Page 75 of Wicked Union

“You’re alone?” Grandfather asks him. “Where is that dirty, filthy animal you call a brother?”

Bastian’s nostrils flare, and I have no idea which brother he’s talking about. Until tonight, I didn’t know I had a cousin. I was told I only had my grandfather and his charity.

“Damian is at home,” Bastian says with disdain as he crosses the room. “And he’s not any of those things you claim. You don’t know him.”

Grandfather rolls his eyes. “He’s not worth knowing.”

“Fitzy,” Bastian says to our grandfather as if he were one of the old man’s business partners. “Let’s cut the shit, shall we? I’m here because I want to start working at Atlantic Airlines. I’m old enough to learn the ropes.”

He plays with his gold cufflink and sighs. “You’re a child. An imbecile like your father. Like I would ever let you run that company. You would drive the stock price into the ground.”

I have no idea what they’re talking about. Grandfather uses words like stock, portfolio, and diversification all the time.

He doesn’t even let me leave the house to attend school. My education comes from private tutors. I like reading and writing, anything that gets me extra time in the library. It’s the only freedom I’m allowed.

As they turn to leave the room, I notice Bastian slip his hand inside my grandfather’s jacket pocket. Grandfather doesn’t see Bastian has taken an object from him.

It’s shiny.

Silver.

A key?

A shiver rushes down my arms. My grandfather will blame me. He holds me responsible for anything that goes wrong in this house.

He loses money.

It’s my fault.

He doesn’t like the food.

It’s my fault.

I follow them to the dining room and take my place at the table. Since we have a guest, I’m allowed to sit closer than usual.

Bastian takes the chair beside me. He has a warm smile and seems friendly, but I can see there’s a lot more to him. My cousin has guts and doesn’t put up with our grandfather’s attitude. He gives it back to him, and I wish I had the same nerve.

Midway through dinner, my grandfather receives an urgent call and leaves the room. I stuff my face because I don’t know when I’ll get to eat like this again. There’s enough food to feed a small city and only the three of us.

“Katarina, I need you to hold onto this for me,” Bastian whispers, opening his palm to reveal the key he stole. “It’s your birthright just as much as it is mine.” He opens my hand and curls my fingers around the cold metal. “Guard it with your life.”

“But it belongs to him,” I whisper, nerves shaking through me. “What if he finds it? He’ll kill me.”

“I only lived here for a month after my parents died,” Bastian says in a calm, low tone. “But I know what you’re going through. We even shared the same bedroom.”

There are at least twenty bedrooms in the house. How could he possibly know which one is mine?

Lowering his head, he says in a hushed tone, “There’s a loose floorboard in the right corner of your closet. Keep the key there until you get out of this godforsaken place. When we meet again, I’ll show you what to do with the key.”

“But why me?”

I hear my grandfather’s Berluti oxfords tap on the tiled floor in the hallway, coming closer to us. Bastian must hear him, too, because he speaks faster.

“One day, this key will buy your freedom. It’s the only thing that will keep you alive.” He kisses the top of my head. “I wish I could do more for you, Katarina. But this is the best I can do for now.”

Tears streamed down my face as I snapped back to reality.

Cole held me in his strong arms, cradling me like a baby. “What just happened? Where did you go, Grace?”

---