I’m alone in the back seat of the black sedan that takes me to dinner at my father’s house.
I look up at the grey stone mansion and grimace, not looking forward to this. I know that there should probably be some curiosity in me, some desire to know more about my family and my heritage. But honestly? Lorenzo Alden doesn’t feel anything like my father. That, to me, will always be David.
Kent sent two guards with me and instructed them to stay by me at all times. For protection, presumably, but also – I think – to be Kent’s eyes and ears at the meeting. Alden is his ally, but I think even the term “ally” in this underworld has some tenuous distrust built into it.
I had begged David to come with me but Kent denied that too. Alden, apparently, wanted me all to himself. Great. I was alrea
