Chapter 9
Brody
After a night of shitty sleep, I went through my morning routine without enthusiasm. My father called before six a.m. Never a good sign.
I put him on speakerphone so he wouldn’t be shouting right in my ear.
“Brody,” he began, “Marjory says that Selena didn’t come home last night.”
Fuck. How’d she know that?
“Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed.”
“You hadn’t noticed? I told you that she was your responsibility. You need to keep her under control.”
“It’s not so easy to keep a tornado under control,” I muttered. “I think you’ve severely underestimated how difficult Selena is.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Be that as it may, her behavior reflects on us. She needs to be whipped into shape.”
God, his motivational speeches were straight out of the 1950s.
“And that’s your job.”
“You can’t flog a dead horse,” I told him.
He sighed, and I could picture him pinching the bridge of his nose.
“If you can’t keep one girl under control, how am I supposed to trust you with the business one day soon? It’s disappointing.”
Jesus, everything with my father came back to measuring my worthiness to inherit his empire. The single thing he cared about. Considering I’d dedicated my life to living up to his expectations, it wasn’t something I’d let slip through my fingers.
“I can do it. I’m just messing around,” I said.
“Are you sure?” he pressed.
Helping Selena to be less self-destructive was the last thing I wanted, but I also couldn’t have my father thinking I’d failed one of his tasks.
“Of course, there’s no problem. I’ll whip her into shape, just like you said,” I said confidently.
“I knew you could handle it. I look forward to hearing how you’re progressing. I don’t want my new wife feeling upset all the time that her daughter might embarrass her. It’s spoiling the honeymoon period.”
“Well, we can’t have that. I’ll make it happen.”
“See that you do.” Then he hung up.
I stared out the window, the gates open in the morning sun. Selena crept through them, furtive and jumpy. Like she thought she could sneak into this house, and no one would know she’d been out all night.
Letting Selena self-destruct clearly wasn’t going to fly. Not only would it piss my father off, but considering last night, I seemed to have an issue letting it happen. Interesting. Clearly, it was all because of Emily. My weakness, my heart. The last person, outside of Cal, I’d ever care about.
So, I’d adapt. All plans were flexible, after all.
I had a PI on speed dial, and he was good.
Very good. A quick call, and all the information I had on Marjory passed over, and that aspect of the plan would be in motion.
I didn’t need to watch Selena destroy herself.
There’d always been the chance that my father was willing to put up with more from a stepdaughter.
But a wife? That was a scandal he’d never allow.
With the PI digging for dirt on Marjory, that only left my father’s instructions.
What was it he had said? Whip her into shape? I could certainly try. Torturing the little menace with father-approved methods didn’t necessarily go against my final goal.
Getting rid of both Selena and her mother. It’d just make it more fun on the way.