Page 153 of A Dead Man's B-Side
The corners of my lips curled unwittingly. “I’m sure you will be eating, seeing your family, and buying at least one more piece of attire. Let me rephrase, what will be the highlight of your break, Paris?”
She didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she watched me. A look I wasn’t quite familiar with passed over her eyes before she seemed to remember herself. “I… will be–” She cleared her throat. “I will be studying macroeconomics. Mr Rutherford recommended that I argue against a peer-reviewed thesis, and have my work published. Universities look kindly upon students who take academic risks, within certain guidelines, of course.”
I nodded, suddenly intrigued. “I never did ask what you wanted to accomplish in life.”
“I–well, I want to supersede my father’s banking empire but…” she shrugged her shoulders with an air of quiet defeat. “My father prefers to have my brother cover that.”
I nodded along, crossing my arms over my chest and feeling a sense of injustice in her place. “Does he have what it takes? Your brother?”
Paris scoffed, and I could almost taste the bitterness on her tongue. “It’ll be years before we know. He’s seven.”
I pulled my head back at the news. If Paris was older and clearly born for the role, why would her brother have anything covered? How could he, at his age?
My brows were close to meeting from how deeply they were furrowed. “I’m sorry, is your father in his right mind?”
Paris shrugged as if it were something she was used to hearing. “A little.” Another soft breeze passed, and she crossed her arms over her chest, mirroring my stance and standing taller. “Not to worry, Sasha. He will rue the day he overlooked me. You know I don’t take anything lying down.”
Her grin was downright sadistic, and I was glad of it. “That, I know.”
She let out a deep sigh. “Well, anyway, what will you be doing during this break?”
I hadn’t exactly thought of that. If I were to find the leisure among the murder mystery Wolf had asked me to join, I wouldn’t mind picking up a new skill. I tilted my head towards the car holding me upright. “Maybe learn how to drive.”
Paris’s face contorted into one of confusion. “You never learned to drive?”
“Child of poverty, remember?” I asked.
She didn’t appear sympathetic. “Ah, it must have slipped my mind.”
“Besides, I wouldn’t know why you would learn to drive. You have chauffeurs.”
Paris shrugged with raised brows. “C’est la vie. Child of wealth but not one lacking.”
It was my turn to hum, and as I did, there, far down the path, I could make out Wolf’s figure approaching. He walked with his head down and his coat billowing around him like a creature of death.
It was awfully pretentious.
Paris seemed to catch where my gaze was fixated and turned to see the man of the hour. “There’s the golden boy.”
“Nothing golden about him.” The little rat couldn’t even bother paying for all the cigarettes he stole. Then again, he was inviting me into his home for an all-inclusive vacation. But if you really think hard about it, my playing his bodyguard was payment enough.
Oh god, Wolf Kingsley had bought me.
The thought made me cringe.
Paris let out a breathy laugh and reached over to pat my cheek, the touch sudden and yet not as surprising after having been around her so long. “I’m sure your brass armour attracts more fair maidens than his gold ever will, oh, honourable knight.”
Amused, I rolled my eyes and quipped, “You have such a way with words.”
Paris grinned and shrugged in a manner that didn’t convey the humbleness she tried to muster. “I try.”
And as she bid me farewell, walking away, a thought suddenly pierced through my mind. Or perhaps it had always been there, waiting for a single string to weave itself into my web.
Paris was beautiful.
Well, she’d always been beautiful. But never to me. Or at least, I never found her beauty something to ponder over, because… Well, there were plenty of pretty girls here at Castle Hill.
Not that she is ordinary, only that–
