Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
I wasn’t a liar.
In fact, the last woman I slept with outside of the club called me brutally honest. Actually, she called me “a fucking brutally honest prick” if I recalled correctly. Yet, somehow, I ended up lying to the two people I loved most.
We walked past the curving staircase in the entryway and into the opulent dining room. My godfather sat in his usual seat at the head of the table, perusing his favorite section of the newspaper—the stock market, and nursing a glass of red wine.
Ever since his diagnosis, he made sure to do his part by changing his diet and lifestyle, limiting himself to only the occasional drink and never more than one. When he did indulge, he savored them like a man enjoying his last meal. Which, for him, it might be.
After he gave up on treatment a couple months ago, he took time to enjoy every moment. I’d argued that he could enjoy more moments if he continued chemotherapy. He’d smiled at my rage and explained that clinging to a life that wasn’t meant to be had no moments left to enjoy—just moments to survive in suffering.
I’d gone on a week-long drinking bender, raging at the unfairness, and pissed at the world. More than once, I’d shown up at their house ready to convince him to keep going. But Grace stood outside the door like a gargoyle, blocking my path, protecting her husband. Her resilience and commitment to him were what broke through my anger and led to the realization that if she could stand by the man she loved and accept that he chose to die sooner, then so could I.
I still hated it with every fiber of my being and dreamed of some miracle cure, but I accepted his decision to live out his time how he saw fit.
“Felix,” my godmother called. “Look who finally showed up.”
“I wasn’t that late,” I grumbled playfully.
“Lucian,” he greeted, like he hadn’t seen me in years. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks, son.”
I blew out a sigh and sat in the same chair I always did. “I’ve been busier than usual with one of my latest purchases, devoting more time than I typically do after an acquisition. Thankfully, Vic is able to cover for my absence while my attention is elsewhere,” I said of my right-hand man.
“I’ve watched you build your father’s company long enough to know that some acquisitions take more of your time than others,” Grace said. “Let Vic handle the smaller contracts while you apply your focus where it’s needed most. I’m sure it will all work out in the long run.”
“I just hope it’s worth it in the long run.” I ran my hand over my face, trying to wipe away the lingering doubts. Usually, I didn’t discuss too many details of work with Felix or Grace, but after they found me in a frustrated mood weeks ago, I caved and shared vague details. “I’ve never not bought a majority share. I like to have control over the company when I make a purchase.”
“Just like your dad,” Felix added. “He never left anything to chance.”
“Chance,” I scoffed. “I’m not a fan of it. Especially when every company has employees that are discontent with new ownership. It can be difficult to curb when I’m not completely in charge.”
“Maybe this purchase isn’t about being on top, but about being very profitable,” Felix encouraged.
I groaned, not appeased by very profitable. It would be more profitable if I was in control. However, while we earned our wealth through different avenues, I still respected his optimism in my business choice.
“Do you really want to own a company that would displease so many people?” Grace asked, ever the one to look out for everyone.
“Yes,” I answered without hesitance.
My godfather laughed. “Also just like your dad. He was a shark, but he was also a fair one. Don’t forget that.”
“Yeah,” I muttered. Grace handed me a glass of wine, and I copied Felix’s movements.
Swirl. Sniff from the side. Sip. Hold the liquid on your tongue long enough to taste the burst of dark fruit and acidity. Swallow. Sigh in pleasure over the simple joys.
“How does your girlfriend feel about the purchase?” Grace asked.
Guilt reappeared, pricking my conscience.
Liar, liar, liar, it whispered.
I assuaged the pinch by telling myself that I did it to make Felix happy. I lied with good intentions. When he decided to stop treatment, I panicked, desperate for a solution, and told him I had a girlfriend I’d been keeping quiet about but had been dating her long enough that I considered possibly asking her to marry me. I’d hoped it would encourage him to continue with treatment, so he could be there for the celebration. Instead, it backfired and caused him to find more reasons for me to get married sooner and him prodding me for details about a girlfriend that didn’t exist. Which then led to more avoidance and lies.