6. Miles
6
MILES
“ D on’t worry about a thing. I told you I had it all worked out. All you need to do is keep recovering.” Checking myself out in the mirror over the dresser, I smirked at my reflection. “Your bills have been paid, and I wired an extra generous amount directly into your checking account. It’s the least I could do.”
The man currently overseeing the setup of my new offices sucked in what sounded like a pained breath on the other end of the call as if his broken ribs were bothering him. “Thanks, but did you have to hit me so hard? I could’ve played it up.”
“How did I know you would have made it look legitimate?” I asked. It seemed like a reasonable question.
“You hired me to get shit done for you,” he grumbled. “Not to get my ass kicked. You said I was only supposed to come on strong with the girl. Not that you were going to?—”
He was boring me. “At any rate, it’s over now,” I reminded him, raising my voice to cut his off. “And you are substantially better off than you were before. Thank you again for your assistance.”
“I only hope it was worth it,” he muttered, ending the call. Stupid prick, as if I did anything that wasn’t worthwhile.
I had gambled, and it had worked. I’d known Aria’s family and friend group would be no match for a little violent chivalry. Something told me there weren’t any fighters among them. At the most, they may have sparred at the gym, if that. Never had any of them engaged in a real brawl. They had no need to. There was always someone to do their fighting for them.
Everything was going according to plan. Even Aria, the original ice princess herself, had thawed considerably. There was none of that open hostility anymore, though I wouldn’t have called us close by any means. It was progress, which was all that mattered. She would be putty in my hands before much longer.
I could have taken her that night. Then and there on the bathroom vanity if I’d felt like it. She wouldn’t have put up a fight. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was how much I’d genuinely wanted to. Not out of spite or with her greedy asshole of a father in mind, but simply because she was beautiful and the sheer joy shining from that beautiful face once I’d parked the motorcycle had revealed more about her than a thousand words could. The same wild, unspeakable joy had torn through me during my first ride and left me feeling euphoric. Unstoppable.
For that brief moment, we were the same. After a lifetime spent feeling separate, less than, even ashamed, I was understood.
Yet before I could make a terrible mistake, she’d put a stop to everything. For once, her mistrust had served me well. When I decided to claim Aria’s fit young body, it would be on my terms, not the result of some foolish rush of hormones. I would make her want me. She would beg for my touch. Before long, she’d beg for my love as well.
Then, my stepfather and his lovely family would find out what it meant to suffer. What heartbreak and betrayal truly meant. I wouldn’t stop at Aria, either. She was merely the tip of the iceberg.
One step at a time, however. I couldn’t afford to jump ahead. Didn’t they always say the joy was in the journey rather than the destination? So far, I had gotten quite a bit of enjoyment out of toying with them. It had been nearly a week and a half since I’d first moved into the penthouse, and though I was still bored senseless by these dull people, the pleasure of gaining their trust and esteem was immeasurable.
I brushed a piece of lint away from my shoulder, and something about the nearly surreal softness of the cable knit sweater stirred up a memory. Mom had been so proud of the fine wool sweater she’d somehow gotten her hands on as a Christmas gift for me. Years later, I figured she’d found it at some donation center. There was no way she could have afforded anything so well-made.
Back then, at that age and place in my life, I could never have conceived of owning a soft, expensive sweater such as this but a closet full of them. It meant I could appreciate what I had. How could Aria or Valentina or anyone in their circle? Luxury, excess, it was all they had ever known. I could almost feel sorry for them when I thought about things that way.
But my empathy only stretched so far. I squared my shoulders and strode into the hall, following the sounds of voices in the kitchen.
“I’m just saying you need to have Ari send a stylist over with something fantastic.” I rounded the doorway as Valentina finished making her proclamation. She stood near the stove, munching a slice of cucumber while Evelyn plated a roast and Aria spooned browned, steaming potatoes into a bowl. I hadn’t expected them to be the ones doing the cooking. Didn’t they have a staff? I’d seen their housekeeper several times, so I knew Evelyn didn’t take all of the household work on her shoulders.
“Would you tell her, please?” Upon noticing me, Valentina gestured toward her mother with the uneaten bit of cucumber in her hand. “They’re having this big party for her nonprofit, and she needs to look like a queen. She deserves it too. But she doesn’t want to take advantage of a friendship or whatever by getting somebody we’ve literally known all of our lives to send a couple of gowns over for her to try on.”
Through all this, Aria pointedly avoided looking my way but laughed softly at her sister’s exasperation. “You changed your hair,” I realized, admiring her now amethyst locks from across the room. She wore them in lustrous waves over her shoulders and down her back.
Aria’s head snapped up, one hand touching her hair as if she was self-conscious. “I went to the salon today. It was time for something new.” Her eyes briefly met mine before darting away while she attempted to hide a pleased little smile by ducking her head.
I then realized Valentina was still waiting for me to back her up. “I have to agree,” I told Evelyn, reminding myself as I did how crucial it was to conceal my absolute loathing of the woman. There was no excuse for what she had done. She knew Magnus was married when she sank her claws into him. It took two to tango, certainly, and I would never have absolved Magnus from blame, but she played a part as well.
She laughed warmly, shaking her head. “How would that look?” she countered, setting the roast aside before going to the glass door refrigerator and pulling a large salad from inside. “The women we help can’t afford couture from Farrah Goldsmith.”
“It’s a special occasion. Thirty years, Mom.” There was obvious pride ringing in Aria's voice and shining in her blue eyes when she looked at her mother. I had never seen such plain hero worship up close. “Everybody expects you to look exquisite, and you know Ari would love to help.”
“I’ll think about it,” Evelyn murmured in a way that told me she was convinced. Her daughters had talked to her into it. All of her false modesty made me sick to my stomach. Yes, she had done good things for people who deserved it. But my mother had deserved it. She had deserved better than what life gave her at the hands of Evelyn Black.
“I’ve been salivating over the aroma of this roast.” Magnus’s booming voice preceded him, and soon he joined us in the kitchen. “Miles. I’m so glad you’re joining us tonight. It will be nice to have all three of you here at once.”
Aria’s jaw clenched as she passed on her way to the dining room. She was still determined to resent me, though something made her hide it better than she had before. Was it gratitude after the fight at the bar or because of the kiss she couldn’t resist? Either way, she hated me for it and likely hated herself for revealing her weakness the instant I touched her.
When I did have her, and I would, there was no doubt in my mind that it would help not to have to force myself to get it up. But it would be a job like any other. Another step along the path I had laid for myself. Which was why it could not come as the result of a rush of hormones. I needed to get a hold of myself before everything went to shit over a pair of great tits and a smart mouth I would love to fill with my cock.
“Let me help me with that.” I took the salad bowl for Evelyn, forcing a smile, chatting with Magnus about his interest in AI and what it could mean for the future. This, I could handle. Aside from my mother, we had business in common.
“I would love to get in on the work you’re doing.” He took his seat at the head of the table, spanning a long, formal dining room. It seemed wasteful, all that space for so few people, to say nothing of the fine china and crystal at each place setting, the heavy silk tablecloth and napkins embroidered with the letter M for Miller.
I had once dreamed of living life at this level. Now, all I saw was the waste in the way he chose to live.
“Could we not talk about business tonight?” Evelyn planted a soft kiss against her husband’s cheek before taking her seat at his right hand. Valentina sat at her right, leaving Aria to sit at Magnus’s left. I gladly took the chair beside her, pretending not to notice how she stiffened at my nearness.
“Seriously, Dad.” It was clear to me, at least, that she went out of her way to engage him while ignoring me. “Isn’t it bad enough you’ve been having all your little hushed phone calls in your study night and day? Now you have to bring it to the dinner table.” She shook her head, clicking her tongue.
Evelyn exchanged a glance with her husband before interjecting, “Now, you know it’s my prerogative to chide your dad over working too hard, Aria.”
“It’s a habit,” Magnus reminded his wife, chuckling. “I’ll try to behave myself.” The look they exchanged spoke volumes.
Volumes that were not lost upon their daughters. “Ugh.” Valentina dramatically rolled her eyes. “Do you two have to flirt in front of us? Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad you, like, still enjoy each other…”
“Can you not say it that way?” Aria asked, looking pained. “I know we’re adults, but yuck.” Their parents laughed, telling me they got a great deal of enjoyment out of embarrassing their daughters. Some things were universal, no matter how much wealth a person amassed.
Somehow, I managed to look pleasant between bites of succulent roast beef. Evelyn could cook. I could give her that much. What a shame the juicy meat soured in my mouth as the happy couple gazed lovingly at each other.
That should have been my mother. I should have been at this table all these years. Instead, I was at the mercy of countless boyfriends, acquaintances, the men my mother gravitated toward in a desperate search for some semblance of normalcy and security. I couldn’t imagine the life she once lived here in this city, though she had gone out of her way to describe it so many times. How fast-paced and colorful it was—all of her many friends and the travels she was able to enjoy while working as a model. Childbirth had gone a long way toward putting an end to her career, yet another layer of guilt that I’d grappled with in my youth. She used to sit at night with a bottle of vodka and a large book filled with photos from her younger days. So beautiful, so young. So undeserving of the shit Magnus had heaped upon her.
My hand tightened around my knife while everyone continued their mindless chatter. These girls didn’t know what it meant to hold the hand of the only person they’ve ever loved as they took their final, painful breath after years of suffering. They couldn’t conceive of the pain of watching a parent deteriorate before their very eyes. The beautiful, spirited girl from those photo shoots may as well have been a ghost the way my mother now was.
“Excuse me.” It was the first thing I’d said since we sat. All eyes turned toward me, watching as I pushed my chair away from the table and stood. “I forgot to place a call to one of my advisors, and it can’t wait until tomorrow. I won’t be long.” It came out in a rush, punctuated by dropping my napkin onto the chair. I needed air. I needed quiet. My thoughts were spiraling, memories overlapping, bitterness gripping my very soul.
I headed straight for the balcony leading out from the front room and all but threw myself out there, taking one grateful gulp after another of air that had gone cold now that the sun had set. The city was coming alive beneath me, all those many floors below. Was this how God felt, if there was a god? Looking down over creation, observing the lights and the activity without being part of it?
I pulled out my phone, though not with the purpose of placing a call. I didn’t often pull up the private folder in my photo app, but it was at moments like this when a visual reminder of everything I’d lost came in handy. I had saved photos over the years, transferring them from one device to the next. It was the ones of my mother and me which I held most dear.
She was healthy once when her demons hadn’t yet taken hold of her. Smiling on Christmas Day, presenting me with a bicycle was the last good Christmas I could remember when she had a steady job. Everything had begun to unravel following that when she met the man who first enticed her to try a drug that would help her forget her worries. Little had she known, her worries would only explode after that point.
She never knew the kind of comfort, warmth, and love now surrounding me. Why couldn’t she have been happy? Why did every aspect of her life need to be a struggle?
“Promise me.” Fuck, her voice had been so weak by then, ravaged by years of heavy drinking, weakened by the drugs that had flowed throughout her body. All of the money I’d made wasn’t enough to save her. With the best hospitals and rehab centers and top doctors, the damage had already been done. “Promise me you will take care of yourself when I’m gone.”
Standing on that balcony with the wind stirring my hair and stinging my cheeks, I could almost feel her frail hand in mine. I could smell the hospice and hear the steady, incessant beeping of machines.
And in my head, I heard my vow, one I had been glad to make. “I promise I will, and I promise I am going to make them pay for ever hurting you. All of them. They are going to know what they’ve done, and they will regret it for the rest of their lives. I swear, Mom. I'm going to hurt them.”
Then she had smiled, and it had been so long since I had seen her smile. For the first time since she began to fall apart, she looked happy and at peace. I needed to believe she died that way.
“Hey. Are you okay out here?”
I scrambled to compose myself at the sound of Aria’s soft voice behind me. Of all times for her to come sneaking around. “Just wrapped up my call,” I announced over my shoulder, gazing out into the night.
It should have been me.
Her life should have been mine.
“I was running up to my room to grab a sweater, and I saw you out here. You looked…” Obviously, kindness was not her forte. It was like she had lost track of what she wanted to say, eventually going silent.
“I’m fine.”
She came closer, footsteps ringing out against the steel beneath our feet. “I got the feeling you were having a rough time back there in the dining room.”
“You’re very perceptive.” Shit, I couldn’t afford to let the bitterness leak out.
If anything, she seemed to appreciate that, laughing gently before reaching my side and gripping the iron railing running in front of us. “I hope everybody hasn’t come on too strong. You know what I mean. With Dad making this big deal about including you in the family and everybody trying to meet and learn about you, it must be a lot.”
Good. Let her think that was the problem. “You have a nice relationship with your parents,” I observed, staring outward rather than looking at her. There was no hope of concealing my rancor if I were looking her in the eye. She would see through me.
“I know I’m lucky. I know lots of people who don’t and never did. I don’t take it for granted.” That would probably be a first. I couldn’t imagine how she didn’t take her life for granted. It seemed an impossibility growing up this way, surrounded by priceless artwork and drinking from Baccarat crystal with an entire city laid out before her.
She stretched her arms to the sides, sighing and gripping the railing tighter. “It probably seems like we’ve had it easy,” she mused, almost as if she read my mind. “And I guess we have in so many ways. But Mom raised my sister and me a lot differently than other people our age in our circle. She grew up like a normal person. She went through… a lot,” she added, her voice cracking. “The sort of stuff she won’t even tell us. My Uncle Barrett has made vague references to it from time to time, and he’s always furious and bitter when he does. And usually kind of tipsy,” she added with a snicker.
“Alcohol does tend to loosen tongues,” I agreed. Hence, the fact that I’d greatly lessened my intake since moving in with the family.
“I’m sure you went through a lot. You worked your way up from nothing.” Was that genuine respect in her voice? Or did she feel sorry for me? “And now you can start fresh out here… with a new family.”
“Don’t pretend that doesn’t make you sick,” I warned.
Her laughter was soft, a note of wry understanding running beneath it. “I won’t.”
“I’m not going to forget her.”
“You shouldn’t forget her,” she replied. “Nobody would expect you to do that. She was your mom. She’ll always be your mom.”
Her empty reassurances left a bitter taste in my mouth. I swallowed it back, keen to take advantage of her sympathy. “I miss her,” I choked out and was rewarded by her sympathetic sigh.
“I’m sorry. I really am.”
The strangest thing happened. She touched my shoulder, her hand molding around the muscle, fingers pressing in. “But, you know, everybody around here likes you and wants you to be part of things. I’m pretty sure Lucian wants to get into a serious relationship with your motorcycle.”
I didn’t expect to laugh, much less loud and hard the way I did. Her unexpected comment was refreshing. She had a sense of humor under that prickly, bitchy veneer. “It’ll be a cold day in hell,” I told her, making her laugh again.
I took the risk of looking her way, finally meeting her gaze. Her eyes sparkled like sapphires in the lights from the countless skyscrapers surrounding us, emanating warmth that didn’t seem entirely forced. She offered a genuine if slightly awkward, smile. “Come on. Let’s go in and finish eating. Valentina swung by Baked and picked up their apple pie. It’s the best in the world, I swear. There won’t be any left if we don’t hurry.”
Something about the moment left me wanting to draw it out. We had crossed a threshold. Returning to the dining table would end the tentative closeness we’d achieved.
“Thank you.” I covered her hand with mine. “You have no idea how much it means. It’s kind of you to reach out.”
Her lashes fluttered, confusion passing over her face before she replied, “Sure. You’re welcome.”
It was a risk, but what was life without it? She flinched slightly but didn’t make a move to stop me as I opened my arms and slowly closed them around her. “Really,” I murmured as she returned the hug. “Hearing that from you means everything. For some reason, your acceptance is what matters most. Probably because I started us out on the wrong foot.”
“You sure as hell did.” But she laughed softly and loosened up a little.
It wasn’t bad holding her this way. The scent of berries lingered in her hair and tickled my nose when I turned my face closer to inhale the sweetness. It allowed me to loosen up as she had, to tighten my hold and savor the way her body fit against mine. “Why do you dye your hair so many different colors?” I asked.
She chuckled softly. “I don’t know. I’ve never found it easy to stand out, I guess. This is one way I can do it.” The poor girl had no idea how she stood out without trying and how her radiance, beauty, and sharp mind set her apart.
I couldn’t recall the last time I’d received a hug purely for the sake of comfort, and this one came from a girl who had all but vowed to hate me forever. There was something satisfying in it enough to make me want more.
When I pulled my head back, she did the same, leaving us gazing into each other’s eyes. Searching. Questioning. When her mouth parted, the sight of her tempting lips left me ready to abandon my plans and throw caution to the wind. One more kiss. What harm could it do?
“Uh… guys. Were you planning on coming back in at some point?” Valentina stood at the half-open door, wrapping her arms around herself when a stiff breeze blew past. “Everything okay?” she asked, regarding us almost warily.
“Everything‘s fine.” Aria wasted no time hurrying inside. Standing behind her, I caught the look her twin wore as she brushed past. The look someone wore when there would be a conversation later. One in which Aria would have to explain her change of heart, which would make her think about me long after we’d parted ways for the evening. The girl was officially off-balance when it came to me and her opinion thereof.
I ducked my head on my way inside to conceal the glee sizzling through me like lightning. So far, I’d managed to turn every situation to my advantage. I would have to seal my latest victory with a large slab of apple pie.
Though I doubted it would be any sweeter than the lips I’d come so close to tasting once again.
I needed to be more cautious. My attraction to her could not play a part in what had to be done. Otherwise, I’d do well to give up, and that wasn’t going to happen.