Page 39 of Soul Mates: Hercules Valentine and I
I wipe his extra spit off my forehead and then show him the middle finger on the way out. Achilles roars with laughter. The kiss on the forehead isn’t just a kiss. It’s a sloppy mess.
“Really, bro,” I grumble and then stand up and get some paper towels to wipe his saliva off my forehead.
At least I feel better. I’m going to listen to Achilles and trust that he’ll handle Mom and Contessa. Usually, he comes through. I hope he will this time. I need him to.
Chapter Sixteen
Freedom Delayed
Paisley Grove
Max and I walk into the third-floor library and stop in the middle of the vast space. Tall windows usher in light muted by gray clouds, which casts its glow against old books that fill the floor-to-ceiling shelves lining each side of the room. Max asked me to take a farewell tour of the family home with him. This will be our last Thanksgiving dinner at the Carnegie Hill house. Since the dwelling isn’t equipped with the piping for advanced in-home sewer-treatment technology or smart walls that allow for easy, environmentally friendly temperature control, it’ll be torn down and rebuilt by the new landowners.
Max walks to the stacks and runs his hand across a row of books. “I bet you didn't know that Grandfather had a phobia—a paranoia.”
“Okay…” I say cautiously. His statement seemed to come out of the blue.
“He set out to be a pioneer of new technology. His ideas were lofty, rooted in imagination and possibility.” He stops at a particular book.
“Yes, he was an idealist,” I say, frowning while reading the title,The Count of Monte Cristo.
“Just because it hasn’t been discovered doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist,” Max says.
I grin nostalgically. “He used to say that a lot.”
Max slides the book off the shelf. “That was his theory about light.”
“Which was how I was able to create TRANSPORT.”
“Yes,” he says, shuffling through the pages of the classic novel. “Did you know that a week before Grandfather died, this house was ransacked?”
I cover my mouth with my palm and then remove it. “No, I didn’t. But I’m not surprised though. No one tells me anything.”
“I’m telling you now.”
“Yeah, but it happened ten years ago.”
“I understand your frustration, Paisley. I won’t be hiding anything from you from this point forward, starting with this.” He holds up the book.
“The Count of Monte Cristo?”
“When the house was ransacked, someone was searching for something.”
“Did they find what they were looking for?”
Max nods toward the two red leather chairs. “Let’s sit.”
It feels as if a big rock is sitting on top of my head and in my chest when we walk over and take our seats. Max starts with Grandpa’s early relationship with Hugo Valentine, Hercules’s grandfather. The Valentines made their wealth during the Gilded Age, a term coined in 1873 by the writers Mark Twain and Charles Dudley to mean glittering on the outside but corrupt beneath the surface. Max says that’s the best way to describe the dynasty of the Valentines, who had squandered the bulk of their wealth by the early 1990s. Only three factions of the family were able to keep their heads above water by the year 2000. The patriarch of the Valentine fortune left hundreds of controlling clauses and rules when it came to dispersion of the trust, along with morality clauses and advantages for marrying to keep the wealth in the family.
Max pauses to study my face. It’s as if he’s sending me an unspoken message. I keep my face neutral. I’ve heard about the Hercules Valentine and Contessa V. Briar wedding. Eden was the one who brought their nuptials to my attention. Even though she broke all ties with Nero, she used to keep up with news about him and his family. Just as I learned about Hercules and Contessa’s planned wedding on top of the Empire State Building, I also heard about the couple’s breakup. It was said that she broke up with him because he couldn’t stop cheating. However, other sources say that he broke it off without explanation. The rumor is Marigold Valentine, his mother, isn’t happy about the break and seeking a second match for her son. Treasure said it was written inTop Rag Mag.
“And what they say is gospel,” she added.
The more Max talks about the Valentines, the more I’m squirming in my seat, turning more impatient. It’s taken a long time to forget my passionate entanglement with Hercules. I really don’t need Max stoking an old flame.
I click my nails on the arms of my chair. “Okay, so why all the talk about the Valentines?”
“Because Hugo funded the early versions of TRANSPORT back when the software was just an inspiration. When Grandfather asked for time to finish the development, Hugo wouldn’t allow it.” Max smirks. “He wasn’t a believer.”
