Misfortune Cookie (The Ashworth Legacy Book 1)

by Casey Wyatt

  Table of Contents

  MISFORTUNE COOKIE

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  MISFORTUNE COOKIE

  CASEY WYATT

  SOUL MATE PUBLISHING

  New York

  MISFORTUNE COOKIE

  Copyright©2014

  CASEY WYATT

  Cover Design by Rae Monet, Inc.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

  Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Published in the United States of America by

  Soul Mate Publishing

  P.O. Box 24

  Macedon, New York, 14502

  ISBN-13: 978-1-61935-419-7

  www.SoulMatePublishing.com

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  For Sugar Jamison and Susannah Hardy,

  thank you for all the encouragement and support.

  Your friendship is one of the highlights of my life.

  Acknowledgements

  Radiance and I have a long, tumultuous history together. Hers was the first story I ever attempted to tell and I failed miserably. I had no idea what I was doing and the original draft was a mess. Frustrated, I put the story away but never forgot her. Eventually, I returned to Radiance’s world and started over because I couldn’t let her story sit under my bed forever.

  Much gratitude goes to my friends Lisa G. and Lisa S. for their honest opinions and endless patience.

  Many, many thanks to Sugar and Susannah for their loving feedback, gentle correction, and refusal to let me be a slacker.

  A big thank you goes to my editor, Debby Gilbert, who continues to enjoy my stories and to Rae Monet, who creates awesome, eye-catching covers!

  For my husband and sons, I love you! Thanks for putting up with me.

  Chapter 1

  He who bravely dares must sometimes risk a fall

  — fortune cookie

  If anyone ever shows up on your doorstop and promises you the world on a platter—walk away. No, better yet—run. Run as if your life depends on it. Slam the door, lock it, and then hide in a deep, dark closet.

  Whatever they promise: youth, power, money—it’s too good to be true. And there’s always nasty strings attached. Deals with the Devil never end well. Trust me. I’m an expert. I wish my ancestors had been a whole lot smarter or a lot less greedy.

  “Dumb ass,” I muttered to myself. Maybe if I were smarter, I wouldn’t be surrounded by the greedy unbearable vultures also known as my family. I should’ve taken my own damn advice and stayed home.

  Who was I kidding?

  It’s not like I had a real choice. Even in death, old Sebastian would have his way. I’d been summoned like the rest of the Ashworth lot. Family members I hadn’t seen since I was a child surfaced from the woodwork like industrious termites, each hoping for a piece of the fortune.

  Everyone, except my naïve cousin Reginald. He believed that Gramps would be leaving him the lion’s share of the Ashworth fortune.

  “Grandfather loved me best.” He leaned over and spoke into my ear for the fifth time. “I worked in his offices. I did all of his errands.”

  I stifled a yawn and pulled away, trying to distance myself as best I could from his hot breath. Not that Reg noticed. He continued to prattle on. “He told me I would be rewarded. That he hadn’t forgotten me.” The last bit came out tinged with a smidgen of uncertainty. As if he needed to convince himself that his delusions were true.

  When I failed to respond, he narrowed his eyes and took me in, as if realizing who he was speaking to for the first time. “Say, Radiance, why are you even here? Didn’t you break away from the old man? Some bit of scandal with you and a young French diplomat. Very embarrassing for your parents, if I recall.”

  In my mind, the entire affair had been blown way out of proportion. Artois and I had a brief fling that consisted mainly of epic bouts of sex. Because of my parents’ celebrity status, it became a huge deal in the press. Hunter and Artemis Ashworth didn’t give a rat’s ass what I did. By then, I was twenty and therefore not their responsibility anymore. It was my grandfather who took exception to the incident. Said I needed to be more discrete in my affairs. In my defense, I didn’t know Artois had been covertly recording our trysts. The only saving grace, the footage was grainy and my face was hidden.

  The family PR machine spun the story away with the assertion it hadn’t been me. Easy peasy. Behold the power of unbridled wealth. After a rare heart-to-heart with my father, where he intimated that Sebastian could make people disappear, I’d had an epiphany. More like a major wake-up call of epic proportion. Knowing that I could get away with anything scared the hell out of me. I did a one-eighty, enrolled in art school, and presto-chango, long story short, I became a moderately successful children’s book illustrator.

  No more parties. No more bad girl behavior. I was a normal citizen, happy to be out of the limelight.

  Reg wasn’t about to let it drop. “Still like to get Brazilian waxes?”

  My mouth hung open. He had watched the video? What a twisted freak!

  I opened my mouth, the words fuck off poised on my lips.

  “Reginald, don’t be such a bore.” My sister, Selene, squeezed into the remaining space on the couch. My adorable four-year-old niece, Grace, rested on her mother’s shoulder, sound asleep. “Our parents were addicts and totally useless. Not that it’s any of your business. Besides, what kind of sick fuck are you? If that had been Radiance on those tapes, you’d be watching your own first cousin.”

  I pursed my lips, suppressing a fist pump and hearty, Go Sis. I couldn’t do it. Not without feeling like a lying hypocrite. Even she didn’t know the truth. As the price for his help, Sebastian had insisted that I tell no one. With him, there was always a price.

  A cold, cruel smile played across Reginald’s lips. I’d heard women found his boyish face handsome. I think he looked like part of Hitler’s youth: tall, blond, blue-eyed, and Aryan all the way.

  “Selene, we’ll see what my
business is when I’ve inherited the family fortune,” he said with the same cool confidence of stuck-up jerks everywhere.

  Several of the cousins closest to him didn’t agree with his assessment. Angry comments bounced across the room, all aimed at Reg.

  I curled my arm around Selene’s shoulder and touched a lock of Grace’s copper curls. “Thanks, Sis. You always did know how to start a shit storm.”

  Selene shrugged her shoulders. “What can I say? It’s a gift.”

  I laughed and tweaked her nose like I did when we were kids. I’d do anything for Selene. She was my baby sister and we’d been through hell and back together. When her jerkwad husband left her homeless, pregnant, and broke, I was there for her and Grace, insisting they live with me. Selene had recently landed a six-figure job as a marketing executive at a top firm in Chicago. They’d moved away and my house felt empty without them.

  “Reg, you’re an asshole!”

  Similar insults echoed around the room. The catcalling intensified until it sounded like we were in a locker-room brawl. Selene covered Grace’s exposed ear. I hoped the rowdiness didn’t wake her up.

  “Pardon me!” A shrill whistle cut into the noise. “Excuse me.”

  The noise abruptly stopped. Silence blanketed the room. The walnut door in the rear of the library closed with a dull thud.

  “That’s better. All of you find a seat, please.” The man’s voice was rich, like honey. I craned my neck, searching until I found the source. And, hello, not one of Sebastian’s ancient, hunchbacked lackeys who’d served the family since dinosaurs walked the Earth. No, this attorney was tall, muscular, and robust. He strode through the room with the rolling gait of a predator. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of blue-tinted glasses. When his gaze landed on me, goose pimples rose, danced up my arms, and warm heat pooled in my belly.

  His full lips curled into a slow smile. Soon we’ll be together. The words whispered into my ears. Fingertips brushed across my neck, sending shivers down my spine. My nipples beaded, tight and hard. Lust coiled around me and my breath caught in my throat.

  What the hell?

  He smirked and moved away. When the delicious sensation faded, I wanted to whimper.

  “Did you feel that?” I asked Selene.

  “What?” Selene frowned. “You okay?”

  “Never mind,” I mumbled, heat warming my cheeks.

  Two briefcase locks snapped, ending the hiss of whispers circulating around the room. The lawyer pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose, then retrieved a thick stack of papers.

  Reginald crossed and uncrossed his legs, foot over knee twitching impatiently. “Get on with it already,” he grumbled.

  I thought, Yeah, have fun spending those imaginary millions. Sebastian had favorites like my cousin Tish, who headed his charitable foundation and hung on his every word. She was the likely choice. And if not her, there were others. No matter what Reg believed, from what I’d heard, he had never been part of the inner circle. He was nothing more than a glorified errand boy. All I knew for sure was it wouldn’t be me, the black sheep, inheriting.

  Electric tingles raised the hairs on the back of my neck. My gaze darted to the lawyer.

  He paused, shuffled the papers, and quirked an approving eyebrow at me so quickly, perhaps I’d imagined it. Besides there was no way he could have read my mind.

  My phone vibrated against my thigh. After a quick glance at the number, I angled the phone away from Reginald.

  I tapped the display and mouthed, “What?” at the screen. My ageless friend Julian’s regal visage appeared. I pressed my fingers to my lips so he’d know I wasn’t alone.

  He held up a piece of paper. Leave right now. He stood in a darkened room that I jokingly called his inner sanctum. A library almost as well stocked and blue heeled as my grandfather’s. The large fireplace behind him lay dark and silent. The wood on the walnut mantel, carved with exotic figures from mythology, gleamed from the glow of a nearby Tiffany lamp.

  I shook my head no. The conversation would have been so much easier if Julian could have texted me. Except, there were technical difficulties that prevented him from using a phone like everyone else. Julian knew as well as I did, I could not refuse to attend the reading of the will. Grandfather had made me promise him on his deathbed and I would grant him this one last wish.

  Not that I could blame Julian for his concern. He had been my companion since I was a child and he knew about Sebastian’s endless machinations. There wasn’t a time in my life that I could remember when Julian wasn’t there. He knew the ins and outs of my family better than anyone. Once the reading was over I’d find out why he was acting so strange.

  Reginald shifted next to me, but never took his eyes off the attorney. I finger-waved at the screen and ended the call before Julian could flash up another sign.

  After several more drawn out moments of watching the attorney rifling through papers, a thick vein pulsed at Reg’s temple. Face flushed red, fingers tapping his thigh, the guy was ready to combust. I thought I might have to restrain him before he lunged for the will declaring, “My precious.”

  A small smile played across the lawyer’s full lips. Taking in the measure of the room, he opened his mouth to speak—

  “Mommy! Why are we here?” Grace demanded, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

  Selene tried to shush Grace, but my niece wouldn’t hear of it. “Down, Mommy. I want to sit with Radiance.”

  The lawyer frowned at the interruption. Clearly a child hating jerk.

  I scooped her up in my arms and carried her to the row of windows overlooking the estate’s gardens. Her small body snugged into my arms, her little fingers playing with my hair.

  “Gracie,” I whispered. “Let’s play a game. Only no one can hear what we’re saying. Would you like that?”

  She nodded, a sweet strawberry scent rose from her hair. “Okay,” she whispered back.

  I glanced over at the lawyer. He nodded and addressed the room. I moved into an alcove and sat on a window seat with Grace on my lap. I could hear him explaining the proceedings, the sound muffled by the angle.

  Grace twisted around, her arms around my neck and peered out the window. Sunlight streamed into the windows, its warm rays highlighting the copper in her hair and accenting the light dusting of freckles on her nose. I inhaled more of the sweet aroma in her hair. I’d do anything for the little girl in my arms. My love for her pulsed through my veins as sure as my blood did.

  “Why—?”

  “Secret, indoor voice, remember?” I reminded.

  More softly, she said, “Why are we here?”

  “Grandfather wanted us all together. And you know he makes all the rules.” How could I explain death to a four-year-old? I didn’t know what Selene had told her, if anything.

  “Old Bassy. He’s dead now.” The solemn adult-like tone stopped my breath. No one called him Old Bassy except Julian. Before I could ask more, she pointed to the window.

  “What’s his name? That man in the garden?”

  “Oh, that’s probably the groundskeeper Mr. . . .” My throat constricted when my eyes caught up to who she was looking at. Julian stood underneath a willow tree, arms folded tightly, his back ramrod straight.

  “You see that man?” I hoped Grace couldn’t hear my heart jackhammering in my chest.

  “Yes.” Grace smiled, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. Maybe she was pulling my leg. She loved to play games.

  For my own sanity I had to be sure. “What does he look like?”

  “Tall. Long black hair, like yours.” Grace waved.

  Julian released his arms and raised his right hand in return, his gaze firmly locked on mine. Even from a distance, I could see the tension around his mouth, the narrow slant in his eyes. Why was he here? He
usually stayed near my house. Once, when I asked him why he no longer came into the mansion, he mumbled something about not being welcome anymore, then refused to elaborate further.

  “Why’s he all frowny, Auntie?” Grace touched my cheek, worry in her eyes. “Can’t he come in and join us?”

  I forced a smile so Grace wouldn’t see the panic raging inside me. She shouldn’t be able to see him because Julian was dead. He was the resident family ghost and, until that moment, no one could see him but me and Sebastian. With Sebastian dead, I didn’t like the implication. Julian abruptly disappeared. Cold tremors rippled across my skin. The room had gone silent again.

  Grace whispered in my ear, “Everyone is staring at you.”

  Disbelief colored some faces; others glared angrily. The lawyer, his face a neutral mask, waited with his hands folded.

  Reginald, with murder in his eyes, leapt off the couch, forefinger aimed at me like a shotgun. “You undeserving bitch! I spent years sucking up to the old man. Performing menial tasks like his servant. How dare he give it all to you!”

  Grace cowered against my shoulder, hiding her face against my neck. My mouth went dry, my breath caught in my throat. I must have heard that wrong. I had inherited the fortune?

  Not possible.

  Grandfather and I had been estranged for most of my adult years. Other than at his deathbed, I hadn’t seen him since my parents’ funeral years earlier.

  With a feral growl, Reginald lunged forward, hands out like claws. “That money should have been mine! I should be the heir!”

  I quickly put Grace down and stood in front of her, bracing for an attack.

  He didn’t make it two steps across the room before several of my male cousins tackled him to the ground. Reginald kicked and spat like an angry house cat before they dragged him from the room with the help of Sebastian’s household staff.