Chapter Twenty-Five
Soren
Living the bachelor life in the Somerville carriage house has its perks. I don’t have to answer to my snotty father or deal with my codependent mother. And since everything is being provided for me, I don’t have to worry too much about my foundation crumbling.
All I have to do is make sure I don’t lose it.
It’s been a couple of days since the boathouse party, and my gut aches with guilt. Tomas and I went too far with Alex. Even Parker expressed some remorse over her punishment. It would have been nice just to fuck her silly, but she just had to mouth off, showing us that she’s always going to choose herself before she chooses any one of us.
I shouldn’t feel bad, but I do.
But my guilt goes on hold when my mother calls me.
“You should move back home, dear,” she insists. “Seeing as you’ve been away on your tantrum long enough.”
I snort. “You say that like it was my decision to leave.”
“Can’t you tell how much I miss you?”
“I’m not coming home, Mother. I’ve made myself rather comfortable here at the Somerville mansion. Getting kicked out was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
It’s not, but she doesn’t need to know that.
“Your nana hasn’t been doing very well,” she comments, “with her health declining and all. She keeps forgetting where she is.”
My hesitation must register because she does her triumphant sigh, a signal of her impending win. While allowing her any kind of victory during this battle is a poor idea, I can’t leave my nana to fade out of this world in such a cruel way.
“I’ll visit soon. I promise,” I tell her. “But I’m not moving back home.”
“Suit yourself.”
The line clicks, its resolute sound burning in my ear. I tuck the phone into my pocket, resting my hand over the object for a moment as if to keep it there. Living a life without my nana might very well destroy me—so I have to do everything in my power to make sure I create a stable world in which I can help her.
My shitty parents don’t seem particularly concerned about it.
Downstairs, a servant collects me with a message from Osmond—that he wishes to meet with me in his office. I’m curious about Parker’s father and what he could possibly want. It didn’t take much to convince him to allow my stay at the Somerville mansion, but I know the two of them don’t get along, so I hesitate to get between whatever war they’re waging.
The office is located at the heart of the mansion, decorated with rich crimson-black red hues, fine leather, and more books than the presidential library. Without glancing up from his mug, Osmond gestures to the available chair in front of his desk. “Soren, I’m impressed with you.”
“Sir?” I raise my eyebrows as I settle into the chair, keeping my back straight. “I don’t understand.”
“Your initiative with these deals you’re making shows me you might be able to handle a few of my own.”
I bow my head pensively, thinking about what he’s saying. “Would I be working for you?”
“Not necessarily. We could work together.” He pauses to set his mug on the desk and sets his beady gaze on me. “But only under certain conditions.”
“I’m listening.”
Though his smile might seem polite or professional to someone else, I know what lies beneath—the grimy, selfish hunger of a man who’s used to getting everything he wants. “You have a future with me, Soren, but you better forget about marrying Alex Moretti.”
The tension thickens in the air between us, prickling my skin. My instinct is to squirm, but I know better than to do that in front of a powerful Somerville, especially one like Osmond. He’s watching my every reaction, trying to find a point of weakness.
“How nice for you,” I state carefully. “Me as your hired gun and Moretti as your whore. Did Lev turn you down on this offer?”
“I can make you a bigger player than your father.”
I hum. “Is that so?”