Page 90 of Tattered (Lark Cove 1)

Thea giggled. “You don’t have any gray hair.”

“But someday I will, and it’s going to be her fault.”

We’d all hoped that Sofia would find an interest in one of the Kendrick businesses. But so far, she’d yet to make much of herself but a brat. And my parents did her no favors by spoiling her rotten.

“Thanks.” Thea snuggled closer. “It’s nice to hear about them all so I’m prepared for when we meet.”

“You have nothing to worry about.”

It was a half-truth. Aubrey would embrace Thea and Charlie immediately. My parents would likely be hesitant but polite. They’d come around when they realized Thea wasn’t after the family fortune.

Sofia was the risk. Either she’d want to play dress-up with Charlie, or she’d throw a tantrum to make sure she stayed the center of attention.

I didn’t know how she’d play this, but one thing was for certain. If she made this a bad experience for Thea, I’d take her financial freedom away with a snap of my fingers. Because while Dad and Aubrey were in control of the working capital, I had the power over the legacy money.

I had the power over Sofia’s trust fund.

Dad was making the announcement next week, so with the exception of Mom and Granny, none of the family knew that, as of a week ago, I was in charge of trust fund withdrawals for the Kendrick lineage.

We had a fairly simple trust fund setup considering the size of our fortune. If you were a direct descendant of my great-great-grandfather, you were entitled to a percentage of his legacy. Once you turned thirty, the money was yours to do with as you pleased.

But until then, withdrawals required approval from Dad. Now me. It was a safeguard to ensure the younger adults didn’t take hundreds of thousands of dollars to spend on hookers and blow.

After all, that would tarnish the family image.

I’d planned to follow Dad’s precedents, approving all withdrawals unless there was cause for alarm. I wanted to stay out of each individual’s financial business. But if Sofia hurt Thea or Charlie in any way, I’d make an exception.

She might be in our family, but she’d learn the hard way not to mess with mine.

“I wish you didn’t have to go to work.”

Nice, Thea. That sounded just as clingy and pathetic out loud as it had in my head.

I also didn’t give a shit.

What I really wanted to do today was curl up with Logan on a couch, watch movies and let Charlie have a quiet day with her parents. One thing I’d learned over the past four days was that New York City was just like I’d remembered: loud, chaotic and expensive.

Logan’s apartment was a haven and had quickly become my favorite place in New York.

Everything else was for the pigeons.

“Sorry, baby.” Logan’s arms pulled me closer, his front to my back. “I wish I didn’t have to go either and we could just spend the day in bed. But I can’t.”

“I know,” I muttered, closing my eyes to draw out these last few moments together in his bed.

Logan’s bed was massive, nearly as large as my entire

room at the cottage. It sat opposite a wall of windows that overlooked the city. It was still dark outside—I’d learned this week that Logan went to work before dawn—but the sun’s glow was beginning to light the sky and slowly filter into his bedroom.

Just like the rest of his penthouse, this room was magnificent. His thick gray quilt was heavy, and with his warm body pressed against mine, I was in a cocoon of luxury.

“I love your bed.”

“I love you,” he whispered into my hair. My eyes popped open just as he added three more words. “In my bed.”

I relaxed, hoping he hadn’t felt me flinch.

But he had.