Page 71 of Prized Possession

I roll my eyes. “I make nopromises.”

“He’ll be on his best behaviour,” Miles states, discreetly punching me on the arm in a warning.

Before I can retaliate, we reach the formal sitting room. I take a moment to scan the room, force of habit given the world I live in. I’m always doing a risk assessment, looking for threats, as well as identifying all the exit routes, or anything that might be suspicious.

I know Miles is doing the same, probably to a much higher standard than me, but my father raised me to be constantly vigilant, as there are plenty of people out there who want me dead.

Chloe’s mother, Fiona, is sitting on the edge of the sofa, one foot hooked behind her other ankle, her back completely straight—the picture of high class etiquette.

She’s wearing a matching skirt suit in a pale pink colour, a white blouse underneath, with matching pink heels. I’m sure, given how posh the outfit looks, it’s designer, and I’d hazard a bet that the jewellery she’s wearing would buy some people a house.

For her age, she’s not a bad looking woman, but it’s clear she’s had a lot of work done to keep up with the younger society women. There was a big scandal almost a decade ago when Mrs Santoro came home from a break with new tits.

Eighteen-year-old me was very impressed, as they were a hell of a lot bigger than what she had before, and she wasn’t afraid of showing them off.

Now, a decade later, they look out of place on her. It’s not known how many other surgeries she’s had, but if I had to guess, I’d say she’s definitely had a face lift, liposuction, a bum lift, as well as lots of rounds of Botox and lip fillers.

I’m not sure there’s anything natural about her at all, which is ironic as she’s desperate to come off as a natural beauty. It’s why she insists on Chloe wearing a shovel full of make-up, with the purpose of making her look like she’s not wearing any.

What she doesn’t realise is that her daughter is a natural fucking beauty, and she looks amazing without any make-up.

Caleb takes a seat on the sofa beside Fiona, picking up his amber drink from the coffee table in front of him. He doesn’t bother to make any introductions, just gulps down his drink, ignoring the tension in the room.

On the wingback chair beside their sofa, Jacob is lounged back, looking worse than the last time I saw him. I catch Chloe out of the corner of my eye, wincing when she sees her brother.

He’s got dark bags under his eyes, and his skin looks pale and clammy. His head is tilted, resting on the back of the sofa, like he doesn’t have the energy to even hold his head up.

Jacob is usually immaculately dressed, as he’s had the same lessons drilledinto us as I have since we were little. Though today, he looks like he’s wearing the same crumpled clothes from last night, and given he appears to hardly have had any sleep, that’s not a great surprise.

I then catch sight of Scott on the opposite sofa, a little shocked to see his father beside him. He’s got grey hair and a beard, but other than that, he’s a match for Scott.

Since the Caprillos are aligned with the Santoros, my family don’t have much dealings with them, though I know my father has met with Ewan Caprillo on occasion.

As I stare at his slightly familiar face, I wonder if I’ve met him before too. There are so many people in our line of work, and I struggle to remember all the people that are loyal to me, let alone those loyal to the Santoros.

I’m a little startled that out of everyone in the room, Ewan is the one to speak first.

“How lovely to see you again, Chloe, dear,” he says in an extremely fake, cheery voice as he stands from his place on the sofa, and reaches out a hand for her.

Chloe freezes beside me, her gaze flicking between all the people in the room. She lets go of my arm, releasing a small sigh as she does, before stepping forward to shake his hand.

“It’s nice to see you too, Mr Caprillo. I wasn’t expecting you, so it’s good of you to join us.”

“Well, after hearing the news that the wedding was being delayed, I thought it was best to come in person to make sure everything is alright,” he states, his voice taking on an edge that I don’t appreciate.

His gaze flicks over to me, and it’s clear I’m not his favourite person. Naturally, that makes my cocky smirk grow.

“Everything is good, thanks for asking. I know you’ve mostly had dealings with my father, but as a formal introduction, I’m Marcus Morelli,” I state, sounding just as much of an arsehole as I intended to.

“I know who you are,” he snarls, looking down his nose at me.

“Clearly, you don’t. If you did, you’d know the right amount of respect to show me,” I reply, my voice taking on a dangerous edge.

Chloe places her hand on my arm, no doubt as a warning, and Miles takes a step closer to me, always having my back. The older man wrinkles his nose, looking murderous, and that makes me smile even more.

Scott clearly has a higher sense of self-preservation, as he quickly stands. “Marcus, let me formally introduce you. This is my father, Ewan Caprillo.”

Though he’s addressing me, he’s giving his father a pointed stare, motioning with his head for the man to offer me his hand.

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