Worth Everything (Worth It 4)

“This is such bullshit. Why are we wasting time talking to her and the lawyer? We’re probably just giving them fodder they can use against us when they take us to court anyway,” Hunter said.

“I have no plans to take you to court,” she started, but he cut her off with a sneer.

“Save it.” Hunter held up a hand, dismissing her with a finger wave. “We know why you’re here. You get cut off from Renaldi, so now you’re sniffing around, looking for another inheritance to put into your bank account.”

She gasped, shocked at his accusation. “You don’t know me. How dare you pass judgment on me?” Gavin rested a hand on her forearm, most likely a warning for her to be quiet but she ignored it.

“It’s a sordid little story, you have to admit. I’m surprised the media hasn’t made a bigger deal of it and continuously splashed the lurid details all over the tabloids, but I assume they have bigger fish to fry.” Hunter shrugged, his shoulders straining the fine fabric of his charcoal gray suit. “We’re lucky in that regard, unless you plan on leaking more information and making us look like complete assholes.”

Another gasp left her, this one louder. “Do you really think that low of me?”

“Sweetheart, that would be an affirmative.” Hunter leaned across the table, his hard gaze meeting hers. “Don’t think you can just waltz in here and make all it’s-happy-family-time with us. I’m on to your game. I know what you really want.”

“All I—I want is a sense of place. I want to get to know you all as my brothers. As my family.” She hated that he made her falter over her words, that he intimidated her so. She hadn’t expected the anger, the outright hostility.

“Give me a break. You really want a piece of the Worth fortune. And guess what?” When she didn’t answer quickly enough, he grinned, looking like a shark out for the kill. “You’re not getting a fucking dime of it.”

Chapter Thirteen

Takeout Chinese food was the cure-all for life’s problems. At least, that’s what Gavin had believed from the time he was a child and wishing he had a normal upbringing. His had been anything but normal, what with a father who ditched them before Gavin could remember him and a mother who wasn’t one to stick to a decent job for any normal length of time. That meant money was always tight. They’d moved a lot, from one shithole to another, and he started hanging out with the worst sort of kids, not that his mother ever cared what he was doing.

But when she was feeling low or having a bad day, his mom would bring home Chinese takeout, and for a little while, both of them could pretend everything was all right. Those nights with his mom had given him a flicker of hope. Made him realize that maybe everything would be all right someday.

She’d had such plans for him. That he would go on and do something great with his life and take care of her. They’d usually laugh, him muttering a sarcastic yeah, right, but secretly, he’d wanted to take care of her. Provide her with everything she’d never had.

Too bad she passed away before she saw him graduate law school. He knew she would be proud. Would’ve probably bragged to all her friends what a big-shot lawyer her son was. Her death had been a shock, a massive heart attack at the age of thirty-nine. He knew she’d died of anxious worry. They’d never had enough money to cover anything. He’d suffered with threadbare, too-small clothes, worn out shoes, and sometimes on rare occasions, no food to eat.

It had been a tough life. He’d been a tough kid with a tremendous chip on his shoulder too. He’d hated pretty much everyone. Had an issue with authority figures. Was flippant, defiant, a juvenile delinquent with a penchant for finding trouble and a frequent drug user.

All before the age of eighteen.

That had been his saving grace—getting all that out of his system, so to speak, prior to becoming of legal age. He’d met a man, an older retired guy who moved into their building. A man who had no problems telling him he was a disrespectful asshole troublemaker who was driving his mother to an early grave.

For once, Gavin had listened—and taken the old man’s advice. He’d straightened up, graduated school, worked hard at community college, and lo and behold, got into law school. Like some sort of miracle, he’d done right.

He missed her, regretted how he’d treated her, though she wouldn’t have won a mother of the year award. Sometimes, late at night, when his thoughts drifted to her, guilt consumed him. Had he driven her to an early grave?

It was too horrific to contemplate for long.

So whenever he was down, when he lost a case, when he became so consumed with work he thought he might drop, he got Chinese takeout for dinner. It calmed his soul, reminded him of those rare carefree times he’d spent with his mother, and besides, he really freaking liked Chinese food.

Tonight, for Stasia, he’d ordered so much damn food, it felt like there were at least a hundred of those tiny little takeout boxes scattered across his kitchen counter. He’d wanted to cheer her up, hated to see her so sad and thought food would be a good option to however temporarily cure her blues.

He’d been wrong. She picked at th

e food on her plate, hardly ate any of it. Hardly talked either. The meeting had been a rough one. Alex was the quiet, noble one who wouldn’t give an inch until that damn DNA test came through. Hunter was hostile as fuck, hurling words as if they were weapons, one after the other, and then watching the aftermath with glee. The only one who’d been nice was Rhett, but he’d hardly said a word, almost as if he were afraid he’d step in it and say the wrong thing, only to deal with the wrath of his brothers.

Not that Gavin could blame the man, but still. Talk about a goddamn mess.

The meeting had lasted no longer than twenty minutes, and when they’d finally stumbled out of the Worth Building, both of them were stunned silent. He felt like he’d gone through a war zone, engaged in full-on combat, and he wasn’t even the one they’d attacked.

He could only imagine how Stasia must’ve felt. Still felt.

“Are you going to eat?” He pushed away his empty plate, his stomach so full it hurt. He’d been ravenous, having not eaten all day, too busy to stop for anything.

Stasia shook her head, pushing her plate away from her as well. “I appreciate the effort, but I’m not hungry.”

“Have you eaten at all today?” Concern filled him. He’d known her for only a short time and he swore she was thinner than when he’d first met her.