Page 42 of Live To Tell

“Do you mean your father will sign all business assets to you now that you’re eighteen?” I frown. “Everything?”

“Yeah. Supposedly, he’ll train me and work in the background, but Dad wants me as the new ‘face of the business’.” A guy beside him whispers and Kai chuckles. “Maybe I’ll sell the place and piss off somewhere.”

“I’m sure your father will include a clause preventing you from doing that,” I say.

“I’m gonna piss off somewhere anyway.” He slides his eyes to the door Rick walked through. “I’m not dumb. My father upset witches and there’s a vampire sorting his legal shit. Someone tried to kill me. You reckon I’m hanging around? The only thing I’d sign is to take my name off everything to do with the factory and escape this bullshit.”

That may be the most intelligent sentence I’ve heard from this human, but would Kai remain safe if he did?

And a vampire overseeing the legal aspect? Surely Josef isn’t still Sawyer’s attorney.

“How interesting,” I say. “Your father will present legal documents pertaining to your inheritance of the business on your eighteenth birthday. Are others aware?”

He shrugs. “Only those who need to, whatever that means.”

“Sawyer kept this very quiet,” says Rowan in a low voice.

I tap my lips and study Kai, particularly where his shirt’s unbuttoned. “Where’s your necklace?”

“Uh. You ripped that off in the factory so you could use your magic on me.” He taps the side of his head. “Everything’s making sense now. Family tradition, my arse—that necklace was for protection.”

“As I informed you.” I gesture. “Now, you’ve no protection.”

“Apart from him?” he mutters, lips thin as the door opens heralding Rick with another beer.

A woman accompanies him, elegant in her gold silk dress that sweeps the floor. Gems and diamonds the size she’s wearing in her ears and around her wrists shout wealth and her unlined face suggests vamp—or cosmetic enhancements. Sleek brown hair falls halfway down her back, mercilessly straightened, not a hair daring to move from its place.

“Kai, sweetheart!”

“Great, now my mother’s here,” he mumbles.

Cosmetic, then. Or perhaps a spell? No. Kai’s mother definitely isn’t a witch, a possibility I’ve toyed with that’s dashed now that I’ve seen her.

She takes a step towards him, the slender woman’s height enhanced further by that of the spike-heeled shoes she’s wearing. The gold pumps could work as a weapon if she finds herself in a tight spot. Is Mrs. Sawyer expecting trouble?

“Oh! You must be Violet!” The woman pauses and to my horror she walks forwards with her arms outstretched. “I owe you more than you can imagine.”

Is she trying to take my hands? I tuck them beneath my arms. “Owe? You’ve no debt to me.”

“I do—my darling son!” She clasps a hand against her heart. “If it weren’t for you and your friends, Kai wouldn’t be here.”

“If it weren’t for your husband’s dubious dealings with witches, Kai wouldn’t be under threat,” I reply, on the verge of mentioning the runes from her bedroom.

I believe she’s attempting to frown at me—hard to tell. “Christopher does not involve himself in ‘dubious’ behavior. He stands for honesty and integrity.”

“Uh huh,” says Rowan beneath his breath.

“Why do you think witches wanted to kill your son, Mrs. Sawyer?” I ask bluntly.

She regards me for a moment, then turns away. “Kai, darling. Your father wants to see you alone.”

“What for?” he asks suspiciously and takes his fresh bottle from Rick.

Mrs. Sawyer pouts and reaches out for the drink. “I do hope you’re not drinking a lot this evening. Your father won’t be happy if you embarrass him. After the DUI, you’re not supposed to drink in public.”

“It’s my fucking birthday and legal now!” he snaps.

Now, I’m known for back chatting Dorian often but never with disrespectful language like his. Mrs. Sawyer’s cheeks flush. “Do not speak to me like that, Kai,” she says coldly.

---