Final Offer: Chapter 6
Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires, 3)
Lana stuns me into silence. She doesnât stick around for a reply that probably wonât come. Whatever relief I gained from finding out neither Lana nor myself are Camiâs parents seems short-lived, easily replaced by the ache in my chest as I watch her walk away from me yet again.
I deserved better from you.
Of course she did. She deserved the whole damn world, but I wasâamâtoo sick to give her anything but heartache.
And whose fault is that?
Iâm not sure how long I stand there mulling over the conversation I had with Lana, but I donât move until my skin prickles from the rising sun. I take a step toward my car and nearly trip over a small person standing in front of me.
âHi!â Cami smiles up at me and waves.
My heart rate picks up. âHi?â
âYouâre the mister from last night.â The tan skin around her blue eyes crinkles as her grin widens. Her dad must have some strong genes because Cami barely resembles Lanaâs sister except for the color of her skin and the shape of her lips.
âYes?â
âIâm Cami.â She holds out her hand for me to shake.
âCal.â Iâm on autopilot as I clutch her small palm. The size difference between us is comical, but her grip is strong as she shakes my arm like a pool noodle.
âHi, Cow-l.â
âCal,â I repeat slower this time, emphasizing the ah sound.
âCam-eee.â She drags out her name while pointing at her chest, instantly making me feel like an idiot for trying to teach her how to properly say my name.
Who cares how she says it? Just get out of here.
âWell, itâs been great talking to youâ¦â I take a step around her.
âWait.â
Jesus, take the wheel and drive me off the nearest cliff please.
She runs ahead and stops in front of me, blocking my path toward the car. âYou owe me a dollar.â
I blink down at her. âFor what?â
âThe swear jar.â She holds out her hand. âDinero, por favor.â
âThe swear jar? What the hell is that?â
Her big eyes stretch wide. âUh-oh. Now you owe me two dollars.â
âI see theyâre teaching extortion from a young age.â
âWhatâs extorshee-on?â
I give my head a good shake. âForget about it.â I sidestep her and put five feet between us before she is chasing after me.
âHey! What about my money?â
I shut my eyes and count to five. Sweat begins to slide down my neck from my internal temperature spiking. I have absolutely no experience with children besides encountering and avoiding the occasional kid in public. Until Declan and Iris have one of their own, Iâm grossly underprepared to deal with any of this.
Just give her the money and go. I check my wallet for singles but come up empty. âSorry, kiddo, but I donât have any dollars.â
âHow about that?â She points at the stack of hundred-dollar bills with big eyes.
âDo you even know how much these are worth?â
Her blank stare doesnât give me much to go off.
âFine. Whatever. Here you go.â I give her one of the bills.
âBut you said two bad words.â
âThese are worth more than a dollar.â I tap the numbers to emphasize. âThatâs a hundred. See?â
Are you really trying to reason with a kid?
Her brows scrunch together as she stares at the bill. âHold on. Let me count to make sure⦠Oneâ¦twoâ¦threeâ¦â She traces each number in the air like she is writing on an invisible sheet of paper.
For fuckâs sake. At the rate of her counting, Iâll spend the whole morning here.
I grab another hundred and pass it to her. âThere.â
She pokes her tongue through the gap where one of her front teeth should be. âOooh.â
âBye.â I give her a half-assed salute and resume my walk toward my car.
âWill you play with me?â She follows behind me like a shadow.
âI canât.â
Almost there. The blurry numbers on my license plate get clearer with each step closer to my car.
She runs to keep up with my long strides. âWhy not?â
âIâve got somewhere to be.â Youâre so close. I dig my keys out of my pocket and unlock the door.
Maybe if you throw another hundred on the ground, it will distract her long enough for you to get away.
âWhere are you going?â
Anywhere but here is preferable at the moment. âA meeting.â
âOh.â Her smile falls. âWill you be back?â
âUhmâ¦maybe?â My skin itches.
âYay! Next time you will play with me.â Her hands clap.
The kid needs meds or a muzzle. That much is obvious. She reminds me a lot of myself at that age, bouncing with energy and endless rambling. Itâs a mystery how my brothers didnât try to suffocate me in my sleep.
âSorry, kid. Iâm not here to play with you.â
âOh. But Wyatt plays with me.â
Gravel kicks up underneath my shoes from my sudden stop. âWho?â
âWyatt? Itâs a spelled like Y-A-T.â
âWhatâs his last name?â
Her shrugs. âUmmâ¦deputy?â
Thatâs his damn job, not his name, but itâs all the confirmation I need. Lana and he used to bicker like siblings whenever they were in the same room, and for the longest time I thought they hated each other.
To think you once considered him a friend.
My ears pounds from the blood rushing through my body, bubbling beneath the surface of my skin. Of all the people I thought I could trust, Wyatt was pretty high up on that list. We spent most summers together, and he even visited me twice in Denver while I was attending university. When Lana and I were together, whether we were just friends avoiding the inevitable or officially starting to date, he never seemed the least bit interested in her.
Probably because he was biding his time until you fucked everything up indefinitely.
My muscles strain underneath my shirt as I allow myself to acknowledge the emotion I have no right to feel.
Jealousy. It has a mind of its own, devouring all rational thoughts. Deep down, I know that I have no right to be jealous when Iâm the one who left. Except I trusted Wyatt to watch after her for me.
Sounds like he did a lot more than that.
Iâm glad Wyatt and I arenât friends anymore. Itâll make it all the easier for me to kick his ass once I get a hold of him again.
What if he is the man who you saw kissing Lana outside of Last Call Bar two years ago?
âThe fucking snake,â I blurt out.
Cami gasps.
I flinch. âShit.â
Her mouth drops open.
âDamn?â My voice cracks.
She shakes her head back and forth. I sigh as I pull out my wallet yet again and hand her three more hundred-dollar bills. The way her eyes light up as she squeezes the money is kind of endearing.
Youâre into kids now?
No, but their fascination with money is pretty funny.
âAre you okay, Cow-l?â
Get a hold of yourself.
I unclench my fists. âI better get going.â
She follows behind me like a shadow.
âCamila!â Lana shouts.
We both look up to find Lana stomping down the front steps.
âBusted,â Cami mumbles under her breath. She looks identical to Lana with how she averts everyoneâs gaze when in trouble.
Lana rushes over to us and props her hand on her hip like her mother did whenever she got caught doing something she wasnât supposed to. Which, no thanks to me, was a lot.
âWhy do you insist on talking to strangers after everything we have talked about?â
Being referred to as a stranger shouldnât sting, but it does, especially after learning that Wyatt is involved in Lanaâs daughterâs life now that Iâm out of the picture. It proves that no matter what history Lana and I have, itâs just that.
History.
âIâm sorry, Mommy.â Cami rocks back on her heels.
Lana squats down and looks Cami in the eyes. âYou canât go talking to everyone you meetâeven if they look nice or answer your questions.â
âYou think I look nice?â I plaster on my usual grin, hoping if I fake being happy for long enough, I can erase the uncomfortable feelings swirling inside of my chest.
Thatâs what you always hope.
Lanaâs eyes narrow as she gives me a quick once-over. My skin heats when her gaze lingers on my arms, causing warmth to pool in my belly.
âIâve seen better.â The skin on her nose scrunches.
âYouâve always been a shitty liar, Alana.â I tap the tip of mine to emphasize my point.
Lana and Camiâs eyes both widen at the same time. I pull out my wallet with a sigh and pass Cami another crisp bill.
Six hundred dollars poorer and you still havenât learned your lesson.
âAre you in the habit of handing out hundred-dollar bills?â A single one of Lanaâs brows rises.
âOnly to persistent five-year-olds who donât know how to count to a hundred.â
Lana shoots her daughter an indiscernible look. âWhatâs five times a hundred?â
âFive hundred!â Cami raises her fist full of money in the air.
That little shitâ¦
âYou were saying?â The corners of Lanaâs lips lift into the smallest smile as she looks up at me. Itâs the first one Iâve seen on her face since I showed up here, and it makes my stomach feel all light and bubbly, kind of like I just chugged a vodka seltzer in ten seconds or less.
I recognize the sensation instantly.
Hell no. Not going there. âI better get going.â
I donât dare sneak one last peek at the two of them, although I sense Lanaâs eyes burning a hole into my back as I get inside my car.
Itâs not until I leave the lake house in my rearview mirror that I can finally breathe again.
The three-hour car ride back to Chicago was a blur. I called Leoâs assistant ahead of time to request an emergency meeting, and he was able to squeeze me into his schedule before lunch.
I fiddle with the top of my flask for the third time in the last twenty minutes. Iâm about ready to call his assistant when the doors behind me open and the older lawyer strolls inside. Leo looks like he was stolen from the 1920s with his three-piece suit, feather fedora, and golden pocket watch. All the man needs is a cigar to complete his look.
âCallahan!â He pulls me into a bone-crushing hug. âWhat a nice surprise!â
âReally?â My hands stick out at my sides.
He takes a seat behind his desk. âYes. Iâve been meaning to check in on you for some time now. How have you been?â
I consider giving a basic, nondescript answer but choose to be honest. âIâve seen better days.â
His smile falls a fraction of an inch. âThatâs a shame. Iâm sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do to help make it a little better?â
I sit up taller in the chair. âAs a matter of fact, there is.â
âWhat do you need?â
âI have a couple questions about my grandfatherâs will, and Iâm hoping you can clear them up.â
He places his fedora on his desk and leans back in his chair. âLike what?â
âI need to know who owns the lake house.â
âSure. I can answer that for you. Just give me a second to find the file.â Leo walks over to the wall of filing cabinets and opens a top drawer. My heart rate speeds up as he flips through various files of information before making a confirmatory noise.
He returns to his desk holding on to a file with my name on it.
âAccording to the deed, you do.â
My lungs deflate from my heavy exhale. âThatâs a relief because the person currently living there believes my grandfather left the house to her.â
Leo clasps his hands in front of him. âWell, thatâs the tricky thing.â
My stomach drops.
No. Tell me he didnât.
Leo continues with a smile, as if he isnât about to shatter my world and any chance I have at selling the place. âBased on the most recent deed, youâre listed as a co-owner of the house along with a Miss Alana Castillo.â
Fucking hell. âYouâve got to be kidding me. Iâm never going to be able to sell that house so long as Lana owns part of it.â
âAbout thatâ¦â
I hold my hand up. âLet me guess. I canât buy her out of her percentage.â
His grin doesnât falter. âCorrect.â
âOf course.â
âYour grandfather was very specific about how both you and Ms. Castillo must agree on all legal matters regarding the property.â
âWhat if she doesnât want to sell?â
âThen I would recommend both of you obtain legal counsel.â
I donât have time to spare on speaking with Declanâs legal team, let alone waiting for Lana to find some representation.
Great.
My molars grind together. âAny other surprises I should be aware of before I head back to Lake Wisteria?â
He flips through the file, scanning pages of legal documents. âI think youâre all set. Just remember that any interference from your brothers regarding the sale of the property could have serious repercussions.â
Every one of my muscles turns rigid beneath my shirt. âWhat kind of repercussions?â
He shuts the file with a tight smile. âI think you have enough to worry about given your task. No need to add to that by discussing worst-case situations.â
âCould I lose my shares?â I blurt out.
âLetâs not let it come to that, shall we?â
Fuck.
I take one last sip from my flask before tucking it inside the inner pocket of my suit and opening the door to Declanâs office. His panoramic view of the city is unmatched with floor-to-ceiling windows allowing for ample sunlight. As much as I hate the Kane Company building, the views of Chicago are unparalleled.
My brother sits behind his desk, smashing away at his keyboard with enough force to make it slide forward. âGo away, Todd. Iâm busy.â
âSeriously? Tim has been working here for months already, and you still donât know his name?â
My brotherâs head snaps in my direction. âWhat are you doing here?â
âI came back to clear a few things up with the will.â
His dark brows inch closer together. âAnd?â
I take the seat opposite him, across from his desk. With a quick flick, I undo the button of my suit to give myself some breathing room. Every time I visit the Kane corporate office, itâs always the same. An oppressive pressure builds in my chest, forcing me to sip more from my flask than usual. The office reminds me of my failure to live up to my last name and the expectations set forth because of who my family is.
It doesnât matter.
I tap my fingers against my thighs. âYou and Rowan need to stay far away from my task.â
âWhat do you mean?â He leans back in his chair.
âWhen I stopped by Leoâs office for the updated deed, he dropped a cryptic comment.â
âWhat did he say exactly?â
I repeat my conversation with Leo.
Declan rises and begins pacing, wearing a hole in the carpet. âWhat could he mean by interference?â
âI donât know. When I tried to ask if it had anything to do with my shares, he shut down.â
âShit.â
âMy thought exactly.â The only reason Iâm not panicking is because of the steady stream of vodka pumping throughout my system, giving me a false sense of calm.
He runs his hands through his dark hair, mussing the perfectly slicked-back strands. âGrandpa knew I would step in to help you.â
Probably because Declan has always cleaned up my messes ever since I was born. He couldnât help suffering from an older sibling savior complex, nearly suffocating Rowan and me with his overprotectiveness.
âWhatever you do, donât help.â
His brown eyes drop to the floor.
âDeclanâ¦â
He pulls out his phone, looking paler than usual. âI need to make a few calls.â
Declanâs footsteps quicken as he walks the length of his office.
âYou had a buyer lined up already, didnât you?â My teeth grind together.
âYes.â His hand holding the phone tightens.
âWhy?â
Why couldnât you trust me to do one thing on my own? The real question lingers on the tip of my tongue.
His jaw clenches, making the vein near his temple throb. âWhy else? Itâs not like I was going to leave anything up to chance.â
âMore like you didnât want to leave anything up to me.â
He throws his free hand in the air. âWhy would I? Itâs not as if youâve made any effort to complete your part of the will. Do you even care about fucking Rowan and me over?â
I bolt out of my chair. âWith how little you think of me, maybe I should give up my shares and walk away from this whole damn thing with my dignity intact.â
He releases a bitter laugh. âOf course, thatâs your first solution. I donât know why I expected anything different from the guy who excels at failing.â
âGreat dig, asshole. Did you pick that one up from Dad?â
Do you have an interest in being anything but a family failure? The memory of my dad laughing his drunk ass off takes center stage in my head; him shunning my need for a calculus tutor is quickly replaced by a darker memory.
Why am I not surprised that you couldnât even succeed at hitting a block of rubber aroundâthe harsh words my father shared during my post-op after I tore my ACL.
The only reason youâre on this company board is because your grandpa knew you wouldnât amount to anything on your own. My fatherâs red-rimmed eyes flick over my seat in the conference room.
The one thing my father succeeded at was finding a hundred different ways to make me feel like a pathetic failure.
And now Declanâ¦
Fuck him.
âShit. Calâ¦â Declanâs glare softens.
Screw Declan for using my one weakness against me. Itâs not like I donât want to be better. To do better.
I just donât know how.
I shoot him my fakest smile that makes his eye twitch. âNo need to apologize, brother. Itâs not like I didnât spend my entire life hearing those same words time and time again.â
Declanâs words follow me long after I leave the Kane Company building, feeding off my insecurities like a parasite that can only be cured with a bottle of vodka.
You could get help again. My hand trembles as I pour myself a drink. Some of it spills from my jerky movement, soaking my hand and the surrounding area around the glass.
I shake my head, ignoring the voice in my head beckoning me to stop before I take the first sip.
Always a disappointment.
I pause as my lips touch the rim of the glass.
Youâre better than this.
No. Iâm really not.
I knock back the first drink with a few swallows before pouring myself a second glass. Declan tries to call me twice throughout the night. He even leaves a voicemail, which I delete right away because Iâm too drunk to care.
Just how I like it.