“What happened? Did I do something? Say something? Is there anything you’re not telling me in regards to this meeting? Are they going to drop some sort of verbal bomb that will send me reeling?” She grabbed his arm, gave it a little shake. “I’ve been sent reeling before, Gavin. I don’t think I could take it again. Not now, not so soon after my father’s death.”
“Let me reassure you, I know of no bombs the Worths might’ve planned to drop on you. Today’s meeting is a simple meet and greet sort of thing. A chance for you to talk to them, to show a bit of your personality, to show you’re not threatening them or the company in any manner.”
“That is all anyone cares for, is it not? Money and riches and who might end up with what cut.” The disgust curling through her was potent. Overwhelming. “They see any sort of glimmer of my diamond-encrusted claws and they’ll lock down their entire financial portfolio when I couldn’t give a damn about getting one cent out of them.”
“You know that, Stasia. I know that. But
they
don’t know that. And they’re the ones who matter right now,” Gavin pointed out.
She released her grip on his arm, taking a deep breath. “You’re right. I need to keep a cool head.”
“You do. Don’t display even an iota of that temper you just shared with me. They’re looking for any excuse to walk and shut down communication with you. Don’t give them a reason.”
Emitting an un-ladylike snort, she crossed her arms in front of her chest. “All of this hinges on me and my behavior. I am the one who is scrutinized. It’s so unfair.”
“It is what it is. You take it too personally and you’ll fall apart within minutes. Stay strong.” He leaned in, brushed the quickest, sweetest kiss to her cheek. “You can do this, baby. I know you can.”
She stiffened her spine, his words and tender kiss giving her courage. There was still minor turmoil rumbling between them, but they would solve their troubles later. Right now, she needed to focus on the task at hand. Convincing the Worths she wasn’t a threat.
The door opened, and one by one, the brothers entered the room, in birth order, even. Alex first, emanating power with just a glance, his expression tight, his dark blue suit utter perfection. She trembled at the sight of him, gripped the arms of her chair tight when he looked at her, then flicked his glance away.
Dismissed. Just like that.
Hunter was next, his expression one of seething, barely restrained anger. He wouldn’t even look her way as he chose a chair to sit in, keeping his gaze carefully averted.
Disappointment left a hollow in her stomach.
And finally Rhett strode in. Casually dressed in khaki pants and an untucked white button-front shirt with the sleeves rolled up, he appeared to have not a care in the world. He flashed Stasia a cheeky grin, acknowledging her with a flick of his chin.
It was probably foolish, but Stasia viewed the youngest Worth brother as her only ally among them.
“Gavin,” Alex said, reaching out to shake Gavin’s hand, who stood to greet him. “Good to see you. You’re looking well.”
“Same goes for you, Alex.” They shook hands before they both sat down, Alex directly across from him. “I see marriage and fatherhood agrees with you.”
A spark of pleasure lit Alex’s dark blue gaze, quick as a flickering match before the flame was doused. “It does, indeed. Family, as you well know, has always been important to me.”
“I do know. That’s why I hope you’re looking forward to meeting my client.”
Alex’s gaze met hers and fear trembled in her heart. He was intelligent, shrewd. Tough. She’d heard many a story how he could make grown women and men cry with just a look.
She refused to let him break her. After all, she’d grown up with three macho Italian brothers who thought they were God’s gift. Surely she could handle three more of them, right?
“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 the 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.”