Page 62 of Cruel King

“Actually, he included Miss Sutton as co-executor five years ago right before you moved to London. Perhaps he was concerned you wouldn’t be able to fulfill your obligation and he wanted someone who lived here to assist you.”

Five years ago? What the fuck?

I spin around to face her and see she knew this before even walking into this room today. It’s written all over her face.

“Five years ago, Miss Sutton wasn’t even living here. She had run off to wherever her aunt lives somewhere in New Hampshire, so why the hell would my father put her as an executor of his will?” I ask no one in particular.

Lucas quietly answers, “I don’t know, Matthias. I don’t think he intended on causing you any stress by doing this, though.”

I glare at her like I’ve never done before in my life and bark, “This is why he called you up here the other day. You knew.”

She doesn’t look away, defiantly staring me down as I seethe with rage. I should have expected my father to do something like this. His final attempt to make me the most miserable fucking person on the planet.

Thanks, Dad.

I don’t need to hear any more of this bullshit since I’m going to be in charge of carrying out his final wishes—or half in charge since I have to do this with her— so I storm out of the room and head down to the living room to pour myself a drink. After the day I’ve had, I deserve it.

Two bourbons later, I’m at least calmer than I was, even though I hate what my father did. Marius finds me out on the patio off the living room enjoying my drink and trying to forget that I have to work with her on doling out all my father’s bequests.

My brother sits down next to me and lights up a cigar. Blowing a huge puff of smoke into the air above him, he smiles and then turns to look at me.

“Exciting time, huh? Leave it to Dad to make one more thing difficult for you.”

At least this brother understands. Our father always seemed to give the two of us challenges he never forced the other three of us to deal with.

“I swear to God he’s looking down and smirking, the son of a bitch,” I say before talking a gulp of bourbon.

“Any idea why he thought you’d need the help of little Ava to handle his will?” Marius asks, shaking his head.

And just like that, my mellow mood disappears.

“I have no fucking idea, but if anyone thinks I’m going to be conferring with her on anything, they’re crazy. She isn’t family, so the old man must have been out of his mind when he decided to include her. She doesn’t know a damn thing about his charitable efforts and who gets what.”

Marius doesn’t say anything for a long while, choosing to thankfully sit there quietly and puff on his cigar. When he does speak again, he sounds as confused as I am about the timing of our father’s decision to include Ava.

“Yeah, but if he was crazy, that was five years ago, according to Lucas. What the hell was going on five years ago that made him want to include Ava in his final affairs?”

I’ve thought about that very question ever since the words came out of his attorney’s mouth that this wasn’t a decision my father made while he was sick but something he chose to do all that time ago right after I decided to accept my fate and go work for King Industries in London. Why would he think including Ava as executor then was something he needed to do?

“I have no idea.”

“Are you curious about who got what? You left before any of the good stuff happened.”

Whatever good stuff Marius is referring to I don’t give a damn about, so I ignore him and keep drinking. Maybe if I get drunk enough, this day will just become a blurry memory I can try to forget.

“Well, we all got what Dad said we would. I got the house in Spain. Theo got the one in France since that was always his favorite. Kellen got the penthouse in London, and Ronan got the place in Rome. That leaves you with this house, the place in Florida, the other house in Italy, and Grandma’s house.”

Great. Maybe I’ll move into the place in Italy. It sounds a hell of a lot better than staying here.

“I was a little surprised to find out he left Eleanor so much, but she’s been good to him and to us for so long she deserved it.”

I know he’s holding off telling me about what Ava and her father got like it’s some kind of suspenseful game we’re playing, but I truly don’t care. As long as I have enough to live on, who cares what everyone else was left?

Finally, he blows a big ring of smoke into the air and turns to face me. “Mr. Sutton, Ava, and Andrew were left enough money to set them up for the rest of their lives. Dad also made sure they never have to move from that house, as long as they want to live there.”

Fucking fabulous.

“Good for them,” I say, using every ounce of strength I possess to sound like I don’t care.