Chapter Fifteen
Something I should have predicted from a highly trained, action-force-secret-agent-man was the early as hell wake up time. You’d think on his day off, after a night of phenomenal sex, he’d be willing to sleep in.
No.
Aiden is up with the lark. Showering, teeth-scrubbing, coffee making.
Someone needs to teach him to slow down.
Is that me? Is that my job now? The irony of the thought is breathtaking.
I’ve been on the move my entire life, and only recently have I even tasted the peace that stillness can bring.
That clarity that comes from pacing myself and not worrying about the next task, other people, or everyone else’s problems.
The Vale and the inferiority complex it etches into your bones has always made me feel closer to Dax.
We’re the same like that. Both held down by our insecurities; our perceived worthlessness.
Yet, I’m just realising that Aiden and I have this constancy in common.
The dogged-relentlessness to keep moving—giving everything to the work, the task, the next thing driving us to move move move.
Where my responsibilities were a burden, I bore to keep my family safe, Aiden’s are his choice.
Was it about succeeding in his career for him, or did he consider this his life’s work?
Or perhaps he is more like me that I realise, and he’s doing all this to protect those he loves?
He described Dax as his home. Could it be as simple as that?
While Aiden tries, and fails, to cook quietly downstairs, I dive into the steam-filled shower and get ready for the day.
My clothes are grotty, but I’ve not much choice but to wear them with how unprepared I was to stay out for the night.
I scrub at the traces of Ben’s blood from the hem of my shirt. Was that only yesterday?
I’m not sure if I’m happy that hardly any time has passed or worried about how much crap seems to fit into each day.
Aiden’s smile is enough to snap me out of my thoughts. That, and his golden skin clad in only a fluffy white towel. Smooth swaths of muscle, front and back. A voluptuous swell of a round backside. God, even his ankles are glorious. How did I get so lucky?
His grin suggests he caught me looking. Can I blame my drool on sleep?
“Morning, Tiger! Did I wake you?”
I counter his question with my own. “Did you make me coffee?”
“I did.”
“Then I’m up at the perfect time. You, however, need more sleep.” I slide onto the barstool in front of my cup, wrapping my hands around the base and smiling at the warmth soaking into my fingers.
“There’s a farmers market over by the Marina this morning. I was going to grab a few things for today.”
“Sounds good. Do I have time to drink my coffee, or do I need a to-go cup?”
“I wasn’t going to wake you, but now you’re up, I’d love you to come.
Sit. Eat. There’s lots of time, and there’s something I need to give you.
Wait here a moment.” Aiden shoves two slices of toast at me and points to a whole lazy-Susan of jams, jellies, honey, peanut butter, hazelnut, and almond butter spreads.
I stick with plain butter and eat slowly, enjoying the way Aiden whips off the towel as he runs up the stairs. His perfectly muscular back and shoulders pale in comparison to the beautiful curvature of his behind.
Moments like this make all the other shit, not worthwhile exactly, but bearable.
Sweet coffee. Warm toast. Fuzzy feelings. Aiden bumping furniture and cursing up a storm as he rushes to get ready. I can’t wipe the smile off my face.
“What happened to ‘There’s lots of time’?” I shout up to the mezzanine.
His head pops over the half wall. “There is. I’m just impatient.
Almost ready. Hang on.” He disappears again then emerges with a T-shirt in hand.
He tugs it over his head and then vanishes from view again.
After a few minutes more of drawer slamming and mumbling, he appears at the top of the stairs and lifts his hand, waving a large white envelope in the air.
“Found it. Forgot I’d left it in my blazer pocket.
Here, this is for you.” Aiden hands me the envelope as soon as he descends.
At the top, printed in silver, are the words Harrison City Bank.
I take it and flick open the flap. A booklet, a letter, and a small multicoloured card rest inside.
I take out the card. The bank’s logo dominates the left side of the card.
Underneath in embossed print is my name and an account number I don’t recognise. “A bank card?”
“Yeah. We figured it was time we arranged access to your money. I was at the bank when we received your message from the hospital.”
“I don’t understand. My money is at the apartment. In cash.”
“Yes, well, that’s not all the money you have.”
“What have you two done?”
“Actually, this was all you. With the change of university comes a scholarship. There’s not much in there, just enough for this semester. It usually covers accommodation, books, travel, and small living expenses, but because you’re mostly done…well, it’s massively reduced.”
“A scholarship? But I didn’t apply for—”
“You qualified for it. Like I said, this isn’t on us,” he says, and I raise my brows.
“Well, okay, we might have requested you be considered.” His noncommittal shrug makes me laugh and shake my head.
“The online banking packet is somewhere in there,” he adds, pointing to the pile of paperwork.
“You can download the app and see what you’ve got.
The scholarship details will be on your HU account.
“Thank you. You didn’t have to.”
Aiden waves me off. “There’s something else you should know.”
“Ooh kay…”
“So, Carlo sold the bar to Trevainne, right?” His question is cagey. He’s hovering nervously and that’s never a good thing.
I answer slowly. “Yeah?”
“Well, to be specific, he sold the property to Trevainne. Not the business…exactly.”
“I don’t understand.”
Aiden lands on the stool beside me with a thump. “Sorry, Dax would be better at explaining this, but, well, he’s an arsehole, and he’s not here.”
I cut back to the topic at hand. Is something wrong with Carlo’s deal? Have they cheated him out of money? They wouldn’t do that right?
“What do you mean by not exactly?”
“Dax offered Carlo a compromise rather than lose his business entirely. The land and building now belong to Trevainne, and the money from that went to setting up their new life.” I nod. That part I already knew.
“The bar, however, is a business external to its lodgings.”
I guess that makes sense. “Yeah. So?”
“Well, Dax bought into the business, using his personal funds to buy a majority stake.”
“So, Dax owns the bar?” Still not seeing a problem here.
Aiden tries to clarify. “On paper. Dax’s name is now on everything as the primary working partner. Carlo retained a smaller, sleeping-partner share, which pays out profit into an account.”
“So, it continues to make him money. That’s good, right?”
“Yes and no. It continues to make you money. Carlo left it to you.”
My head explodes. At least, it might as well have because I can’t fucking think. How? Why? Aiden must see my confusion because he charges ahead, unaware that I’m barely taking anything in.
“Carlo signed it over to you. The money Dax offered for the buy-in was enough to create a nest egg for them. The contract also allows Carlo the right to buy Dax’s shares back should they choose to return when Dax gives them the all clear.
We’re, basically, guardians until Carlo decides otherwise.
The proportion that remained…” Aiden sucks in a breath.
“He asked us to put it in your name. I think it was his way of looking out for you.”
“I own a portion of Carlito’s?”
“Yes. You don’t have to do anything. Dax installed a manager to handle everything and kept the original staff so that little changed. This just means that Franz can’t touch the property, and as a bonus you make a little extra cash each quarter.”
“I had no idea…”
“Yeah. It was something we wanted to tell you once all the legal paperwork went through. We got the call yesterday, and I set up your business account. When you log in, you’ll see it alongside your primary account.
You’ll be able to shift funds from the business account easily or use it to pay off cards or whatever the hell you like.
It’s your money. I’m not going to lecture you on how you spend it. ” Aiden grins.
“Shit. Do I owe taxes now?”
“Technically yes, but that’s taken care of. There’s a whole thing about profit share and earnings that I don’t understand, but your accountant will extract taxes before you even see the money hit your account.”
Wait. What? “I have an accountant?”
“We have an accountant, Tiger. You’re one of us now.”
“Holy shit.”
“Sorry. Too much? I just wanted you to have your bank card before we went shopping.”
“I uhhh…” I stare at the envelope. I have questions. How can I access it? How is it paid in? How long does it need to last? How much do I have? In the end, I don’t ask, Aiden just reads me as always.
“In there. The banking app has a personal QR code. Scan it with your phone and follow the details on the screen.”
I do as he says, creating a secure login. When I’m finally set up, I see two accounts. The first has eight hundred pounds, and the second, the one named MaxwellGirardLLP, has six thousand. I point at it and show Aiden.
“Is this correct?”
“Must be. It’s a little low, but Dax was saying Carlo had slacked in recent months with all the secret meetings between him and…uh.”
“My mother. You don’t have to shy away from the fact.” I smile gently, appreciating that he cared enough to protect me. “So that’s…I mean…there’s a chance it’ll be more next quarter?”
“Absolutely. Though I can’t give you an estimate now that the business pays rent to Trevainne and stuff. Just think of that as your minimum, and everything else as a bonus.”
Six thousand minimum every three months.
Two thousand per month to live on, not including the money from the scholarship, which I can’t include if I plan on finishing early.
That’s…that’s really good. No food, no bills, no diapers, no rent.
Yeah, I’ll need to take some responsibility while staying at the compound, though I doubt they’ll let me, I’d at least like to offer to pay my way now that I can.
“Thank you. I’d like to have a chat with you and Dax about it when we get back to the compound, but for now, thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Just promise me you’ll christen that card today.”
“Done.”
“Well, damn, you made that easy. I have a handful of bribes ready for you.”
“Did they involve christening this apartment?”
“Maybe.”
“Then they’re not bribes, they’re promises. Let’s go. The sooner we get done, the sooner we get back.”
“Eager, Tiger? Sign that. Memorise your PIN. I’ll grab our bags.”
I pull out the relevant paperwork and read up on how to activate the card.
I check out my PIN and then change it to something more memorable via the app, filtering a security call that comes in the second I make the request. While the bank representative is giving me the welcome speech, I absentmindedly jot my details onto the envelope in front of me, but Aiden darts over and scribbles them out, replacing them with my alternative identity.
My real identity. I stare down at the envelope and Aiden’s scruffy scrawl.
Juliet Marie Feelan Joslyn Elanor Girard
August 30th November 28th
120 Olive Tower Trevainne Estate
The Vale The Heights
Harrison HV3 19OT H01 001
I feel unprepared for questions, but how many people can’t answer questions about who they are? It hadn’t been a problem until now.
Though why does it have to be a problem? A smile is just a frown upside down, right, Nana?
I’m looking at this in the wrong way. This isn’t a crisis of identity; it’s the clean start I’ve always wanted. No longer a reminder of the lies I was told, it’s now a declaration of my truth. All I have to do is embrace it.