Page 98 of Vicious Heir

I stare like I don’t really know what she’s talking about. “Grandmother is here? Helena Willing-Morris just walked through the front door?”

“Yes, dear.”

“She’s in our sitting room?”

“Yes, right now. Do you want me to bring in tea?” Donatella fusses slightly. We’ve spoken about my complicated relationship with my grandmother on and off a little over the past couple of weeks. She’s likely aware of the shock I’m feeling.

“No, no, I mean, yes, please bring in tea.” I hurry to the nearest mirror and start adjusting my appearance. I’m in an old t-shirt and a pair of sweats. It’s the sort of outfit I never would’ve worn around my grandmother back when I was living at home. But ever since coming here, I’ve started to put on whatever I want, whenever I want to wear it because it’s my life. I get to make my own choices.

Now though, I can hear Grandmother in my head.A lady must always be prepared for company, Lucille. Change out of that ratty little outfit, please.

I almost do it too. I’ve been conditioned for so long to believe that my grandmother knows best for everything, but she doesn’t run my life anymore. She sold me to Adriano—the only good choice she ever made, honestly—and now I can make my owndecisions. Even about something as inconsequential as what I like to wear.

With my head held high, I walk into the sitting room.

Grandmother is perched on the edge of the couch, scowling at the coffee table. Donatella already brought in the tea and poured two steaming cups. Little pink cookies are arranged on a cute china plate. They’re delicious, but there’s no way Helena Willing-Morris is ever going to touch them.

She looks over sharply when I shut the door behind me.

“Hello, Grandmother.” I walk over to greet her. I sink down onto the couch and primly kiss her cheek. “This is a surprise.”

“Lucille, hello.” She frowns, leaning back to inspect me. “Did you do something different with your hair?”

“No, Grandmother. It’s exactly the same.”

“Ah, yes. I suppose that’s true.” Her frown deepens. “Are you experimenting with your makeup? Or perhaps a new wardrobe?”

I push back on my frustration and plaster a smile on my face. “I assume you didn’t come all this way to criticize my clothing choices.”

She scoffs lightly and waves a hand. “No, I most certainly did not.” She reaches down and picks up a cup. I leave mine where it is, which is against protocol.A good lady drinks when her guest drinks; it’s only polite. “I’m here to discuss your husband.”

That’s a surprise. It’s my turn to lean back and narrow my eyes. “Why would he be any of your concern?”

“Because he is making my life extremely difficult.”

I bark out a laugh. I can’t help myself. The idea is so absurd that this has to be some kind of sick joke. But if there’s anything I can be sure of in this world, it’s that Grandmother doesnotdo humor.

“How is Adriano makingyourlife harder, Grandmother?”

She smooths her skirt, scowling openly now. “Have you heard what he’s been doing? That reckless fool. This whole city hates him now, do you know that? And by extension, they hate me. Can you imagine? Marrying my only granddaughter to that Italian criminal was bad enough, but now he’s marching around torching any goodwill we might’ve gained by allying ourselves with his family.”

“Slow down,” I say, standing from the couch. I pace away to give myself some distance from her, even though I know it isn’t polite.We sit still in the presence of company. “What does Adriano’s business have to do with you?”

She bristles, glaring at me. “He’s been destroying art. Can you imagine? Art! Of all things!”

“You’ve never cared about art a single day in your life, Grandmother.”

“Perhaps not, but Idocare about investments. He’s ruining millions of dollars every time he goes out and burns down a new warehouse. Insurance can only cover small pieces of that! All of society is in an uproar about this, Lucille, and they’re beginning to turn on me.”

I grind my jaw. I knew Adriano had been taking the fight to Demir, but I didn’t realize exactly how he’s been doing it.

But that makes sense. Demir and his organization deal in auctions and art authentication. They must keep hundreds of different pieces for various rich men and women all over the city, maybe even the whole country. The fastest way to strike back against Demir would be to go straight at the heart of his business.

It’s almost impressive, in a way.

“And how does this affect you?” I ask slowly.

“Because we are married to him, and everyone knows it’s him and his people responsible. Oh, don’t give me that look. Just because the police can’tproveit doesn’t mean we don’t know!”

---