Page 50 of The Passion

Forrest does the same, and I wrap him in a hug. “Thank you, love you.” I probably don’t say it enough to my brother, but I mean it.

“Yeah, yeah, love you too,” Forrest says as he pulls back, and we both move to sit again.

“Let’s do this before I change my mind,” Forrest says, looking at me, and then as he drops his head to look at his computer, he starts mumbling. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I, little brother. You are a such a fucking pain in the ass.”

He’s right. I am a pain in the ass! Regret will be the least of my problems if Felisha finds out, but I don’t care.

Ewan Kentwall, I’m coming for you!

You picked the wrong man to take on as an easy target.

Because if your daughter doesn’t burn you to the ground, then I certainly will.

Chapter Eleven

FELISHA

Idon’t know how long I’ve been asleep as I wake up to the familiar sound of the jet engines and the very faint vibration through my body.

Although a different model, this plane is very similar to mine, and the bed is just as comfy. Or maybe it’s just how tired I was.

Part of me is disappointed that I didn’t wake up in Flynn’s arms, but at least I know he isn’t far away. Not like he can leave when we are at forty-five thousand feet above the ground.

I should get up and find him, but I just want a moment to collect my thoughts. I don’t feel like I’ve had a chance to do that. On the flight to Australia, I was too distraught and just trying to hold it together until I could get to Flynn. I’m a strong woman, but I think finding out what I did a few days ago would break anyone.

I know I’ve asked for help, and I’m happy to accept it, but I don’t want to lose control of this. It’s my father and my company. I’m the one who has the most to lose here, so I need to be making the decisions.

I don’t know how to handle the situation of Flynn with my father or the general public. I’m not sure I can take the extra stress of the media storm that will happen if we step out as a couple after all the mayhem of the video. And my father, Christ, that will be just another reason for him to discredit me to the board, and then in private with just the two of us, he’ll tell me how trashy I am and such a disappointment.

I often think how amazing the brain is. Growing up I managed to convince myself that my father loved me. Ignored the clues and red flags to his toxic traits. And he was probably also conscious of his actions to camouflage them, knowing that he needed me to be around, as I was the only heir to the family fortune. Well, until he worked out how he was going to stop that fortune from coming to me. Still, as much as he has done to hurt me, try to ruin my reputation, and what he did to my mother, part of me still can’t let go and completely stop loving him. There will always be that little girl inside me that is clinging to hope that one day he will wake up and realize that he does love me. Even just a tiny twinge would be enough. I would grasp onto that sprinkling of crumbs he threw out, like someone who hadn’t eaten in days.

One thing I’m sure about right now is that Flynn and I have to keep this private, and we can’t be seen together. I have to continue to look like I hate him, and he has to continue to look like the playboy the world sees him to be. But I swear if he touches another woman more than just being polite, I will show my true colors. He thinks he has seen them, but not even close. I know I want both sides of the coin, to keep us hidden and play the game, but the flip side of not letting anyone near him either.

He isn’t going to like this one bit, but it’s the only way.

Finally standing and walking into the bathroom in the plane’s bedroom, I take one look at myself in the mirror and don’t recognize the woman before me.

I look like I’ve been to hell and back.

This has to stop now. I’m stronger than this.

And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let my father win.

Pulling my shoulders back, I stand up taller after using the toiletries that the flight attendant has kindly left out for me. The woman I see now in the same mirror is much more like the normal me.

Finally happy with looking half decent, I know it’s time to go out to talk to Flynn. He may at least be calmer and listen if it’s in front of Forrest. I don’t really know Forrest, but he seems like a decent man, and if he’s Flynn’s brother, then I trust him with all the awful things that my life seems to center around currently.

What I wasn’t expecting was to walk out to both men in their seats, reclined and sleeping soundly. It looks like I wasn’t the only one who struggled with lack of sleep last night. Not wanting to disturb them, I continue to walk through the cabin to where the galley is, and the two-cabin crew are standing talking. There are days like the ones in the last week I’ve had that make me look at them and how happy and stress-free they seem in their job.

“Oh, Ms. Cuthbertson, our apologies, we didn’t realize you were awake. Can we get you something to eat or drink? We can bring it to you if you want to take your seat,” Devlin, the crew member standing closest to me, says with a big smile on his face. Not a fake one, but a genuine happy one where he doesn’t seem to have a care in the world right now. I have forgotten what that feels like.

“No apology necessary. I didn’t want to wake the two walruses in the back who are competing for who can snore the loudest. Plus, I like to walk around a bit while I fly, good for the body and helps with jet lag.”

I couldn’t tell them that my body is probably going through hell right now being on my second long-distance flight in the last forty-eight hours. Although being flight attendants, theyprobably do this all the time, but their body would be used to it. I fly a lot, sometimes too much for work, but never this far. They are short flights across Europe or the United Kingdom. I’ve been to Australia once as a child, but that’s all, and I don’t really remember that flight. Knowing my mother, she probably gave me something to help me sleep so it was easier on me. Not that it was ever hard on a private jet. Let’s be honest, I had no idea how the other half lived until yesterday, and I don’t want to go back there. Call me a snob, I don’t care. I don’t ever look down on people, not like my father does, my mother brought me up better than that. But that doesn’t mean I want to give up my privileged place in life.

My father’s money and status might have dealt me this hand in life, but since the age of eighteen, I have worked extremely hard to grow my own wealth and the family business. So, if anything, the value of the business today is due to my father’s and my equal efforts, and I at least should be entitled to half of it. That’s the stupid part of this whole shit storm. I never wanted to cut my father out of the business side. I would have happily taken control and had him right by my side and continued to work together.

But now, the moment I take the role as CEO and owner of Kentwall Estates, I will happily have him escorted from the building and block his access from all computer and security levels across the whole business. Meaning if he wants to stay in one of our hotels, the bastard can pay like every other person.

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