Page 20 of So Close

Is it the love burrowed like a thorned root into my very soul that conjures you into this fantastical existence I’m exploring?

Opening the next door divulges a room choked with the smells of paint. From the threshold, I note the tarps and ladders, the buckets and rollers. The blindingly white walls will be a deep sapphire when finished. Its incomplete state confuses me. Why would I create an unfinished space if this is a flight of fancy? What do I intend to do with it?

I pass the home gym without pausing but feel like I’ve finally found you when I enter your office. There is color here and living things. The desk’s charred finish brings in the darkness from the rest of the penthouse, but that is the only piece that might blend in elsewhere. The side chairs are upholstered in warm cognac leather, while russet velvet covers a sofa with slender brass feet. I smile when I see the miniature basketball hoop hanging over the wastebasket.

Rounding your desk, I note that the lacquered knobs feature lilies. On the corner sits a framed photo of her. It’s a close-up shot of the wind whipping her hair across her face, her eyes laughing, her mouth curved in a wide smile. Even here, she haunts you.

I feel the chill of her breath against my nape, but I don’t dare turn around.

Perhaps I’m not the only one in the cage.

Perhaps the cage is hers, and you’re the one trapped inside it. With me.

17

ALIYAH

Over the rimof my martini glass, I surreptitiously study my middle son and his wife.

There’s a familiarity there that disturbs me. Darius and Amy usually sit close together but maintain an icy reserve. Today, he’s perched on the armrest beside her, his hip against her shoulder.

His arms are crossed, his handsome features expressing boredom. She looks somewhat sober, although she, too, has a martini. She’s wearing a sleeveless navy sheath dress of a respectable length made interesting by artfully, deliberately twisted shoulder straps. The darker color suits her better than the neutral palette she’s copied from me. Her long hair is loosely waved and draped over one shoulder.

Most would think she has class, but I know better. A sewer rat in Louboutin heels is still a sewer rat.

Ramin sits at the other end of the sofa, scrolling through his phone. His hair is too long, but not unattractively so, the dark waves falling into his eyes so that he repeatedly pushes them back. Unlike Darius, who sports a nicely tailored light gray suit, Ramin has shown up in dark jeans and a camouflage Henley.

My youngest, Rosana, wears a strapless romper that shows off her graceful arms and curvy legs. It’s one of the new capsule pieces we’ve designed in collaboration with the world’s biggest e-tailer. Nude-toned and sparkly, it sold out in minutes. She’s paired it with athletic shoes that haven’t yet been released to the public. The photos of her out and about in them today will drive pre-orders.

I taught her not to squander opportunities. Influence waxes then wanes. With collaborations such as ECRA+ – which she’s also presently wearing – and fashion, I hope to set her up to maintain her lifestyle moving forward. She’ll never be forced into reliance on any man for anything.

“Where the fuck is he?” Ramin asks. “I don’t have all day to sit here.”

“You don’t have to remind us that you’d rather be doing shit-all somewhere else. We know.” Darius stands and holds his hand out for Amy’s now-empty glass in a silent offer to refill it. He’s an enabler, my son, hoping to keep his wife codependent to save their marriage.

“Fuck you, brother.”

I’m as impatient as Ramin. There is something different about the penthouse now. While it looks exactly the same, the glass walls restrain frenetic energy, an expectancy on the verge of crescendo. We all feel it skittering up our spines, and the tension is maddening. Is it Kane’s dynamism, trapped here by his own choice to remain home? Is ithers?

Lily. A troubling presence, even unseen.

I’ve only talked to my eldest in video conferences over the past month. My fear that anything – or anyone – could be more valuable to my son than Baharan appears unfounded. He hasn’t missed a step at work. His wife’s precarious health hasn’t affected his ambition. Still, his withdrawal to the penthouse is concerning. The staff perform better when feeding off his energy.

Ice is rattling in the shaker when Kane enters the library dressed in a graphite-gray suit, white shirt and silver tie. His posture is perfect, his stride commanding. He takes over the room instantly, and those dark eyes – Paul’s – are impenetrable.

Kane is a hard man, emotionless and detached. His handsome face blends all of my and his father’s best features with none of our flaws. That combination of stunning physicality and reserve has always served us well. If I feel a pang of regret that I contributed to his brutal indifference, it’s only momentary. Baharan wouldn’t be what it’s on the verge of becoming without his heartless calculation.

Witte joins us on my son’s heels like a shadow.

The majordomo is tall and well-built beneath his uniform of white shirtsleeves, black vest and black trousers. His pure-white hair is thick and expertly razored into a high fade undercut, allowing for a voluminous backward sweep that emphasizes his height. His beard is more pepper than salt, and it’s exquisitely kept. There are teasing hints of flexing muscle as he moves, enticing a woman to imagine the fitness of the body beneath the provocatively proper clothes. He’s extremely attractive and very sexy.

But he’s come into the room without a beverage cart and makes no effort to serve anyone, so Kane has asked him to stand by solely for support. The notion of needing a servant’s reinforcement against his own family infuriates me.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Kane says without a hint of remorse, sinking into a studded leather wingback chair and facing the rest of us with studious ease.

“No, you’re not,” Ramin drawls, not even deigning to look up from his screen. “But now that you’re here let’s get on with it. What’s the big family emergency?”

“There’s no emergency. We now have a firm grasp on my wife’s situation, and it’s simpler to explain once, for everyone, rather than speaking to you all individually.”

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