Princess: Ridgeview Prep Book 2

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Princess: Ridgeview Prep Book 2 Page 12

by Quinn, Londyn


  “Don’t you ever come into my house and passive-aggressively tell me to rein in my daughter. She’s a Hawthorne. She’ll play her part perfectly.”

  Play my part? What in the fuck does that even mean?

  I don’t have anything to do with my father’s business ever. Other than the times he forces me to hobnob with his dickhead clients at charity functions and galas.

  “Let’s just all agree that we will not let family issues get in the way of this. We all have a lot of skin in this game. But the rewards will be incredible,” the stranger instructs as the doorknob starts to turn.

  I dart back into the kitchen quickly as my father says goodbye to his guests.

  Please don’t come in here.

  “Charlotte, a minute.”

  Damn it. My father. His gruff voice washes over me instantly. What in the world could he possibly want to talk to me about after all of that bullshit? Probably something to do with me playing my part. Curiosity rushes in. Maybe my father will, for once, clue me in on what the fuck is actually going on in this house.

  “Sa-sure,” I stammer out, whipping around to see his hard-lined lips and the stern furrow of his brow. I set my tasty treat and water onto the counter, tucking my hands into the pockets of my sweat pants. Following him into the library, I sink into the armchair next to the plush couch.

  “What’s going on?” I spit out abruptly before he has even gotten situated across from me.

  “I know you have been spending a lot of time with Xander again.” His words are sharp, calculated. His hands collapse onto one another as his jaw churns. He doesn’t want to be having this conversation either, but it’s happening. And he started it. There’s no going back now.

  As my father’s stare bores holes into my skin, I nod. “And?”

  “And I am done fighting it. You win, Lottie. You and Xander have won this battle. And I know that no matter how much I try, no matter how much I loathe it, I am going to have to deal with the reality of Xander Iazetti being in your life. Being in our lives.”

  As every word registers, one by one, I become more and more shocked. More and more skeptical. But I don’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth. My father is finally accepting me, accepting us, our relationship, and I need to just be grateful for the small gesture that he is offering. Finally, a damn olive branch. About fucking time, Charles. Is this me playing my role? If that’s it, I’ll fucking play that role so damn well!

  “Th-thank you.” I don’t know what else to say as I sit, glued to this seat in a staring contest with my father. The worst place I could ever find myself, but is it? Right now it seems like I am finally winning. For once in my fucking life, both of my parents are acting exactly how I have ever wanted them to. I need to be grateful. I should be grateful. But my brain is screaming out danger warnings, and the feeling like this is a trap is consuming every damn nerve in my body completely. It wouldn’t be the first time and it wouldn’t be the last time that something like this happened. That they both let me down in a monumental way.

  Am I being paranoid?

  Maybe that is it.

  Maybe this is finally the big break I have been looking for.

  “We are throwing a party this coming weekend. Big things are happening for my company and it is time to reveal it to the world. I want you to invite Xander to come. A show of good faith. We’re making a big announcement. I think he’ll be interested in it.”

  What? What in the hell is my father saying?

  Really? He actually wants Xander to be there? Holy hell. This might be the best day of my life to date. But what could my father possibly announce that Xander would be interested in. It's not like the Iazettis and Hawthornes have anything to do with the others’ businesses. And Xander is just a kid. Fuck it. I am not going to let myself overthink this one to death.

  “That means a lot to me,” I mutter as I try to read my father’s dead eyes. Of course they don’t give anything away. And that is the Charles Hawthorne I have grown to know. But now is not the time to question anything. Now is the time to be a good daughter and just go with this gesture of good faith.

  “It’ll be nice to see how he handles an elite function. We need to make sure that he is up to the challenge.”

  And there it is. There is the reality of the situation. My father will stop at nothing to protect the family’s reputation, and making sure that his only daughter is on the arm of someone who can be as snobby and pretentious as the rest of the guest list is priority number one. But I will fucking take it. Because this means that Xander is one step closer to being able to actually be with me. Finally our future is looking brighter.

  “I think he is up for that, Dad. He isn’t from a trash heap of a family, ya know.” And my words sound so harsh I feel like my father is immediately going to regret his decision of being nice. But he doesn’t. He just gets up from his seat, smiles a little at me and says, “I know, Lottie. And I am sorry for being so quick to judge him before. I can see that he truly cares for you.”

  As my father exits the library, I feel like I am going to puke from the shock.

  Was that real?

  Did that actually happen?

  Did my father just admit that he was wrong?

  I mean, there is a first time for everything, but this? Really? I feel like I need to have my father committed. Is he on a bad acid trip or something? Did he get into my mother’s stash of happy pills?

  * * *

  “Hey,” Ellie’s voice breaks into the receiver right when I answer her call. “What’re you up to?”

  Looking down at my French book, I sigh. “Trying to study a little before dinner.”

  “Want a buddy? This calculus might damn near kill me.”

  “That would be amazing. How are you doing with your Shakespeare report?” I ask.

  Ellie laughs. “I wrote the title so far.”

  I pull open my notebook to an empty page as I laugh. “You’re farther along than I am.”

  “I’ll head over and we will make this shit our bitch!” Ellie sings out.

  “Sounds like an incredible plan.”

  It doesn’t take long for Ellie to ring the doorbell.

  I walk down into the foyer where Moira is opening the door for her.

  “Hi,” I greet Ellie as she walks in.

  She offers a little wave, while Moira’s kind smile consumes her face. “Why don’t you ladies head into the parlor while I whip up some tea and snacks to fuel your cram session?”

  I nod to Moira as she shuts the heavy mahogany door and heads for the kitchen.

  “Shall we?”

  Ellie follows me into the parlor, her giant bookbag slamming down on the glass table.

  “You would think that these schools would figure out a way to make books lighter or some shit.”

  I snort out a little giggle. “Right? So what do you want to start with?”

  “How are you doing in calculus?”

  I roll my eyes. “I know it’s math. With everything that is going on, I feel so far behind. I was totally lost yesterday. The inverse relationship between differentiation and integration, and understanding it from the graph.”

  “That’s where I am stuck, too.”

  Pulling out my laptop, I start to head down a YouTube rabbit hole to find some genius explaining our assignment in the plainest English possible. As I was about to pull up one that looked promising, Ellie leans on her elbow.

  “Before we dive in, I have to know what in the hell is going on with Xander and Blaine. Is there a little love triangle building up there or what?”

  I push my computer a little away from me before swiping my hand over my face. “There’s nothing really going on with Blaine. I think he might want there to be, but honestly, I don’t want anything to do with him.”

  Ellie taps the eraser of her pencil onto her lips. “Seems like he was pretty interested in what was going on with you and Xander after that cunt freaked out in the middle of school. I overheard him asking a few peopl
e about it.”

  “Really? Why does he even care?” I roll my neck, trying to wrack my brain for any form of information that would explain Blaine’s weird-as-hell behavior over the last couple of weeks.

  “Fuck if I know. That’s why I had to ask you about it. He seems to be pretty invested in your business which is so fucking strange.”

  “You’re telling me. Oh well, Xander is the one I actually care about. My father even asked if he would come to some big function that Hawthorne Industries is throwing on Saturday.”

  As the words slip out of my mouth, excitement for Xander to be involved bubbles up again. It wasn’t a dream. It was real, and I am finally going to be able to show the guy I love off to the city.

  “Even after how big of a dick he was to you when you first got home?” Ellie asks quickly.

  Closing my eyes, I let out a forced sigh. “We had some issues to work out from before I left for boarding school. We were both hurt. We just needed to get past all of it and I think we have finally done it!”

  Ellie offers a kind smile. “Then I am really happy for you.”

  “Thanks. Me, too.”

  “Does this mean we get to go dress shopping for your big night?” Ellie bounces a little in her seat.

  “That would be so amazing. I would love it if you would go with me. I need to find a damn show-stopper for sure.”

  “Trip into the city!” Ellie squeals. “I have always wanted to feel like the chicks on Sex and the City for one shopping trip.”

  “Then it’s a date. I’ll make an appointment for Friday after school at Bergdorf Goodman and have Rolland drive us in.”

  “This is going to be the fucking best ever!”

  Chapter 17

  Xander

  I scroll through satellite radio stations until I find something that suits my mood, something heavy, dark, and loud that can drown out all of the noise in my head. Jase has kept me on a pretty tight leash after hearing that Carl Montrose is in bed with Moretti, and if I even tried to escape so I could warn Charles about his business partner, I’m pretty sure Jase would run me over.

  I rub the sides of my temples. There is so much that still doesn’t make sense. How are we gonna connect the dots if we don’t ask any questions?

  “I can see the wheels turning, bro,” Jase grunts, pressing his foot on the gas and speeding through a yellow light. “But forget it. This is the time to lay low. We got our information, now we watch to see how shit plays out.”

  “This is exactly what Lorenzo was talking about!” I shout. “Dad’s MO of standing down instead of taking action...this is why people aren't taking us seriously anymore, why they’re afraid of a takeover. If we sit back with our thumbs up our asses, we won’t ever be able to hold off Moretti. He’s got a lot of money and that can buy power and people, both of which he needs to overthrow us and grab control of our territories. Do you get why laying low is a bad fucking idea?”

  Jase swings his car into a parking spot outside one of the dance clubs we own and slams on the brakes before throwing the beast of an SUV into park. He whips his head to look at me, his dark eyes blazing with anger. “And do you get why you’re never gonna rise in the organization? Do you understand that not listening to orders will get your ass killed?”

  “Sitting around playing with our dicks is so much more productive?” I snarl. “What do you think is gonna happen when Moretti starts building up? You think all of his fancy shit won’t tempt our guys? People want cash, Jase. They want power. If he promises them both, he’ll win!”

  “Dad’s guys are loyal to him. They’ve stuck around because they believe in him and his ability to expand.”

  “Well, guess what? A pretty damn big obstacle is sitting in his way and we know who it is! We can fucking stop it, show our strength, give our guys the confidence they need to keep working with us, and push Moretti back out to West Bumblefuck, USA, where he can lick his wounds because even with his backer, he couldn’t battle the Iazetti family.” I rake a hand through my hair. “Don’t you think that’s a better story?”

  “We will stop it,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “But we’re gonna take Dad’s lead because it’s his fucking play! And he’s pretty much already told you where your next job is gonna be because you can’t seem to take direction from me. Maybe you’ll do better under Phoenix.”

  I clench my fists, so tempted to hurl one at my brother’s nose.

  Jase smirks. “You can barely control yourself, bro. You need to get that shit in check if anyone at the top is gonna take you seriously.”

  I swallow the next words that are about to fly out of my mouth because they may get my ass pummeled. Although it’d be worth it to see how my smug-ass brother would react. Such a condescending prick.

  A condescending prick who wouldn’t be alive right now if not for me.

  But as time goes on, that memory fades more and more. I had a chance to rise up and then I let anger and frustration drive my actions. Years ago, I took the wrong path and I can’t seem to get back on the right one.

  Jase pushes open the car door. “Come on, stop wishing me dead and get out of my fucking car. We have some business to handle.”

  I get out of the SUV, slamming the door hard, just because I know it pisses him off. Sure enough, he glares at me over his shoulder as he stalks toward the back entrance. He yanks open the heavy metal door and strides through the darkened club like he owns the place. That’s one thing I can say about my brother. No matter what he’s thinking, he never shows up without that air of confidence around him. He may be many bulbs shy of a chandelier, but he makes up for it with attitude.

  Still…

  I watch as he slaps some guys on the back and shakes hands with a bunch of thug-types at the bar, smiling and nodding at the dancers on stage as they slide up and down their poles.

  I wonder how far that confidence will get him since it seems like every time we come to collect, the take is less and less. Is someone gonna take issue with the fact that we’re losing money at these places, the places he’s supposed to be managing?

  Because right now, I’m pretty confident that we’re being taken for a fucking ride. And I wonder how much longer it’ll be before Jase realizes it.

  He may have swagger, but he’s proven time and time again that he’s got shit for brains.

  Another reason why I can’t for the life of me figure out why Dad still has him in charge.

  Maybe he figures Jase is the lesser of the evils.

  Stupid but loyal?

  How much money is Dad really willing to risk?

  Unless he thinks with Jase in charge, it gives the look that things are under control?

  I guess swapping out your top enforcer makes you look weak when the guy is your son.

  I grit my teeth and scout the club. Typical bullshit. Horny dudes palming their dicks, lap dances in every corner, naked chicks in high heels strutting around holding trays full of juice drinks since that’s the law here. No clothes, no booze.

  It’s one of the hottest clubs in the area and it makes money hand over fist.

  We also do a little dealing on the side — blow, weed, ecstasy — anything to enhance the experience and get these guys to spend more and more money on the top-shelf pussy on display.

  We have private rooms for the crazy shit.

  Basically, any fantasy can be fulfilled within these walls...but only for a steep price.

  I stuff my hands into my pockets and walk over to Jase. He’s huddled together with the manager. Things look copasetic, at least at first glance. But then I inch closer and things don’t sound as friendly as they look.

  “I wanna know why you’re short again,” Jase growls.

  Aha. So he has noticed. Why hasn’t he said anything to Dad?

  Oh fuck.

  He’s been making up the difference, hasn’t he?

  I roll my eyes. He hasn’t said shit about this to Phoenix or my father. I’d stake my life on it. If he had, there’s no way he’d stil
l be collecting.

  Right?

  I mean, Dad is a businessman. He wouldn’t accept a loss without doing something about it.

  But Jase doesn’t want to be demoted and he knows if he shows up short, Dad will take a foot to his ass.

  Here I was, thinking he was just too dumb to notice.

  Maybe he’s smarter than I give him credit for being.

  He grabs the manager, a guy named Joey, and turns his head toward me. “Joey has some paperwork to show us,” he hisses.

  I glance at Joey, who looks like he’s about to shit himself. I slide a hand into my pocket and my fingers close around my trusty box cutter.

  Fucking A. Shit is gonna get bloody.

  I follow Jase and Joey into one of the back offices and Jase slams the door shut behind us. “I’m gonna make this nice and easy, Joey,” he says in a gruff voice. “Where is the missing cash? I know what was delivered during the week, and I know what was sold.”

  Joey looks from me to Jase and walks over to his desk. I can see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat even though he stands straight and tall, like he’s got a rod stuck up his ass.

  Does he really think he’s gonna be able to protect himself from us using that desk as armor?

  And that rod thing...with Jase, anything is possible.

  “I wasn’t here for a couple of days, so maybe someone got into the safe and—”

  “Bullshit!” Jase bellows. “You know exactly what happened to the money. Tell me and you save your tongue.” He snaps his fingers at me and I pull out the weapon, sliding the stainless steel blade up. The tip gleams under the ceiling lights.

  Joey claps a hand over his mouth, eyes so wide they look as if they’re gonna pop out of his skull.

  I can make that happen, too.

  Adrenaline courses through me as Jase berates the guy for fucking around with our cash. My fingers twitch as we get closer and closer to the best fucking part of the visit.

  The part where all of the rage eating away at my insides gets to be unleashed.

  It’s like an orgasm...of the fucking explosive and mind-numbing kind.

 

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