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“You’ve had one hell of a life.” I smile at him tightly and don’t bother to mention the string of divorces and the long list of scandals and messes he’s caused by doing whatever he wants. Not that I can blame him—in his position, I would’ve done exactly the same.
Hell, I still plan on it, which is why I’m putting up with his rambling nonsense.
“One hell of a life,” he agrees, nodding. “But it’s not over yet and there’s still work to do. There’s one goal I’ve never achieved, and it’s the one goal I care about the most in this world. That’s why you’re here.”
“Whatever it is, I’d be happy to help.”
“Don’t butter me up, god damn it. I get enough of your cousins shoving their noses up my asshole and sniffing and telling me how nice it smells.” He stops and jams a finger in my chest. I have a strange moment where I remember another time someone did that exact thing to me, except she was young and stupid and trying to be seductive, while Grandpop is old and smart and trying to intimidate. Strange how the same gesture can mean two completely different things. “I’m going to ask you to do something hard. You’re not going to like it. But if you pull it off, I promise I’ll make it worth the effort.”
I stare down at him. “You’ll make me your successor.”
“Damn right I will.” He stares back, which means this is big. This is very big. I’m sweating now, heart racing. This is what I’ve wanted my whole life—my chance to sit at the head of the family and run the Arc empire, and all I have to do is cross one last item off Grandpop’s bucket list. If the old man wants me to carry him from room to room in some sick, niche whorehouse in the deepest, darkest depths of Siberian Russia, I’ll fucking do it. I’ll do anything to make this happen.
Years and years of hard work brought me to this moment. Years of fighting off my cousins, of dealing with their bullshit, their backstabbing, their two-faced lying, their aggression. Years of working diligently at the company and not taking shit from anyone. Years of my uncles looking down on me, of my aunts talking shit behind my back, all to end up on this hike with this old man out in the wilderness.
I’m so close. So fucking close. It’s right there and all I have to do is take it.
“What do you need from me?”
“You know the Stockton family.” That’s not a question. Every Arc knows the Stocktons. There’s a feud going back to our cattle ranching days and for some reason, Grandpa’s been holding on to it tighter than most. He despises Ernest Stockton, the current head of the Stockton family, maybe because their family is everything we used to be: independently wealthy, politically connected, immensely powerful. We lost all that thanks to bad investments by Grandpop’s father, and we only managed to claw back a portion of our former selves through Grandpop’s ingenuity.
I never gave a shit about that feud. Stockton, Spatter, Hegney, I don’t give a shit about a last name. Grandpop and the others can distract themselves with weird revenge fantasies like we’re the rich version of the Hatfields and the McCoys, but the idea of hating some people just because of shit that happened before I was born is extremely absurd.
Still, Grandpop is the spine of our family. He’s the soil we’re all planted in. Without him, I don’t know what we’d be, and we all owe him our respect. I keep telling myself that, even if I think this feud is childish.
“You’ve never let me forget them,” I say with a tight smile.
He grunts in reply. “Of everything I’ve wanted to do, destroying that family’s always eluded me. Don’t give me that look, boy. I know I sound like a comic book villain right now, but it’s the goddamn truth. I’m eighty-five years old, and it’s time I stepped down, but not before I hurt those fucking Stockton cunts so badly they never forget me, and I want you to be my weapon.”
Grandpop stops walking and faces me again. I stare down at him vibrating with energy. Finally, finally, the old bastard is talking about retirement. He’s eighty-fucking-five years old and beyondpast the age where he should’ve given up control, but finally it’s time, and all I have to do is play along with his insipid little revenge story.
“What can I do?”
“There’s a daughter. She’s Ernest’s youngest granddaughter. Mother’s that junkie bitch they’re always so ashamed of. I hear Ernest has been looking for a good match for her and plans on marrying her off soon.” He moves closer to me. “I want you to step in. Seduce her. Marry her. Destroy her. Find me something I can use against that family.”
My smile tightens and spoils. “You want me to whore myself?”
“I want you to fuck them. Fuck the girl too for all I care, though I hear she’s nothing special.”
“Why would Ernest ever consider me? He hates you as much as you hate him.”
“He wouldn’t but the girl might. Convince her. I don’t care how.”
I take a deep breath. This feels deeply, deeply fucking wrong, and it’s the last thing I want to do—why drag this poor girl into this stupid bullshit? But I’d do anything to take over the family, and if I have to fuck some stupid Stockton girl to do it then I’ll put on my best suit and my best smile and eat her pussy until she spills all their secrets.
“What’s her name?”
He starts walking again. “Katherine Stockton. Goes by Kat. Find her, ingratiate yourself with her, and get me some revenge. You can do all that and the family will be yours. But don’t take too long, boy. I don’t have forever.”
I nod and let Grandpop take the lead. I stare at the grass, at the valley, at the bushes and the rocks, and the sun climbing into the sky, and I wonder how far I’ll go for this, how much of myself I’m willing to give up to this old man.
And I know I’d give up everything, do anything, kill anyone to get what I want.
Including Kat Stockton.
Chapter 4
Kat
