Chapter 4 Kai
KAI
Veronica’s dark hair is spread across my chest when I wake up.
The room is quiet. I glance at the clock on the nightstand. Ten thirty.
Dad and Donovan are probably three hours into their day already. They’ve always been morning people. I’ve always been the opposite.
Veronica stirs, her hand sliding across my stomach. “What time is it?”
“Late.” I brush her hair back from her face. “You should probably head out before the staff starts their rounds.”
She sits up, stretching like a cat. There’s no awkwardness or expectations. That’s what I like about her. She knows what this is and what it isn’t. “Last night was fun.”
“It usually is.” I grin at her. “Same time next week?”
“If you’re lucky.” She slips out of bed and starts gathering her clothes from where they got scattered across the floor. She’s done this enough times to know the routine. Quick kiss goodbye, then she’s gone, slipping out through the private hallway that connects my room to the staff wing.
The door clicks shut behind her, and I’m alone.
My chest feels tight. Not unusual lately, but annoying. I sit up slowly, waiting to see if it passes. It doesn’t.
I head to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face. The mirror shows my hair sticking up in every direction and shadows under my eyes that weren’t there a month ago. I look like I partied too hard. Which is true, but not in the way people think.
Back in my bedroom, I walk to the antique cabinet with dark wood and ornate carvings against the far wall. It’s been in the family for generations.
I press the hidden latch on the left side, and the false back panel pops open. Inside is a small space I’ve been using for years. Usually, for things I don’t want Dad or my brothers finding. Cash. Fake IDs from my wilder days. A burner phone.
And now, a prescription bottle I’ve been refilling under a fake name for the past six months.
I shake out two pills and swallow them dry. The tightness in my chest doesn’t ease immediately, but knowing I took them helps. I stash the bottle back in its hiding spot and close the panel.
Nobody needs to know. Especially not Dad, who would use it as proof that I’m not cut out for the dangerous side of the business.
I’m handling it. I’m fine.
I freshen up, throw on jeans and a thermal shirt, and head downstairs. The main dining room is empty, which means everyone has already eaten.
I grab coffee from the kitchen and find Mrs. Borris, our head cook, pulling fresh pastries from the oven.
“Morning, Kai,” she greets. “Your father was asking about you.”
“I’m sure he was.” I steal a croissant that’s still too hot to eat. “Did he look disappointed when I wasn’t at breakfast?”
“He looked like your father.” Which means yes. “He’s in his office with Donovan. Said to send you up when you surfaced.”
I take my coffee and head toward Dad’s office, already knowing what this conversation will be about.
His door is open. Dad sits behind his massive desk, Donovan in the chair across from him. They both look up when I walk in.
“Nice of you to join us,” Dad says. No real heat in it. He gave up on making me a morning person years ago.
“Missed me at breakfast?” I drop into the other chair and prop my feet on Dad’s desk. He doesn’t tell me to move them, which means he’s in a decent mood. “What’s the crisis?”
“The shipment we discussed.” Donovan slides a tablet across the desk toward me. “It arrived last night. Marco’s crew handled the initial transfer, but there’s a problem.”
I scan the report on the screen. Numbers, coordinates, names I recognize. Then I see it. “Three packages short.”
“Three packages worth two million.” Dad’s voice is calm, but I hear the steel underneath. “Marco says it’s not his crew. The supplier is blaming transport. Transport is blaming Marco.”
“And everyone’s lying.” I hand the tablet back to Donovan. “You want me to find out who?”
“I want you to fix it.” Dad leans back in his chair. “This supplier has been reliable for five years. If someone’s skimming, I need to know who and why. If it’s Marco’s crew, I need to know that too.”
This is what I do. What I’m good at. Donovan handles the legitimate business, the corporate acquisitions, and legal maneuvering. Dad oversees everything and makes the final calls. And me? I handle the problems that can’t be solved in boardrooms.
“I’ll make some calls.” I stand, running through my mental list of contacts. “Give me twenty-four hours.”
“Kai.” Dad’s voice stops me at the door. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
“When do I ever?” I flash him a grin.
“That’s what worries me.” But there’s affection in his tone. “And take your brother’s girlfriend skiing today. Donovan was supposed to, but he’ll be busy tracking the financial side of this mess.”
I blink. “Logan’s girlfriend?”
“Samantha.” Donovan doesn’t look up from his tablet. “Dad thinks we should make her feel welcome. Show her the estate. Since Logan’s doing a terrible job of it.”
I think about Samantha. Dark hair, sharp eyes, that burgundy dress at dinner. Logan doesn’t deserve her, but that’s not exactly news.
“Fine.” I head for the door. “I’ll play tour guide. But after I make those calls about the shipment.”
I spend the next few hours in my room, working my way through contacts who might know something about the missing packages. Marco swears his crew is clean. The transport company swears its drivers are reliable. The supplier swears they sent everything.
Everyone’s lying, or someone’s lying, and I need to figure out which.
By the time I’m done, I have three possible leads and a headache. I pop another pill from my hidden stash and head back downstairs.
I need a break. And I need to find Samantha and take her skiing like Dad asked.
Two birds, one stone.
I head downstairs and check the obvious place first—the library. I find her curled up in one of the oversized chairs by the window with a book in her lap. She’s not reading, though. Just staring out at the snow.
I knock lightly on the doorframe. “Hey.”
She jumps slightly, then relaxes when she sees it’s me. “Hey, you scared me.”
“I don’t think I have it in me to scare people.” I lean against the doorframe. “How’s your day going?”
She closes the book. “Logan’s been in meetings with your dad all day. I’ve been trying to stay out of the way.”
“Want to get out of here for a bit?” I ask. “The slopes are perfect today.”
She brightens immediately. “Really? I’d love that.”
“Go get changed. Meet me by the side entrance in twenty minutes?”
“Deal.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re bundled in ski gear and heading up the mountain on the private lift. The afternoon sun makes the snow sparkle, and the air is crisp and clean.
“Thanks for this,” Samantha says, watching the trees pass below us. “I was going stir-crazy in there.”
“I know the feeling.” I stretch my legs out. “Sometimes this place feels too big and too small at the same time.”
She laughs. “That’s exactly it.”
“Logan not keeping you entertained?” I keep my tone light.
“He’s busy. I get it.” But there’s something in her voice that says she doesn’t really get it. Or maybe she does and wishes she didn’t.
The lift reaches the top, and we slide into position at the edge of the run.
“You ready?” I ask.
“As I’ll ever be.”
She takes off down the slope, and I follow. She wasn’t lying about not being great.
Her form is decent but cautious, like she’s thinking too hard about every turn. But she’s also not terrible. She keeps her balance, adjusts when she needs to, and doesn’t panic when the slope gets steeper.
We make it to the bottom without any disasters. She’s laughing when she pulls to a stop, breathless and pink-cheeked.
“Not bad,” I say. “Want to go again?”
“Definitely.”
We spend a while going up and down the mountain. She gets better with each run, more confident. And she’s funny. Actually funny, not trying-to-be-funny. She makes jokes about Logan’s terrible taste in music and his obsession with his phone.
She asks me about growing up here, about what it’s like having Donovan and Dad always in business mode.
She’s easy to talk to. Natural. Not performing for me or trying to be someone she’s not.
I like it. Like her, maybe, which is a problem.
On our last run, she wipes out halfway down. Nothing serious, just a tumble that sends her sliding a few feet. I ski down to where she’s sitting in the snow, laughing at herself.
“You okay?” I offer her my hand.
“Just my pride.” She takes it, and I pull her up. She’s so close now that I notice how she catches her breath.
I should let go of her hand. I don’t.
“Thanks,” she says quietly.
“Anytime.”
We finish the run and head back to the lodge. She’s quiet on the walk back, and I wonder what she’s thinking.
We reach the main entrance, and she turns to me. “Thanks for today. I needed that. See you at dinner, Kai.”
I watch her walk toward the guest wing, and something shifts in my chest. Not the tightness from my condition. Something else entirely.
I’ve never cared about the women Logan dates. Never even noticed them beyond surface pleasantness. They come and go, and it doesn’t matter because none of them matter to him either.
But Samantha’s different. She’s sharp and funny and holding something back that makes me want to know what it is.
I head to my room and pull out my phone. I have calls to make about the missing shipment. But all I can think about is the way Samantha laughed in the snow.
This is going to be a problem.