Chapter Sixty-Three
Silas
If the picture dictionary had an entry for “nepo baby,” it’d show Cesar Platcher’s face.
The man I have the misfortune of calling cousin has zero talent but boundless ambition.
In spite of that, he holds a largely ceremonial position as a VP of marketing at Platcher Cosmetics since it’d look bad if he had nothing at all.
It was something Mom decided would be expedient—to keep him out of trouble.
I think it’s really to ensure he stays out of her hair.
Words come out of his mouth as he continues with his new ad campaign presentation. My head starts to throb at all the mistakes he’s making. What have I done to deserve the cruel and unusual punishment of working with this idiot?
Suddenly the door bangs open and a small girl in a pastel pink dress bursts inside. A couple of assistants run in after her.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” my assistant Flo says, panting. “But she’s too quick.”
“Daddy!” the child yells.
I blink, taking in the kid’s long black hair, dark brown eyes and golden skin. I look around the room at the other executives, who stare back in confusion. Their eyes shift between me and the girl.
She dashes in my direction, then wraps her skinny arms around my leg. “Daddy!” she shouts again.
My mind goes blank. “What?” Did she just call me—?
“Daddy!” She stares up at me. Anxiety and something I can’t put my finger on flit over her face. “You’re my daddy!”
——