepare the guest suite for you two.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary, we always stay here.” Emily’s voice was sharp and cutting, and in another circumstance, I may have appreciated her backbone, but not here.

“We would love to stay with you and Corrine.”

Alan spoke over his wife, and it seemed my money and connections over-rode any semblance of concern for their daughter’s well being his wife had. No doubt, when she caught on to who I was, she would be easily swayed.

Coffee was brought to the table and I watched Corinne inhale it as if it had the power to awaken her very soul, strengthening her enough to deal with the vile people before us.

“I don’t know how many times I need to tell you, Corinne, but caffeine ages you. You weren’t blessed with incredible skin to begin with, and if you continue the way you are, by the time you’re thirty you won’t be able to meet me for breakfast straight from bed.”

What the fuck was wrong with her skin? I watched Corinne shrink in her chair, and bid my rage to sink low, beneath the surface.

“Apologies.” I smiled - leaning on all the charm I possessed. Arlo had always been so much better at this part of the business than I was, but still, I wouldn’t allow this woman to belittle Corinne - if that was the case, Emily Rand could fuck right off out of my town.

“I kept her up late.”