“You know you’re welcome in my home,” she said through a clenched jaw, ignoring my accusation and solidifying my gut feeling.
I opened the door wider and stepped inside. She waved her pointy finger in the direction of the library. I strode through the open door— no surprise it was much the same from the last time I was here. Elaborately framed pictures cluttered the dark wood bookcases. Different was I only spotted two of Kimi. Two, of her only daughter. But then again, what purpose did Kimi serve other than a reminder of her failings as a mother?
“You mean Chase’s home, right?” My voice was steady and calm.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m a stickler for the details, can’t help it. It’s in my nature.” I rested a hand on the fireplace mantel and turned around to meet her beady stare.
“Asher Craig, you better get to your point and quickly. I’ve had a very long day and I’m exhausted. I have no time for your games. Your mother would be appalled at your manners right now.”
“First, don’t mention my mother, and second, how long?”
Constance’s already frozen face cracked with my question. Fitting for the ice queen.
“I have no idea what you’re speaking of?”
“Simple question, Constance. Very simple, actually. How. Fucking. Long?” Her eyes bulged with the intensity and condescension of my tone. “This…” I swatted the air in front of her face. “This bewilderment is very unbecoming, Con. I’ve already caught you in two lies today, you going to go for three? Or are you gonna start talking?”
“Your behavior is atrocious.” She flipped her perfectly manicured fingers up, turned her back on me, and tugged at the partially closed drape blocking the floor to ceiling window. “Distressed or not, your language and tone are beyond offensive. A woman of my stature doesn’t deserve to be spoken to in this manner.”
“Stature? What stature? What exactly have you achieved? You don’t have any more prestige than the homeless guy on a corner begging for his next meal. Chances are, he’s most likely had shit luck, while you, if we’re being honest,” her glare bounced off my anger and I smirked, “you’re no better than your bastard husband who’s already rotting in hell.” She blinked and her face flushed with something unreadable. I demanded again, “How long, Constance?”
“Asher, you have completely overstepped your bounds. Your complete disrespect for my deceased husband is abominable. You need to leave, now. Or I’m calling the police.” She stalked toward the phone sitting on the huge mahogany desk.
“Go ahead. I’m sure New York’s finest would be interested in hearing just how aware you were of your dearly deceased husband’s affinity for the underage.” She didn’t blink, didn’t flinch, didn’t react. At all. Son of a bitch. If I wasn’t sure before, I was now. “In fact, why don’t we call Chase first? How do you think that will end?” She pulled her hand back and dropped her arm. Good choice. She was about to learn that life as she knew it, courtesy of her estranged son, was over. Done.
“I’m Chase’s mother. I’m all he has, the only family he has left. We’ve had our differences over the years, but he would never turn against me or believe whatever fabrications you’ve concocted.”
“Like hell he wouldn’t. You obviously don’t know your son at all. Lili is his life, his family. And turns out he has a brother, but you already knew that, didn’t you? You … you are nothing to him,” I hissed, feeling my rage pulse with each beat of my heart.
“That boy is a bastard. Chase will never accept him.”
“How do you fucking sleep at night?” My vexing tone, even unfamiliar to me, echoed off the walls of the mausoleum. Constance’s jaw dropped open, but I wasn’t done. “For the first time in twenty years, I’m relieved Kim’s not here to witness how grotesque you are. How long have you known that your husband raped her best friend, in your own house no less?”
“Please-” She threw her head back and rolled her eyes. “Is that the story the singing slut is telling?”
“She was intoxicated and seventeen!” I roared.
“A seventeen-year-old whore,” she bit back. “A victim, I think not.”
“How long did you know your husband was fucking underage eye candy?”
I knew she knew about Talia when she slipped about California. Her callous demeanor sold her out. I could almost guarantee she played the betrayed widow card when the barely legal ones started crawling out of the woodwork after Jack bit it. There was no way Talia was the only teenager that pig took advantage of.
“How many times, Constance? How many times did you catch your husband screwing a teenager? Too many to count, huh? And what did you do? Absolutely nothing. You stood by his side and let him get away with it. God forbid you jeopardized losing your clout, your fortune—god forbid anyone found out about his dirty little secret and keep you from your next black tie affair.”
“Don’t you stand there and judge me. You know nothing about my life, my marriage, what I’ve been through!”
“What you’ve been through? Do tell, Constance, what exactly have you been through? You know, don’t answer that. I’m not interested in your warped version of history. I’ll lay it out for you. You threw your only daughter to the wolves and let her rot until she died to keep your tennis membership, all the while keeping your husband’s perverse secrets. Stop lying for once in your goddamn life. How long did you know Talia Prince was living in California, struggling as a single mother because your fucking pig couldn’t keep it in his pants? How. Long?”
“Don’t you mean Pryce?” Constance crossed her Chanel-clad arms.
The thought of hitting a woman had never, ever crossed my mind. Ever. Until now.
Balance, cock, torque, strike.
I pulled the folded papers from my back pocket and slammed them down. “It doesn’t matter how long. Take a good look around.” My left arm braced my two hundred pounds of rage against the desk, while my right gestured toward the room. “Hope you’ve enjoyed it. Hope it was all worth it. You have thirty days to get out.”
“What is this?” She eyed the contract with disbelief. “You cannot sell my apartment.”
“Last time I checked, Chase’s name was on the deed, I should know. I handled the transfer when he bailed your ass out of foreclosure. And that’s his signature on the bottom of the sale contract.”
“My son would never evict me from my home!”
“Your son hates you more than I do. And your monthly little allowance, done.”
Her beady eyes bulged from her sockets. “That is ludicrous, how am I going to live? I’m calling my son.”
I tossed my cell on the desk. “Go ahead, call him. Better chance he’ll answer my call than yours.” She knew this was true.
“You don’t have the power to do this.”
“Beg to differ. I have the power to do a whole lot worse. Your son’s not feeling as gentlemanly as I am. He couldn’t care less if you wind up in a shelter resembling the shit hole you sent Kim to. I’m sure you’re unfamiliar with the concept of security, first and last month. I might be willing to arrange your rent as long as you’re far enough away.”
“All this for that gold digging tramp. Seriously, Asher!”
“Talia never asked for or wanted a dime of your dirty money. She worked hard and provided for her son. She is pure class. Unlike you.” I nailed my index finger into the mahogany and bent over to eye level. Through gritted teeth, I made sure Constance heard me, loud and clear. “You ever disrespect my woman or her son again, I will ruin you. Shelter life will look like a luxury. Do you understand me?” It was not a threat. It was the truth. And from the change in her expression, Constance knew it.