Claiming The Heiress

Bastards Always Know

Alejandro

One day. I have been in the presence of that woman for less than twenty-four hours and I am already on edge. Everything about her is snarl and bite, and scratch, like a damn wild cat that could never be tamed. Or be reasoned with. I hate how high she keeps her head at all times and I hate the negligent way she’s looking at everything and everyone, like she owns us, like she knows something we don’t, something written in that ancient barbaric language of hers that nobody else has access to. I guess that’s one of the reasons I told everyone to ignore her when they want earlier today. I was pissed and feeling petty, which is a new low, even for me. I should feel guilty, but I definitely don’t. The ice princess deserves to be put in place.

“And you don’t see anything wrong with that?” Juan asks after I told him exactly that when he asked why I did it.

He’s giving me the side-eye now, silently judging me as we stand on the porch of his small wooden house, our view - the violet dusk falling over the vast corn fields of the Montener ranch. The air has chilled down significantly and for some reason a part of my brain goes back to the mansion and to Katerina who seemed so damn exhausted earlier because of the heat. A part of me, for whatever reasons, hopes she feels better now with the in-house conditioning and I hate it because what the hell do I care whether she’s okay or not?

I don’t bother to reply to Juan’s question as I let my thoughts wander around the fields, trying to keep things on the light side. The cigar in my hands and the big cup of dark coffee help a lot. At least Katerina is now here and for what is good, that means one win in my corner. Now I have to figure out how to simultaneously secure our businesses positions and get rid of her without driving everything back in the gutter.

“Don’t get this the wrong way, boss, but this is a really s*hitty reason to act like that towards someone,” Juan continues leisurely as he takes another sip from his beer. He stretches into his straw chair and lets out a lazy sigh.

I give him an unimpressed look as I take a sip from my own tea. “The fact that she’s a pain in my a*ss is not a reason enough?” I ask and I hate to admit it even to myself, but I am sulking. Juan is my friend, the closest thing I will ever have to a best friend in this life, and he’s taking the enemy’s side already. Good to know where everyone’s loyalties lay I guess.

Juan just laughs at that, his eyes locked into the distance as he sighs deeply, distractedly. “I mean, it is a reason,” he says. “Just don’t do what you always do and judge her before you even get to know her. She seemed nice actually. Angry, but that’s reasonable, especially since there’s no doubt you did something to make her angry. What did you do?”

“Nothing,” I shrug. “I suppose she didn’t like me being plain old me. Who knows what type of men she’s used to back in her country. Some I*diots who go eat from the palm of her hand just because she’s pretty.”

Juan leaves his beer on the table and turns to fully face me. “So you think she’s pretty?” He asks with amused excitement.

“I mean, I’m not blind,” I reply reluctantly. “She’s one of the prettiest women this place has ever seen.” Which is the understatement of the year. That woman, she’s not just pretty. She’s gorgeous. If she were anyone else, I’d be drooling over her already. But she is Pedro’s daughter, who for whatever reason refused to even acknowledge her own father for years only to come back the moment money was involved. And, judging by the expensive cut of her clothes, there’s no secret she’s been in luxury, probably with Pedro’s money, even though I couldn’t find any trace of accounts on her name, or ones in Pedro’s which were unaccounted for.

Next to me, Juan chuckles. “If you say so,” he says with that easy tone of his and it all actually means he’s not buying even a fragment of what I actually said.

We sit in comfortable silence for the next few hours, until he’s properly wasted on beer and then tequila and I am confident everyone back at the mansion is sound asleep so I won’t have to deal with anymore drama for today.

The full moon above my head is the only thing that lights my way, but at this point I can get back home even in complete darkness. Even when it doesn’t feel like a home anymore with those strangers inside. Tomorrow that woman is going to take over everything I’ve worked for so long and it is me who invited her here. It should be funny if it wasn’t so damn messed up.

When I finally reach the mansion, breathing in the rich scent of the jasmine bushes my father was so fond of, I notice that there is still some light in his window. My heart skips a beat at the irrational thought that he’s home, but then I am reminded that no, he’s gone and it’s his biological daughter who’s occupying his room, the masters bedroom, because she’ll be the master of this place very soon.

I have to squint, but I notice her on the balcony, the soft wind blowing her long blonde hair, and she’s staring at the clear night sky. She’s wearing some soft night gown, her perfectly defined silhouette a dark shadow against the bright light from the windows.

The longer I stare at her, the more tense I get. I don’t even realise I’ve stopped in my tracks and now I am just watching her from the shadows like some god damn creep. Like old Jose from the San Luis who was peeping into people’s windows and getting off on women undressing, until someone caught him and beat the naughty ideas right out of him.

Angry at myself, I hurry to the house and not even bothering to turn the lights in the main hall on, I get to my own rooms, slamming the door behind me.

I try like hell, but I can’t fall asleep. At some point, maybe around five in the morning, I finally give in and get to the stables. Me and good old Pegasus have a nice two-hour long walk around the lands, my tired mind restless as I scout the premises, making sure everything is in place, that nothing and no one have tried to stir things up again. I was restless before the fire a few nights ago, but now I am practically reeling, my mind not letting me relax for even a moment. The Sandovals are still out there, still lurking in the shadows like damn snakes, waiting to strike again and they will sooner than later.

When I finally get back home around seven a.m. I don’t expect to find Katerina in the dining room, ready for breakfast. Yesterday me and Maria informed her about how and when meals are served around here and she seemed more than unbothered. Yet, here she is, fresh and ready to chew my balls out. She’s sitting at the head of the table, a self-satisfied smirk on her lips as she sips from her coffee, which, as I circle around her to take my seat, I notice is just plain black, just the way I drink it. Probably it’s filled to the brim with sugar.

Katerina gives me a polite smile and a curt nod as I take the seat at her right, my usual spot and grab a napkin.

“Good morning,” she says in English, her tone uncharacteristically polite.

I don’t know why I am getting pissed again, the woman hasn’t said anything wrong. And honestly, if I want this to work, I have to make an effort, even the smallest one, yet, I can’t bring myself to it.

“Good morning,” I murmur at some point as I grab the corn bread and start smashing whatever I find on top of it, not caring at the slightest.

Katerina’s smile grows even wider, even though her eyes remain intensely focused on me. I’m not even looking at her, yet I can feel it glued like tar to me. The need to look up and just let her drown me in those bright blues is like something I’ve never felt before, but I clench my jaw and force myself to hold my guard up.

“You seem like a charm in the morning,” Katerina comments with a light tone.

I don’t reply to that. I am not a man of many words and definitely not one who cares about small talk, or whatever this is that she wants to start right now.

Katerina doesn’t say anything after that, getting busy to slam some butter and jam on her toast. And yeah, I did notice she has only two toasts in her plate and that stupid sugarless strawberry jam Dolores makes, which is so damn perfect in both taste and scent, and suddenly I hate everything about it, even though it’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.

Finally, after too damn long, Katerina leaves the butter knife on the small porcelain plate next to her, and lets out a sight, and takes a bite of her crunchy toast and damn her, but I can’t hide my curiosity when I look up to see her reaction. And damn her, but her expression is one of oblivion, her eyes slightly closed as she’s yet but moaning with pleasure and for a moment my stupid brain wonders how’d she sound during s*ex. Probably better, hotter.

The moment I notice the small drop of the sticky jam at the corner of her lips, I force my eyes to look away, because why the hell does my body react to her in this weird manner? I don’t even know that woman for god’s sake, not to mention I am not someone who can’t control himself. It’s probably the lack of sleep, or the fact that I haven’t been with anyone long before my dad passed away. I’ve been too busy with the failed business deals after the weak harvest last year to even consider the idea of it, it’s not for lack of options for sure.

Katerina licks the jam from her lips and I see it all with my peripheral. The woman doesn’t seem to care one bit that I pretend to ignore her as she devours her two slices of toast like someone being served with some heavenly manna or whatever.

“God, I needed that,” she says when she’s done.

I just shrug as I devour my food, which is actually kind of disgusting with the beans and jam I slammed on top without even realising what I was doing.

“Now,” Katerina says after another moment of silence, drawing my attention back to her.

Her eyes are big and honest and she looks like she means business. I am suddenly too aware of her white summer dress with its thin straps exposing perfectly shape shoulders and arms, somehow managing to hide her cleavage, which is still away from modest. Damn this woman, is it even legal for someone to look this damn perfect so early in the morning?

“I’d like to offer a fresh start once more,” she continues now that she’s sure she has my full undivided attention. “It’s no excuse but the truth is that yesterday I was jet lagged and nervous and definitely not my true self, so I apologise if I acted a bit off. I’d like you to know I am not here to be competition to you, Mr. Montener.”

I leave my food and lean into my chair, my eyes narrowed at her with expectation. For a moment she looses her train of thought, she just stares me back, like I caught her off guard, interrupting somehow her perfectly prepared speech.

“So why are you here, señorita?” I ask, trying as hell to keep the venom out of my tone. Deep down I realise she’s right, we don’t need to fight like dogs for a piece of bone.

Her cheeks flush and damn it, but red is a pretty good color on her. Her lips are pale pink now, discreet and perfectly shaped, but I wonder how they’d look crimson red? They’d be a perfect match for those dark blonde curls and those deep blue eyes. A porcelain doll. The ice princess.

“For my father,” Katerina finally replies, looking away from me. “See, I had no contact with him for years and one day you called me, informing me he cared enough to leave me a fortune. I want to get to know him better. Find out the reason why he left me in the first place.”

A sardonic smile lands on my lips. “Yeah, tell that yourself, señorita. People do fly across oceans to get to know their estranged fathers. Definitely not for the money, no?”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” she shrugs, seemingly unbothered by my harsh words. “Just like how I don’t understand why he abandoned me and my mother and came here to change his name and adopt you. It makes no sense… anyway, I just want you to know that I honestly don’t want to be enemies or whatever dramatic idea you have in your head. And if I am going to get involved into this entire business, I’d like to check the accounting books first, to make sure I completely understand how things are around here.”

I am frozen in my place, my eyes wide in surprise and confusion, and anger. She’s right, of course she is. She’s saying all the right things, all the reasonable questions. In her place I’d like to know too. But it’s that feeling again, that anger and hurt, and helplessness that make me snap. There’s a stranger in my house and she’s taking over everything that was supposed to be mine.

As I raise to my feet, knocking the chair down as I do it, there is only one thought in my head. It’s not fair. That’s all it comes down to. It’s not f*ucking fair. Right now I don’t care about my revenge, I don’t care about the money or the lands, I don’t even care about my late mother. All I care is that this is my life’s work that this woman came to steal away from me and it’s not damn fair

“Listen, señorita,” I tell her with a dangerously low, menacing voice. I am leaning over her, my hands on the both handles of her chairs making her to retreat to the back of her seat, her eyes wide with confusion and fear, both of which bring me dark satisfaction. “You are not here to do business. You are here only because if you are not, everything goes to the state. We are not going to be friendly. We are not going to be a team. Those money are still not yours, so act accordingly. Do you know how to run an estate like this? Yeah, I thought so. So, forget about your little quest and let me handle things as I’ve always done. All you have to do is smile politely and sign when asked to.”

Katerina manages to gather her wits quickly, because the next thing I know she stands taller in her chair, her body leaning into me, energy matching my own. Her eyes are now frosted pools and her words toxic venom as she smiles at me. She f*ucking smiles.

“You must be crazier than I thought if you believe I will let you do whatever the hell you want where my name is involved.” She raises to her feet, her chest brushing mine in the process, and she seems like she doesn’t even care about it. “And one thing to know about me, Mr. Montener, is that I keep my name clean no matter what. Unlike your adoptive father I don’t plan to ever change it.”

After that she just storms off, leaving me to wonder speechless what the hell she meant by Pedro changing his name.