Page 19 of Claimed By my Father's Enemies
"Objection." He mocks.
"Overruled."
"I was appreciating the bar decor," Adrian says, pouring more wine into Carter's glass without being asked. "Which, I will point out, is excellent."
I actually do look around the restaurant when he says that. Every table occupied. The floor staff moving efficiently. Low amber light bouncing off glassware, the warm aroma of Mediterranean food in the air, the quiet hum of a full dining room on a Thursday night.
Terra has been open for eight months. We consistently run at capacity on most nights, having to refuse more reservations.
The MH Group is doing well. Better than well.
I let myself have that for a second.
I turn back to the table.
"Weren't you seeing that model?" Carter says, looking at Adrian over the rim of his glass. "The Spanish one. What was her name. Nina? Mia?"
"Alicia," Adrian says, too casually. He reaches for his water. "That fizzled out."
"Since when?" Carter asks.
"A while." He shrugs. Drinks his water.
I look at my friend. There's a thing about Adrian that I don't say out loud because he would hate it. He hasn’t always been like this. Wanting to live life at full speed. Experience everything it has to give before it’s too late.
Everything's a little louder, a little more, a little faster than it strictly needs to be.
I don’t say anything about it because I’m just glad that he is here with us and able to enjoy life, when the fact is, he could not be.
I sip on the remains of my whisky and let the burn help to settle me.
Carter’s enthusiasm aside, I have achieved my goal. Sienna is now in my orbit. And that’s fundamental to achieving my goal.
I lean back in the leather booth and let the conversation go on without me for a minute.
My phone buzzes in my coat pocket. And when I pull it out to check who it is, it says ID unknown.
"Hello?" On the other side a pause. Long enough that I almost hung up..
Then a woman's voice. Careful. Like she's already rehearsed the first sentence and is still not sure she's going to get it out. "William?"
"Yes." I confirm. The head ache now in full force.
She exhales. "Okay. First I want to tell you that Charlie, humm, Charlotte is okay. The doctors said she's going to be okay. I need you to understand that first."
I feel something heavy hit my chest, making it harder to breathe. "What?"
"Fuck—” the voice mumbles. Takes a deep breath in and continues. “Charlotte is at Saint Agnes Hospital. She's in surgery now, but the doctors said—"
"Wait." I demand. I need whatever this is to stop.
"She’ll be okay—" the woman keeps talking, but I’m finding it hard to follow. Charlotte. Hospital. Words that I refuse to listen to.
Around me the restaurant sound dims. I can see Adrian and Carter, leaning in, sensing that something is wrong.
"Wait. Stop. What?" I need to think. I need to make this make sense.
"She was shot." I can hear the effort to keep a controlled voice.
