Page 33 of Ruthless Legacy

I grin. “Hey Silver, that’s great, and I’m really that good.” Years of boxing training with my dad had paid off and I was a machine in the ring. Plus, I loved the adrenaline rush of a fight. I also loved the pain. It soaked through the numbness and the guilt from the accident and made me feel something.

“I’ve texted you the address. You okay getting here?”

“Yep,” I reply. Verity didn’t know it yet, but she was my lift there. “I’ll see you tonight.”

I step into the shower and look down at the red puckered skin from where those fuckers branded me. It’s still sore, but it’s healing, slowly. I am expected at the secret clubhouse tonight, but that would mean I might miss my slot in the ring. Part of me wanted to attend this ceremony whilst another part of me wanted to give it the finger and not turn up. I grin to myself. I have never been very good at taking orders.

I um and ah for about forty minutes on what to wear and I eventually settle on a purple skater dress and black ballet style pumps. It’s a bit girly for my taste, but I can’t see ripped jeans and a t-shirt being suitable for a formal dinner. I leave my face void of makeup apart from my signature burgundy lip, then I head to Kit’s room and knock on for him.

He opens his door wearing a pair of black trousers and a pale blue polo top. “Aww, look at you all smart and posh.”

He shoves me playfully and pulls his tongue out at me. “Look at you trying to look all sweet and demure.”

I arch a brow as we walk together down the stairs. “I am sweet and demure.”

Kit laughs. “As sweet as a sour patch kid.”

I grab his head in a headlock and ruffle up his hair. “I’ll give you sweet, you little shit.”

We’re both laughing and play fighting when the sound of someone clearing their throat pulls us from our silliness. A tall man, about six-foot-two, wearing a white shirt and navy trousers, stands in the doorway watching us. His hair is silver grey, and he has pale blue eyes just like those of our fathers. When I turn my face fully to look at him, he does a sharp intake of breath. Like he has seen a ghost.

“My lord. You are the image of Catherine.” He studies me intently with a wistful look on his face.

“Catherine?” I ask him curiously.

He nods his head and gestures to the painting on the wall above me on the staircase. “Your grandmother and my late wife. You are her double.”

“I wondered who she was.” I take a step towards him and offer out my hand. “Hi, I’m Eliza.”

He smiles as he looks at my outstretched hand before he leans in and kisses me on my cheek. “Welcome home Eliza, and you must be Kit.” He holds out his hand and Kit takes it and gives it a firm shake. “And you are the image of your father. Come on through and you can both tell me how you are settling in.”

When we enter the formal dining room, a tall slim woman with long blonde hair sits to the left of the head of the table with a glass of red wine in her hand. As I suspected, she’s at least twenty years younger than Wilbur. Opposite her sits a boy with dark hair and dark eyes, and a sun-kissed tan. He reminds me of the obnoxious guy from the original gossip girl. I have recently binge watched the whole series.

“Eliza, Kit, meet Alexis, my partner, and her son, Chester.”

“Lexi,” she corrects him with a tight smile. “Welcome to Hawk Bay. It’s so lovely to have you here.”

This brings a snigger from Chester. He rolls his eyes when she glowers across the table at him.

“Ignore Chester,” my grandfather says with an amiable smile. “We usually do.”

I chance a side glance at Kit; he is looking as weirded out as I am. Dysfunctional is a word that springs to mind.

I take a seat beside Chester, and Kit sits beside Alexis. “How do you like the house? I hope you both like your bedrooms. I had a hand in the design,” Alexis tells us both proudly.

“The bedrooms are great, thank you,” I reply, lying through my teeth.

“Yeah, I’m sure baby pink is really your colour.” I look up into the mocking deep blue eyes of Chester. My grandfather clears his throat and gives Chester a warning glare.

“How are you finding your new school?” Wilbur asks Kit, and my little brother’s face lights up in delight that he is showing an interest in him. He has missed having a real father figure in his life.

“It’s the best,” Kit replies. “The sports facilities are amazing.”

My Grandfather smiles, looking pleased. “Nothing but the best for the Alderman’s. And you Eliza?”

“Yeah, school is okay. I’ve made a friend, so she is helping me settle in.”

“Who?” Chester asks me, leaning back in his seat and eyeballing me over the table.

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