Worth Everything: Worth It, Book 4

by Karen Erickson

  “You resemble Hunter,” Alex said after a long pause. “I see it in the shape of your face.”

  She remained silent, her gaze flicking in Hunter’s direction, but she couldn’t get a good read since all she saw was his profile. “It is a pleasure to meet you. All three of you,” she said, casting her gaze about the table.

  “It’s good to see you again, Anastasia,” Rhett said, his voice friendly, his expression open.

  Hunter glared, jabbed Rhett in the side with his elbow. “Have you taken a DNA test yet?”

  “Jesus, Hunter, do you always have to be such a jackass?” Rhett asked under his breath.

  “Silence. Both of you,” Alex demanded, as if talking to his dogs. Funnily enough, it worked. “I was informed by Gavin that you went and took a DNA test two days ago. Is that correct?”

  “It is. I should have the results by late next week, hopefully.”

  “I took a DNA test yesterday.” Alex paused. “What are you going to do if the results are negative?”

  She was shocked he would ask. “Well, I figure you care more if they’re positive, so if the results are negative, isn’t that really none of your business?”

  An almost-smile curled Alex’s lips. “It’s our business if the results aren’t clear enough and we still have questions.”

  “I don’t think we should discuss anything until we know for sure if she’s related to us or not,” Hunter said, his irritation clear.

  “I agree,” Alex said quietly, his gaze roving over her face, as if memorizing her features. “But the more I look at her, the more I think she looks like you, Hunter.”

  Hunter scoffed. “I don’t see the resemblance.”

  “I do,” Rhett piped up, his gaze now trained on her as well. “She looks like Dad.”

  Her heart hurt at the simple statement. She’d never admitted it her entire life, but she’d always thought she looked so different compared to her brothers. Whereas their hair was dark as midnight, their skin olive-hued, their Italian features strong and swarthy, and they all had the prominent Renaldi nose. She didn’t, though. Stasia always figured she inherited her features from her mother.

  But deep down inside, she knew she didn’t resemble her mother either. When she looked at family portraits, she felt like the single outsider. The anomaly with the pale skin and blue eyes. No one in the family had blue eyes. Not a one of them.

  Every single Worth staring at her at this very moment did.

  “You do look like our father,” Alex said. “The resemblance is most definitely there. But I’m reserving further judgment until the DNA results are in.”

  Of course. They couldn’t take her word on it or accept her features as gospel truth either. She knew this and couldn’t blame them, had prepared for it from the moment this meeting had been confirmed.

  It still hurt, though, Alex’s words. And he was being nothing but professional. Polite.

  “This is such bullshit. Why are we wasting time talking to her and the lawyer? We’re probably just giving them fodder they can use against us when they take us to court anyway,” Hunter said.

  “I have no plans to take you to court,” she started, but he cut her off with a sneer.

  “Save it.” Hunter held up a hand, dismissing her with a finger wave. “We know why you’re here. You get cut off from Renaldi, so now you’re sniffing around, looking for another inheritance to put into your bank account.”

  She gasped, shocked at his accusation. “You don’t know me. How dare you pass judgment on me?” Gavin rested a hand on her forearm, most likely a warning for her to be quiet but she ignored it.

  “It’s a sordid little story, you have to admit. I’m surprised the media hasn’t made a bigger deal of it and continuously splashed the lurid details all over the tabloids, but I assume they have bigger fish to fry.” Hunter shrugged, his shoulders straining the fine fabric of his charcoal gray suit. “We’re lucky in that regard, unless you plan on leaking more information and making us look like complete assholes.”

  Another gasp left her, this one louder. “Do you really think that low of me?”

  “Sweetheart, that would be an affirmative.” Hunter leaned across the table, his hard gaze meeting hers. “Don’t think you can just waltz in here and make all it’s-happy-family-time with us. I’m on to your game. I know what you really want.”

  “All I—I want is a sense of place. I want to get to know you all as my brothers. As my family.” She hated that he made her falter over her words, that he intimidated her so. She hadn’t expected the anger, the outright hostility.

  “Give me a break. You really want a piece of the Worth fortune. And guess what?” When she didn’t answer quickly enough, he grinned, looking like a shark out for the kill. “You’re not getting a fucking dime of it.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Takeout Chinese food was the cure-all for life’s problems. At least, that’s what Gavin had believed from the time he was a child and wishing he had a normal upbringing. His had been anything but normal, what with a father who ditched them before Gavin could remember him and a mother who wasn’t one to stick to a decent job for any normal length of time. That meant money was always tight. They’d moved a lot, from one shithole to another, and he started hanging out with the worst sort of kids, not that his mother ever cared what he was doing.

  But when she was feeling low or having a bad day, his mom would bring home Chinese takeout, and for a little while, both of them could pretend everything was all right. Those nights with his mom had given him a flicker of hope. Made him realize that maybe everything would be all right someday.

  She’d had such plans for him. That he would go on and do something great with his life and take care of her. They’d usually laugh, him muttering a sarcastic yeah, right, but secretly, he’d wanted to take care of her. Provide her with everything she’d never had.

  Too bad she passed away before she saw him graduate law school. He knew she would be proud. Would’ve probably bragged to all her friends what a big-shot lawyer her son was. Her death had been a shock, a massive heart attack at the age of thirty-nine. He knew she’d died of anxious worry. They’d never had enough money to cover anything. He’d suffered with threadbare, too-small clothes, worn out shoes, and sometimes on rare occasions, no food to eat.

  It had been a tough life. He’d been a tough kid with a tremendous chip on his shoulder too. He’d hated pretty much everyone. Had an issue with authority figures. Was flippant, defiant, a juvenile delinquent with a penchant for finding trouble and a frequent drug user.

  All before the age of eighteen.

  That had been his saving grace—getting all that out of his system, so to speak, prior to becoming of legal age. He’d met a man, an older retired guy who moved into their building. A man who had no problems telling him he was a disrespectful asshole troublemaker who was driving his mother to an early grave.

  For once, Gavin had listened—and taken the old man’s advice. He’d straightened up, graduated school, worked hard at community college, and lo and behold, got into law school. Like some sort of miracle, he’d done right.

  He missed her, regretted how he’d treated her, though she wouldn’t have won a mother of the year award. Sometimes, late at night, when his thoughts drifted to her, guilt consumed him. Had he driven her to an early grave?

  It was too horrific to contemplate for long.

  So whenever he was down, when he lost a case, when he became so consumed with work he thought he might drop, he got Chinese takeout for dinner. It calmed his soul, reminded him of those rare carefree times he’d spent with his mother, and besides, he really freaking liked Chinese food.

  Tonight, for Stasia, he’d ordered so much damn food, it felt like there were at least a hundred of those tiny little takeout boxes scattered across his kitchen counter. He’d wanted to cheer her up, hated to see her so sad and thought food would be a good option to however temporarily cure her blues.

  He’d been wrong. She picked at th
e food on her plate, hardly ate any of it. Hardly talked either. The meeting had been a rough one. Alex was the quiet, noble one who wouldn’t give an inch until that damn DNA test came through. Hunter was hostile as fuck, hurling words as if they were weapons, one after the other, and then watching the aftermath with glee. The only one who’d been nice was Rhett, but he’d hardly said a word, almost as if he were afraid he’d step in it and say the wrong thing, only to deal with the wrath of his brothers.

  Not that Gavin could blame the man, but still. Talk about a goddamn mess.

  The meeting had lasted no longer than twenty minutes, and when they’d finally stumbled out of the Worth Building, both of them were stunned silent. He felt like he’d gone through a war zone, engaged in full-on combat, and he wasn’t even the one they’d attacked.

  He could only imagine how Stasia must’ve felt. Still felt.

  “Are you going to eat?” He pushed away his empty plate, his stomach so full it hurt. He’d been ravenous, having not eaten all day, too busy to stop for anything.

  Stasia shook her head, pushing her plate away from her as well. “I appreciate the effort, but I’m not hungry.”

  “Have you eaten at all today?” Concern filled him. He’d known her for only a short time and he swore she was thinner than when he’d first met her.

  She shrugged slim shoulders, gazed off into the distance as if lost in thought. “I don’t remember.”

  “Hey,” he murmured. She met his gaze, her eyes rimmed red, dark circles beneath them, and wan, pale skin. Crying so damn much since the meeting, which infuriated him. “It’s going to be all right, you know. Those test results will come back and prove who you are without a doubt. Then we’ll make the next step.”

  “It won’t matter. They still won’t accept me.” She shook her head, pushed her hair away from her face. “No one accepts me. I have no family.”

  “You have the Renaldis. You told me more than once your brothers are working their hardest to help you.” They stayed in contact with her, especially Matteo. Gavin had spoken to Rafe only a few days ago with questions in regards to Stasia’s emotional state. They worried about her, didn’t believe her when she said everything was all right. All three of them wanted Stasia back in Italy, working at Renaldi.

  But she was so focused on earning acceptance from the Worth brothers, she couldn’t see her family was waiting for her. Wanting her back.

  “I could lose them. They could forget me. My so-called father made sure the possibility is there. And now these men, these Worth people who think they are so high and mighty, as if they are above me and can look down their nose at me. They don’t want me anywhere near their family or their business.” She sniffed, disgust and misery written all over her pretty face.

  “Not true. You heard Alex.” Alex would always do right and be fair. It was in his blood, and if Stasia was blood, then he would stand by her and rectify the situation.

  “Oh, he said all the right things, but I doubt he wants me to interfere with the family. I’m the interloper, you see. And even if they do somewhat accept me into the fold, they’ll view me as the enemy for the rest of my life. I may as well not even bother contacting them anymore.” She grabbed a discarded chopstick, tapping it against the edge of the plate.

  “Now don’t go saying that,” Gavin started, but she cut him off with a look.

  “It’s true and you know it. You saw how they were, especially Hunter.” The tapping increased its pace, setting him on edge.

  “Hunter can be an asshole to anyone.” He’d heard Alex say that more than once. The guy was charming, extremely good at his job and equally extremely protective of those he cared for, which earned him the reputation of acting like a guard dog when a stranger got too close.

  Like Stasia did.

  “Don’t take it personally,” he said, mostly to calm her down. But he knew she had and didn’t blame her for it either. All the scathing remarks Hunter had hurled her way had most definitely been personal. The guy knew how to go for the throat.

  She snapped the chopstick in half, tossed the remnants on the table with a loud clatter. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who’s being attacked.”

  “He didn’t mean it. He’s afraid. And when you have a snarling, scared animal backed in a corner, he lashes out any way that he can.”

  “I’m not backing him into a corner, I’m trying to tell him the truth.”

  “And he doesn’t believe you. Hence his defensiveness,” he countered.

  “So that’s what we’re calling being a complete asshole these days? Defensiveness?” Her voice rose, her cheeks flamed pink. She was good and pissed now.

  Which he preferred to her being sad and desolate.

  “He has a rather gruff reputation in the business.” Now Gavin was the one being defensive.

  This entire case was starting to make him crazy.

  “I don’t care. He was awful to me. He doesn’t believe a word I say. I bet he fully expects that DNA test to come back negative.” This was Stasia’s absolute worst fear. She couldn’t help but think it would happen.

  And then what would she do?

  “He hates me,” she continued when Gavin hadn’t said anything. “Funny how the one I look most like absolutely despises me.”

  “It is pretty ironic,” Gavin agreed.

  She sent him a withering stare. “Do you think I look like him? Hunter?”

  He was quiet for so long, he made her nervous. And when he still didn’t speak, she felt like she was going to crawl out of her skin. “Say something!”

  “You look like him.” He studied her much like the Worth brothers had earlier. “It’s in the eyes and the shape of your face. From here up.” He held his hand above his mouth. “You resemble him strongly.”

  Relief trickled through her. “You believe me, don’t you? That Michael Worth was my father?”

  The incredulous look that came over his face stunned her. Her words stunned him, clearly. “I can’t believe you would ask that. Of course I believe you. Why do you think I’m here, helping you?”

  “I’m starting to doubt myself, you know.” She picked up another chopstick, dragged it through the food that still sat on the plate, untouched. “What if this is all some sort of cruel hoax? What if my mother slept with all sorts of men when she split from my father? Who knows who my father could be?”

  “Your mother wouldn’t be so mean as to play such a hoax on you, Stasia. No matter what you think of her, no matter how badly the two of you are getting along at the moment, I don’t believe she would be that awful to you.”

  “You’re right. She wouldn’t.” Stasia closed her eyes, leaned her head forward. “I’m so confused, so sick of this. I don’t know what to do anymore, what to say, what to think.”

  “Don’t think.” He settled his hand on the back of her neck, his fingers gently pressing into her skin. “Relax tonight. Try not to let it all get to you.”

  “Too late.” It would forever get to her. Didn’t he see this?

  “I didn’t get along with my mother either,” Gavin said, his tone casual.

  She stiffened beneath his touch. It wasn’t like Gavin to share personal information. “What about your father?”

  “He was never in my life. I…I don’t really know who he is.” Gavin started massaging her in earnest, his fingers working magic on the tight knots in her neck. The tension slowly ebbed as he rubbed and prodded and she relaxed her shoulders, kept her eyes closed, concentrating on the way he touched her.

  The way he made her feel.

  “Why didn’t you get along with your mother?”

  “Our life was…nothing like yours. I grew up poor. My mom worked dead-end jobs or didn’t work much at all. And I was a pain in her ass, especially when I was a teenager. I did things I shouldn’t have. I stole things. I did drugs. I was your stereotypical teenage troublemaker.”

  Shock coursed through her. She couldn’t imagine Gavin as a stealing, drug-taking teen. That he’d
cleaned up his life so completely was admirable. “You probably think I’m a spoiled little girl constantly having fits.” Embarrassment filled her. Her behavior bordered on the ridiculous. Gavin had grown up with nothing and made something of himself when he could’ve ended up a complete mess. She’d been handed everything and now that it was taken away from her, she stomped her foot and expected immediate action.

  “I don’t. You’re upset. Your reactions are valid.” He smoothed his fingers down her nape with the gentlest of touches, sending gooseflesh scattering all over her skin. “You need to be strong and stand up for what you believe in.”

  “It’s so hard,” she admitted, hanging her head low.

  “Remind yourself that you have your brothers. The Renaldis.” When she was about to protest, he cut her off. “You do. Don’t deny it. Maybe you should reach out to your mom too. You’re both hurt and lashing out because of it. Don’t make the mistake I did,” Gavin said softly.

  Stasia turned to look at him, her breath lodging in her throat at the sincerity in his expression, the worry shining in his gaze. “What mistake was that?”

  “Once I became busy with my own life, I rarely saw my mom. I didn’t make enough time for her and then I lost her forever.” Reaching out, he cupped her cheek, his fingers stroking her skin. “You’ll regret it.”

  Her throat ached with emotion and she swallowed it down, leaning into his touch. He understood her and that meant the world to her. “You’re right,” she whispered.

  “You should take a bath,” he murmured. “It’ll relax you.”

  “That sounds nice.” She was tired. The last week’s events—heck, the last month’s events—were catching up with her, sending her straight into exhaustion. “I might fall asleep in the tub, though.”

  “I’ll make sure you don’t. Come on.” He reached for her arm, helped her stand. She leaned against him, thankful for his strength, for the way he took control of things when she didn’t want to deal with any of it. “Let’s get your tub started and you can strip.”