Page 1 of The Brat Tamers

1

EPIPHANY

For the first time in months, I’m home, hiding from my ravenous fans, in desperate need of a few days away from the constant scrutiny my career places upon me. I told my legion of faithful followers that I was taking a couple of spa days and promised to update them as soon as I could with all the goodies I’m pampered with while at this ultra-reclusive locale.

Truth is, I’m not at a luxury spa or an ultra-reclusive locale. I’m hiding in my apartment on my father’s massive estate.

My father is rich. Not Elon Musk rich, but they go to some of the same parties. Last time I checked, Daddy Dearest squeaked into the top four hundred of Forbes’ richest men in America.

Yay for him.

He never remarried after my mother died, but he’s had plenty of women to keep his bed warm. Even though he’s a self-centered prick, I think he really loved my mother and was truly heartbroken when she died that dreary fall evening. That was over ten years ago. I was twelve. Slick roads plus a drunk driver equals a hollow shell of a man pretending to be a human being. He was successful before she died, but her absence left a hole he filled with corporate takeovers and billion-dollar mergers versus the care and welfare of his daughters.

I guess, in some ways, I’m not much better. By fourteen, I was modeling full time and by sixteen; I had my own million-dollar enterprise growing as a social media influencer.

My phone rings, which annoys the shit out of me because I told all of my assistants I was unreachable this weekend.

“Where are you?” My father’s voice is sharp and to the point. I’m half surprised he even knows my phone number, much less cares where I am.

“Hello, Walter.”

“Epi, I’m in no mood for your attitude. Where are you?”

Oh my, this must be serious. He’s not in the mood for a little friendly banter. I thought that was the way we showed love in this family.

“Not too far away. Why?”

“I need you to come home. Now.”

It’s only then that I noticed my father’s tone is off. “Why? What’s going on?”

He exhales a heavy sigh, and I think I hear the true weariness in his voice. “It’s your sister. I think someone has kidnapped her.”

I sit up with a start, knocking my iPad off my lounge chair and to the pool deck below. “What do you mean, you think?”

“I received a call and a demand for a ransom, but I haven’t seen her in a week or more, so I have no idea if this is real or not.”

“Have you called the police?”

“Of course, I’ve called the fucking police! I’m not a complete moron. Where are you?”

I roll my eyes and pick my iPad up from the ground. Now, that’s the father I barely know and sort of love. “At the pool—no more than two-hundred yards from the house.”

“Thank God you’re safe. Come to my office.”

Wow—genuine concern?

“I’m on my way.” I hang up my phone, only then truly digesting what he said.

Wait, Leti’s been kidnapped? Why?

How?

She doesn’t go anywhere!

She doesn’t do anything!

And outside of our father’s money, she doesn’t have anything.

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