Her revengeful Bastard

Not as easy as he thought

*Anna*

Two hours later, I find myself being escorted into a lawyer’s office, a detour on my way to the designer that I decided at the last minute before leaving the residence is necessary.

“Miss Anna”. The man says with a nod.

“Mr. Beck”. I say with a soft smile as the man gets up from his leather chair behind his desk. I don’t think I have ever seen anyone with kinder eyes. After my father’s passing, he handled his business affairs, saw his estate settle and read his will.

Although only seven at the time, I still remember the gentleness with which he promised me that everything would turn out well in the end. He had given me a rag doll and told me to squeeze it tight whenever grief overtook me. All these years later, I still have moments when I hug the frayed doll in my arms.

“Please, have a seat”. He says. “Shall I send for tea ?”

“No, thank you. I won’t be here for long”.

He waits until I am settled in the plush chair before taking his seat and clasping his hands on the oak desk. “How might I be of service ?”

“I was wondering if you know a man who goes by the name of Kai Tempest”. I enquire.

He studies me for a moment, and I fight not to squirm. The spectacles that rest on the bridge of his slender nose enlarge his blue eyes and make it seem that he could peer directly into someone’s soul. “I am familiar with him”. He finally says very quietly and flatly, giving nothing away regarding what his opinion of the man might be.

“He struck me as the sort of man who … if he found himself in need of a lawyer … would come to you, as he would no doubt be willing to pay for the best Blackstone city has to offer”. I say.

“You flatter me”. He gives me a shy smile.

I know he dearly wants to ask how I have become acquainted with Kai Tempest, but if Mr. Beck is known for anything at all, it is for being discreet and respecting others’ privacy. “Would he happen to be a client of yours ?”

He tilts his head slightly. “I am not at liberty to disclose who my clients are”.

The discreteness that brings me to him is an obstacle to me gaining what I want. “I don’t suppose you would happen to know where his office or home is located”.

Clearing his throat, he leans back. “If he were a client, it would be inappropriate for me to share any information I have regarding him. Just as I would not share any particulars regarding you”.

“If I were to leave a box on the corner of your desk, do you think it might magically make its way to him ?” I glance at the desk.

He gives a small nod. “If I don’t know where he is, I am certain I could find someone who does”.

“Then I shall leave it in your care”. I remove the small leather box from my bag and carefully set it on the edge of his desk.

“Is there a message that should accompany it ?” He asks, not looking the least surprised.

“No, I think the message will be quite clear when he receives it”. I stand up. Mr. Beck shoves himself to his feet. “I appreciate you not asking questions”.

He smiles a small knowing smile. “My role in life is to be of service … not to judge”.

“I knew I could count on your discretion. Thank you, Mr. Beck. I hope you have a good day”. I return the smile before walking for the door.

“Miss Anna, every day I am alive is a good day”.

Strolling from the office, I wonder if Kai Tempest is having a good day, as well.

*Kai*

She has bloody well returned my gift. Mr. Beck arrived at my office without an appointment and delivered it himself, along with an uncaritaristic judgement in his gaze: Lady Anna is not to be bothered by the likes of Kai Tempest.

I thought Kyle would be a challenge, but I have never expected it of her. When I set my sights on a woman, I generally enjoy her before the night is done. I knew a high ranked she-wolf would take a bit more work and enticing. I thought dangling trinkets before her, especially when they are procured in the middle of the night from a jeweler who owes me, was the key.

I was clearly wrong.

Standing at the office window on the top floor of my hotel, gazing out on the small patch of Blackstone City that belongs to me, I watch as the workers cart lumber, hammer planks into place, stack bricks, attach roofs, insert glass. The shops will bring more business to the area, more customers to my hotel. The lodgings I plan to build beyond will bring in rents from those who work in the shops, those I will hire to keep the area clean, those who would see to the various tasks that most people don’t even consider.

In my youth, I worked as a dustbin boy and then a dustman, selling the soot and dirt I collected to brickmakers, until I was able to afford my own brick and mortar business. Blackstone City was expanding quickly. There was good money to be had in bricks. Once I had the bricks, I began building. My life has been one small step leading to another, until I was able to permanently wash off the dust. But it’s not enough.

I want to be acknowledged as the better son, to prove my worth is more than that of the legitimate spawn. I want my father to know he has vastly misjudged his bastard’s potential, to regret that he has ever sentenced him to death.